#it just showed me how much i missed my desktop and how much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wyuovvia · 1 month

Text

— BRAT TAMING 101!

Kento Nanami x Male Y/N || Content Warnings: minor writing smut, nsfw, idea/request from my old account (@ballsinyojaws2000), anal, blowjob, nudes, sending nudes while at work, semi-semi-public(??), rough, creampie, cum swallowing, throatfucking, married y/n + kento, subbot y/n & domtop kento, rest of writing under cut || Word Count: 2,212 || Followers When Posted: 95 ||Author's Note: told you guys a fic would be posted tonight || property of ©wyuovvia . all rights reserved . do not plagiarize , repost , or translate any of my work without my permission .

ALBUM ENTRY!: Being home alone without your husband is boring, so why not spice things up by sending him nudes while he's at work? Who knows what'll happen! You'll only find out if you try it!

Kento is busy at work, stuck doing what seems like an endless amount of paperwork because his co-workers couldn’t finish it. It was currently 11:56 PM. He better be getting paid more for this. Kento is on the verge of just leaving the building right here, right now, but of course, he can’t do that because then he would probably fired. The job has adequate pay anyway. It’s enough for him to get good money if he works enough. When Kento is about to start yet another portion of work he had, his phone buzzes on the desktop near him.

He checks his phone, and it was [Y/N]. But out of all things, he didn't expect [Y/N] to send him nudes while he was working at all. In the picture, [Y/N] was laid out on the bed with a dildo in his ass and a vibrator pressed against his cock. The message that [Y/N] sent after that was "Miss you Kento <3"

Kento's heart skipped a beat as he gazed at the explicit image of [Y/N] lying seductively on the bed, the dildo firmly planted inside him and the vibrator teasingly touching his erect member. A mix of shock and excitement coursed through him. Without thinking twice, he quickly locked his office door, pulled his phone closer, and replied to the message, "You're such a bad boy, playing with yourself while I'm stuck here." He closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself in the dildo’s place, feeling the sensations of [Y/N] squeezing around him and begging him for more.

After a few seconds, Kento continued, "But you know what they say - bad boys deserve even better punishment. Once I get home, I'm going to spank that cute little ass of yours until it turns bright red. And then, I'll slide into you nice and slow, reminding you who owns you, you horny brat." With each word, his grip tightened around his phone, and his jaw clenched as thoughts of dominating [Y/N] consumed his mind.

A few seconds later, [Y/N] sends a picture of his cock dripping cum. The message [Y/N] sends after says "you should come home soon" Kento nearly dropped his phone as he saw the fresh wave of explicit content from [Y/N]. His husband's cock glistening with cum against the soft sheets, the messy aftermath of self-indulgence. His pulse quickened, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure amidst the carnal images. Taking a deep breath, he texted back, "You naughty little thing, already cumming without me? Fine, I'll see how much more you can handle when I get home. You'd better clean up before I arrive, or I might show you just how much worse it could get."

With a final, smug grin, Kento shot one last message before shoving his phone back into his pocket. "And don't think you're off the hook yet. I'm bringing a surprise for you tonight - something to remind you of our little arrangement. Get ready to feel every inch of it, my dear husband.", he whispered to himself, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. He couldn't wait any longer; he grabbed his jacket and headed towards their apartment, eager to claim his prize.

As he walks to his car and turns on the engine, his cock starts to throb in his pants. He can barely focus fully on the road due to his mind thinking of all the things he's going to do to [Y/N] as punishment. Kento's grip on the steering wheel tightened as his throbbing cock strained against his pants, an unwelcome distraction as he focused on navigating the busy streets back home. The thought of punishing [Y/N] for his impudence was both enticing and arousing, filling him with a primal sense of dominance. He knew [Y/N] was enjoying this game, and so was he. But he couldn't let it affect his driving.

With a deep breath, Kento tried to redirect his thoughts to the road ahead, his mind racing between visions of [Y/N]'s eager body and the need to safely transport himself to their apartment. Though his heart pounded in anticipation, he managed to keep his focus and eventually pulled into the parking lot of their building. As he exited the car, he took one last deep breath and reminded himself that he was the one in control. Once inside, he would show [Y/N] just who wore the pants in their marriage, and he couldn't wait to sink into his husband's tight warmth.

Kento quickly made his way up to their room as fast as he could. He pulls out his keys, unlocks the door, and immediately rushes to the bedroom where he finds [Y/N] teasing his cock with the vibrator still, and the dildo that was in him before was next to him on the bed. In between [Y/N]'s legs, there was still cum on his cock and the bedsheets below. [Y/N] only had one of Kento's shirts on and he looks up when Kento enters the room as he blushes and smirks at him.

Kento's blood ran hot as he caught sight of [Y/N], still teasing himself with the vibrator, the dildo lying beside him on the bed. His eyes immediately locked onto the residue of his husband's earlier climax, a testament to his naughty behavior. His heart raced, and his cock twitched at the thought of taking [Y/N] right then and there.

Stepping into the room, Kento's eyes never left [Y/N]'S smirking face. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, otherwise, you'd be punished already," he hissed, his voice thick with desire. "Get up, and get the rest of your clothes off. We have a lot to cover tonight."

As he spoke, Kento's fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning it and shrugging it off his shoulders. He made quick work of his tie and unzipped his pants, revealing his hardened member. "I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget, my naughty husband."

[Y/N] takes Kento's shirt off of himself and after that, Kento lays on the bed and [Y/N] lays across him with his head laying on Kento's lower abdomen. [Y/N]'s bold move caught Kento off guard, but he found himself liking the initiative his husband had shown. With a smirk, he patted the spot on his abdomen, beckoning [Y/N] to settle in comfortably. As [Y/N] lay across him, Kento felt a surge of power, his gaze lingering on the curve of his husband's ass. Kento grabs one of the pillows and places it so [Y/N] laying on it, and it's under [Y/N]'s waist.

"Spread your legs, boy," Kento commanded, his voice stern as he adjusted the pillow beneath [Y/N]. "You're going to get exactly what you deserve, so be ready." As his husband complied, he couldn't help but admire the view before him. He reached for one of [Y/N]'s plump cheeks, giving it a sharp smack. "Keep your legs open, or I'll make sure your ass is red by the time I'm done with you."

With that, Kento's eyes locked onto [Y/N]'s eager mouth as it engulfed his cock. He groaned, his hand tightening on the sheet as [Y/N]'s skilled tongue and lips worked their way down Kento's cock.

Nanami puts his hand on the back of [Y/N]'s head and slowly moves him up and down his cock. As Nanami starts to make [Y/N] go lower onto his cock, [Y/N] gags a bit and moans around his dick each time his head moves back down. While Nanami's one hand moves [Y/N]'s head up and down, the other is reaching over and spanking [Y/N]'s ass.

As [Y/N]'s gagging moans echoed in the room, Nanami couldn't help but smile. The sight of his husband's face contorted around his cock, the feeling of [Y/N]'s throat muscles pulsating around him - it was all too much. He leaned back, his hand tightening on the back of [Y/N]'s head as he guided him to the tip, letting him catch his breath before plunging back down.

The spankings continued, his palm meeting [Y/N]'s ass with a satisfying slap. He felt the sting, the heat, the mixture of pain and pleasure that only he could provide. "That's right, take it all, you little brat. I'll decide when you can breathe." Nanami's voice was firm, his control over this situation absolute.

[Y/N]'s moans grew louder, his body bucking with each spank, his cheeks flushing a deep red. Nanami continued to thrust into [Y/N]'s mouth, the sensation of his husband's warm throat surrounding him almost too much to bear. He was close, his release building with each thrust; but he wasn't done yet.

[Y/N]'s moans washed over Nanami like a tidal wave, each one pushing him closer to the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he felt his orgasm approaching. "That's it, my boy, make me cum. Make me spill my seed down your throat," he growled, his grip on [Y/N]'s hair tightening.

His orgasm hit him like a freight train, his hips bucking involuntarily as he filled [Y/N]'s mouth with his seed. [Y/N] gags as his eyes widen and he tries to swallow the cum, but some of it drips down his chin. He gazed down at his husband, his chest heaving, his breaths ragged. "That's for teasing yourself without me," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Once he had caught his breath, Nanami pulled out of [Y/N]'s mouth, his cock still dripping with cum. He leaned down, brushing his lips against [Y/N]'s ear. "Now, it's your turn," he murmured, his voice laced with promise and desire. Nanami's fingers traced the curve of [Y/N]'s ass, lingering on the red marks he'd left behind. "Turn over, and get ready for me."

[Y/N] whimpered and then turned away from Nanami, and then he got into a position where his ass was up, and his head was pressed into the pillows. [Y/N]'s hole was practically clenching around nothing, begging to be stuffed.

Nanami's heart swelled with pride at the sight of [Y/N], eager and ready for what was to come. His husband's neediness was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of dominance. He reached for a bottle of lube on the nightstand, slicking his fingers before slowly sliding one inside [Y/N]'s eager hole.

[Y/N] gasped, his body trembling as Nanami prepared him for what was to come. "You're so ready for me, aren't you?" he purred, his voice thick with desire. With a second finger joining the first, he felt [Y/N]'s muscles clench around him, a testament to his arousal. "I bet you can't wait to feel my cock inside you, can you?"

Nanami gently stretched [Y/N]'s hole, knowing he had to be careful. He didn't want to cause any pain, only pleasure. When he was satisfied with the preparation, he removed his fingers, slicking his cock with more lube. He was already hard again. Lining himself up at [Y/N]'s entrance, he paused, looking into his husband's eyes. "Ready?"

"M-mhm... p-please Kento.. 'need your cock..." Nanami couldn't resist the pleading look in [Y/N]'s eyes. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed into [Y/N]'s tight heat, groaning as his husband's muscles clenched around him. He hesitated, allowing [Y/N] to adjust, then began to thrust, setting a slow, deep rhythm.

Each thrust brought a moan from [Y/N], his hips bucking to meet Nanami's advances. "Fuck, you're tight," he growled, his hands gripping [Y/N]'s hips, guiding their movements. "Even after getting yourself off while I was at work you aren't prepped enough for my cock?~" The feel of [Y/N]'s ass wrapped around his cock, the way [Y/N]'s body responded to his every touch, it was pure ecstasy.

Nanami's grip tightened, his thrusts becoming more forceful as his arousal climbed. "You like this, don't you? Being taken by me, like this?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. Sweat dripped down their intertwined bodies, the scent of sex thick in the air. He leaned down, his lips brushing against [Y/N]'s ear. "Soon, I'm going to fill you up with my cum, my good boy."

"Ah!~ Ngh- Kento!~ Slow- Ah~ Slow downngh!!~" [Y/N] clenched around him as he desperately tried to adjust to the speed and roughness of his thrusts. Nanami couldn't help but laugh at the sight of [Y/N]'s struggles. "Not tonight, my pet. Tonight, you're going to take it however I give it to you." He continued his intense pace, watching as [Y/N]'s body began to adjust, the clenching becoming more rhythmic.

[Y/N]'s moans grew louder, mingling with the slap of their bodies connecting. Nanami felt the familiar build-up, his release nearing. "You're doing good, [Y/N]. Keep taking it." He leaned down, his teeth grazing [Y/N]'s neck as he whispered, "Soon, my dear, you'll be mine completely."

With a final, powerful thrust, Nanami's orgasm tore through him. He groaned, his seed filling [Y/N] as he held onto his husband's hips, not wanting to let go. They stayed that way for a moment, Nanami's breath ragged, his heart pounding. "Are you satisfied now?" he asked, his voice thick with aftershocks. He slowly pulled out, watching as [Y/N]'s hole slowly closed around the absence of his cock and how his semen slowly dripped out of his twitching hole. Maybe [Y/N] would send him more nudes if it always ended like this.

265 notes · View notes

auroragreenvale · 7 months

Text

People Watching - JJ Maybank

They met in class for metaphysical philosophy, he tells his friends I like her ‘cause she’s so much smarter than me

OR How you and JJ met

Summary: A look into different points of JJ and reader's relationship inspired by People Watching by Conan Gray. 3k words

***

A/N: I loveee this song especially the opening verse and I always loved picturing the people that inspired it. The chapters wont follow the order of the lyrics. I hope y'all enjoy :)

***

“Dude look what is this shit?” He smacked the paper before holding it out to Pope. He took hold of it, looking over each class listed in his friend’s schedule for the upcoming year until he found the so-called “shit” JJ was referring to: Philosophy. Pope let out a chuckle the moment he registered the word and looked over at his friend, amused. “Pope, man this isn’t funny they must’ve messed up my schedule and shit! I can’t take this class, man!” Pope could only continue to laugh, catching Kiara’s attention. She grabbed the paper out of Pope’s hand and quickly displayed the same reaction as him.

“Wow JJ I had no idea you were such a scholar! An intellectual if you will?”

“Shut up Kie!” JJ rolled his eyes as his friends’ laughter died down, ready to show a little sympathy.

“Look JJ,” Pope started, “It really isn’t that big a deal. This stuff happens just go talk to the counselor and get it fixed, easy.”

“Yeah alright… gimme that,” JJ snatched back his class schedule before roughly folding it and putting it into his pocket. He’d probably remember to look at it again before the first day. Probably.

***

To JJ, school was the single biggest waste of his time. He sat through stupid classes all day, missing out on prime surfing time. And what’s worse, it’s not like he could smoke a joint in the middle of history, much less chat with any of his friends in English. He was just glad to have guaranteed easy classes that required close to nothing on his end. That and the knowledge that he didn’t have parents riding his case about his education or caring about his future allowed him to ignore the nuisance that was school once he left the building. But being put in philosophy did not work into his plan. Philosophy was for the smart people. Like Pope smart. Maybe even smarter and JJ definitely considered himself a lot less smart than Pope. JJ took the classes that were required of him and absolutely nothing else. The people who took philosophy probably finished half of their requirements in middle school and overloaded on classes with specific topics because they were actually interested in them. He shuddered at the thought of more school as he entered his next class. Seven students sat at the various desks, not even filling half of them. JJ thought maybe the rest of the class was running late but he thought it was weird that everyone there currently sat toward the front of the room. His other classes were always full and people had no issue sitting in the very back row even if the one closest to the teacher had yet to be filled. But JJ was a master at blending in of course and even though he planned to get out of this class by tomorrow, he could still have fun pretending to be one of the smart kids. He slid into the last empty seat in the second row, looking around and observing his temporary classmates. His brow furrowed in confusion when he noticed them all with faces in books or scribbling away in their notebooks. How were they doing work before the bell had even rung? He slid down slightly in his seat letting his head hang down in the direction of his empty desktop, hoping to divert attention away from himself so as not to blow his cover and ruin his little game. His hand came up to the side of his face, blocking it from the others in his row as he waited for the dreaded class to begin.

“Hi!” The sound came from the desk next to him. He lowered his hand and looked over at the girl sitting there. “...I… haven’t seen you before, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh well… I typically take a lotta... math... classes so this is kinda… new for me,” he tested out.

“Oh me too! Maybe we’ll have some more classes together.” You smiled at him warmly.

“Mmm yeah maybe,” he smiled, amused at the possibility, “I’m JJ.”

“Nice to meet you. Glad to have you in class JJ.” Again he smiled, you reading it as politeness when he really was trying to hold back laughter. Finally the bell rang signaling the beginning of class and JJ realized no other students had entered the room. If the first bell took that long to sound, he knew it would take an eternity before the last one would sound, ending his philosophy career and his misery.

***

“You’re kidding me what!? What do you mean there’s no other classes??” JJ yelled, ignoring that he was in the administrative office.

“Please keep it down Mr. Maybank. What I mean is that all the other classes at that time are full so we can’t move you out of your current class.”

“Ughh! … Yall messed this up, you gotta fix it!”

“I’m sorry JJ but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Okay but you don’t understand I can’t spend the whole semester in this class its for like the genius kids! I can’t do that shit!”

“Mr. Maybank please watch your language. And as for these ‘genius kids’ I suggest you talk to one of them about tutoring you.” At that JJ threw his head back and groaned as he exited the office and made his way outside to join his friends for lunch. They immediately noticed his dramatic expression as he approached.

“Whats up J,” Kiara asked slowly.

“This bullshit! They said they can’t take me outta that stupid class!”

“Wait you mean philosophy? You have to stay in it all semester,” Pope asked. JJ nodded.

“And what’s worse they said I should get a fucking tutor! Like I’m gonna go outta my way and do more school when I’m not even at school,” JJ shook his head, “I think I’ll just go ahead and fail.”

“Hate to break it to you man but if you fail it they’ll probably make you retake it over the summer.”

“Pope dude are you serious?” He nodded. “Fuuuck.” Kiara patted his shoulder, looking amused.

“Well uh, guess you’re getting a tutor.”

***

JJ walked into his second day of philosophy and slumped down in the seat next to yours. Blowing out a breath, he reluctantly looked over at you, preparing to ask you the dreaded question. You gave him a small smile.

“So uh… do you like… tutor people ever? For a friend! He’s… he’s looking for a… tutor.” Your smile grew, knowing where this was going.

“Oh yeah I do what does your, uh friend need tutoring in?”

“This class!-- Well not this… class but you know this subject.”

“Mmm okay well I’d be willing to be your friend’s study buddy, help ‘em out.”

“Okay cool cool.... Cool. That's real uh cool of you.” You giggled.

“Cool,” you answered sarcastically. This made JJ laugh softly, dropping his charade.

“Yeah so uh… should we get crackin’ like today I-- I think that would… be good. And do we… me at… the library or…?”

“Um we could or we could just go to my place if that's better?”

“Okay yeah… yeah sure that's good I’ll uh, meet you after school?”

“Sounds good.” He mirrored the smile you gave him before you both turned to face the front of the class where the teacher stood.

***

“JJ come on, the final’s in two weeks you need to get some more work done on your paper so you can start reviewing in time.”

“But dude. This paper is so stupid I do not care about any of these old guys’ theories.”

“Okay but you know them, I know ‘cause I helped you learn them, so pick one and write something about it.” JJ groaned in his usual dramatic fashion making both of you laugh. You shoved him lightly, telling him to write which he eventually began to do. When you had finished up your own essay you turned your attention to what JJ had started writing. You read over the beginnings of his essay a couple of times.

“JJ! This is good. These ideas are really good!”

“Well don’t sound so surprised,” he joked.

“I just mean I figured you had nothing since you didn’t want to write it so bad. But this is good, keep going and we can polish it up.”

“For real?”

“Yeah I’m really proud of you.” It was a simple statement and you quickly turned your attention to work for your other classes. But JJ let his gaze linger on you for a few seconds longer, a small smile on his lips. No one had ever said they were proud of him before. At least not that he could remember and definitely not when it came to smart stuff like this. He felt his heart expand hearing those words and he wondered how it would feel to hear them again. And again. He hoped he might do something else deserving of someone’s pride again. It made him feel taken care of in the way he tries to take care of his friends and it felt good to be on the other side of that kind of affection. He turned his attention back to his work and for the first time in his education, felt some motivation.

“No listen John B she’s like, so smart it's like cool! She might even be smarter than Pope and he’s probably the smartest person I know.” In his modesty, Pope let out a loud laugh, thinking JJ must have pretty low standards for intelligence if he was on the smartest end. “Pope what the hell is funny man?” This made Kiara snicker as well. JJ’s friends were all amused at how serious he seemed to be about this, all seeing what he couldn’t.

“Uh, JJ it sounds like you might have a little crush,” John B said.

“Shit,” JJ said, brushing off the notion. “Fuck,” he said more quietly in realization in disbelief. His friends continued their quiet giggling at his apparent predicament.

“You gonna… you gonna ask her out or what? I mean you’ll only be in class together for another what, two weeks? And I doubt you’ll ever be in one of her classes again so,” Pope laughed.

“Shut up man I could be, I'm doing pretty good.”

“I’m sorry could any of you imagine JJ dating this apparent genius girl,” Kiara laughed at the images it brought to her mind.

“Yeah I don’t know if she’d be down to date like a surfer dude,” John B changed his voice to mock his friend.

“Or she’d be like studying or something and you’re all,” Kiara also took on a ridiculous voice, “‘Hey babe wanna hit,’” she mimicked blowing out smoke and took on a stoner persona that they all knew was incredibly far off from JJ. But they still found it funny.

“You guys are the fucking worst and I’m gonna ask her out and you’re all gona feel like idiots okay,” JJ said holding both of his middle fingers up for all of his still amused friends to see.

“Just invite us to the wedding okay,” Kiara mocked, earning a shove from her friend as she fell out laughing.

***

“Hey I wanna… say, ya know thanks for helping, uh my friend out with this class,” JJ said trying to bring you back to the beginning of the semester with this class. You closed your book figuring it was time for a break. You gave JJ a tired smile that was nonetheless bright. He almost rolled his eyes when he smiled back just as big remembering how his friends noticed his feelings before he did and hating them being right.

“Well he was a pretty… okay study buddy,” you joked back. JJ let out a breathy laugh.

“Just okay?”

“Well you’re pretty easily distracted but you do keep it fun. So better than okay I guess. And you really impressed me this semester. You’re a lot smarter than you think.” When JJ recalls this moment he can only assume he blushed a bright pink at your genuine statement and the look in your eyes. Thinking about it, he still wants to melt in both embarrassment and somehow happiness. He quickly changed the subject.

“Gonna be weird not seein’ each other all the time huh?” He had really gotten used to seeing you everyday, enjoying the time he spent with you even if it was filled doing activities he didn’t so much enjoy.

“Yeah.” You paused. “...No one in my classes is ever as,” you searched for the right word but couldn’t find it, “...fun as you.”

“Well no one in my classes is ever so damn smart like you,” he replied, “But uh, I was wondering did you maybe wanna hang out sometime? Like no studying or anything?”

“Yeah I would, yeah. Let’s do that,” You smiled at him and then opened your textbook again, eyes going down to the words you knew you would no longer be able to focus on.

***

JJ stood in front of the small bathroom mirror in the Chateau fluffing and fixing his hair over and over, indecisive. He wore his least dirty pair of boots and had borrowed one of John B’s less loud button down shirts. He topped it with a jacket. He felt a little weird but he hoped you’d think he looked nice in the clothes that were slightly nicer than what he typically wore to school. He smoothed back his hair one more time and ran his hand through it once. He settled on that. At least it was clean and dry, an improvement from the usual. He drove the Twinkie to your place, a very familiar route by now. When he arrived he paused in the driver's seat. Did he text you he was here or did he go up and knock? Was that what people did to pick up a friend or just dates? You hadn’t said this was a date. And what if one of your family members answered the door? He let out a breath and opened the car door before he could stop himself. He walked up to the door and knocked. He waited almost a moment too long, beginning to contemplate going back to the car and texting you when you opened the door grinning. You were actually really excited to hang out with JJ and get to know him more without homework and studying. You had enjoyed his company over the semester. JJ smiled and felt relief when you appeared and then suddenly felt self conscious. You looked exactly like yourself and he was wearing someone else's clothes. So fucking stupid. He tried to push it out of his mind as you greeted each other and he walked you to the Twinkie. As you both almost arrived at the driver's side of the car, he had the idea to open your door for you. He stopped awkwardly and abruptly, confusing you, as he changed direction to go around the front of the van. He opened the door for you and you got in thanking him. You showed little confusion, just a small smile, as you were used to his odd actions at this point. JJ got in the car, turned up the music and began driving. He felt nervous as shit. He spent the entire semester with you and now you were causing him to act like an idiot. And this wasn’t even a date! What was wrong with him? He clutched the top of the steering wheel and glanced over at you quickly before he started speaking.

“So uh I was thinking we could maybe get some food over at The Wreck? That… that cool?”

“Yeah that sounds good,” you responded. JJ didn’t really love the idea of going to the place Kie’s parents owned and she worked there. He’d be surprised if he didn’t see his dumbass best friends there trying to spy on his date. If they all weren’t, Kie would definitely be working there, and have prime position to embarrass him. But she did offer to cover half the bill and it was a hot spot. JJ figured it would look good and maybe earn him another date. Or a first real one actually. God he just hoped he wouldn't blow it. Another date with you, even if only one more sounded like a great deal to JJ, and he needed to do everything possible to make it happen.

***

You sat in the passenger seat of the van that JJ had informed you was called the Twinkie. The conversation lulled as he drove the car up to your house and in that moment of silence, realization dawned on you. Your brows scrunched as you tried to make sense of the thought that had appeared in your mind. JJput the car in park and you turned to him before he could say anything. You took a breath.

“JJ? Was this a date?” You asked it with hesitation but more confidence than you expected to come through your words. JJ turned to you, caught off guard, but quickly painted on his signature playful smirk.

“Did you want it to be,” he asks. You almost rolled your eyes.

“JJ,” you repeated more sternly this time. You really wanted to know his answer. “Was this a date?” His face softened and his expression changed from the confident boy most knew well to almost bashful. You decided you liked that look on him.

“I was kinda hoping it could be.” He looked up at you at the end of his statement and mustering all of his confidence leaned in. It happened quickly. He touched his lips briefly to yours in a soft kiss. It was so delicate that it stole your breath, making you dizzy. He pulled away before you could even process that moment. He looked at you, eyes closed and bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a smile. You took a deep breath in.

“Definitely a date then.” You opened your eyes slowly.

“That cool with you,” JJ asked, growing nervous. You nodded flashing that smile that JJ already found intoxicating.

“I’m hoping you can… take me on another one?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Okay,” you said. You leaned over quickly, mirroring his actions, and placed a kiss on his cheek. Just as quickly, you exited the car with one more look back at the boy. With your back to him as you unlocked your door, he let out a cheer before speeding off. You smiled to yourself as you entered your house and JJ grinned his whole way home.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagines #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #people watching #auroragreenvale #pplw

276 notes · View notes

selkies-and-cycles · 2 months

Text

The castle’s infirmary is quiet today.

The main physician sits at their desk, scribbling away some new kind of prescription, while the royal consort sits in a nearby chair, tongue stuck out in concentration. They hold a notebook up on their curled-up knees, reaching for a green pigment to add to their drawing. They’d come to help Morien organize some deliveries, but now that that was done, they’d taken to absentmindedly doodling in the quiet.

Eventually, Cuáine deems the drawing finished and gets up, sidling over to the physician’s desk.

"Look, it's you." Cuáine slides over the piece of paper with a small, teasing smile.

On the paper scrap is a doodle- almost childish, with how cartoony it is- of a seal with big green eyes staring up at Morien from the paper. The whiskers framing the eyes are overexaggerated to give it a little grumpy face- as grumpy as a cartoon seal can be, at least, and one flipper lies over a long, rounded cane with a green ribbon around it.

Morien blinks.

"...You drew me. As a seal." They state, deadpan. Their eyes drift over to Cuáine's expectant face, expression unnervingly blank.

Cuáine nods. Then, as the seconds tick on, they suddenly remember where and who they are.

They are no longer the laughing child on the coast of Venegard’s territory, pointing out seals playing on the rocky shore to their older brother. Their eyes no longer carry the bright-eyed brilliance they had been named after, the one that would make their parents ruffle their hair when presented with silly doodles.

Times had changed- those happy moments were undermined by the much clearer memories of when Cuáine had tried to talk to their parents or show them a pretty rock found down at the shore, only to be waved off for another time that never came. Osia called it stupid, really- low effort, not worth calling a ‘gift’ when a 5 year old could make something better.

Maybe a child could, but the intent had been pure- now, Cuáine just stares down at their silly scrap of paper with a sour taste in their mouth. This probably seemed stupid to Morien too.

"...Nevermind. If you think it's stupid, you can tell me." Their hand moves towards the scrap of paper on the physician's desk, fingers shaking slightly. "It's just supposed to-"

"No, no, it's-" Morien waves them off, and Cuáine's hand falls away. "-not. I was just... surprised. Doesn't seem very 'nobleborn battlemage' of you to do." They grumble, seeming almost defensive now as Cuáine lingers awkwardly by the side of their desk.

Cuáine hesitates, then says, "Well, I'm not many of the things I should be." They seem to think for a moment, then sidle closer, half-sitting on the edge of Morien's desk. They wait, taking the physician's half-glare as a sign to get off, but Morien doesn't say anything. So they relax, still being careful to put most of their weight on their ground foot.

Morien continues to write something down in their notebook, and Cuáine hums, going to twist their armlet.

“...I wasn’t aware you liked seals so much.”

Morien’s comment is quiet, and Cuáine would have almost missed it if it weren’t for the heavy silence blanketing the infirmary. For a moment, the royal consort blinks, unsure how to respond.

…They actually want to talk to me?

A small smile tugs at their lips, one of their ringed fingers tapping against the desktop. “I’ve loved them since I was a child. It’s rather an amusing story, actually. My parents have always lamented that they didn't name me ‘little seal’ Ronán, for how much I ended up loving them." Cuáine laughs lightly, shifting their gaze over to the little window that lets some light into the infirmary. "Apparently my father was of the opinion that the name was 'too common', so imagine his surprise when his seventh came out and eventually had to be dragged away from watching seals play on the shore. The, uh, doodling them-” Cuáine gestures again to the small seal drawing with a somewhat flushed expression, “-came from messin’ around with Saraah. It got to a point tha’ when I considered changing my name a couple times, he suggested I go with Ronán. I didn’t, obviously, but…”

“Hm.” Morien continues writing something down on a nearby pad of paper, and Cuáine has to resist the urge to be nosy and peek. They oddly aren’t meeting Cuáine’s face, but maybe they’re just focused? “Speaking of family, didn’t you say earlier that you had a meeting with Arthur and the council?”

Cuáine’s swinging leg stills, and they immediately swear, dark blonde hair swinging past their face when they jump off the desk. “Shit, I forgot about that! Thanks Morien!” They grab their bag and immediately dash out the infirmary door, but not without giving one last grateful wave to the physician.

As the door to the infirmary slams shut, Morien waits until the footsteps of the king's spouse have fully faded away before doing anything, including looking back down at the childish seal doodle.

"...Fuck." Morien murmurs, burying their face in their hands. It's the only way to successfully counteract their burning cheeks. "They might as well just fuckin’ stab me through the heart if they're gonna keep bein' this fuckin' cute."

Cuáine visits again only a few days later.

“Morien?”

When their knock and call go unanswered, they peek inside. Surprisingly, the infirmary is empty, devoid of its usual red-headed physician.

Perhaps Morien just had to go to the bathroom?

Regardless, Cuáine is here to drop off some herbs they gathered. They nudge the door open, walking over to the desk to drop the bundles off. Out of curiosity, green eyes stray to the mess of papers pinned to the wall’s cork board.

There, nestled among the notes for needed medicinal herbs, prescriptions and schedules, a small needle pins a little seal doodle to the wall.

Cuáine doesn’t quite believe it.

…Morien actually kept it?

Despite themself, Cuáine can feel a small grin curling their lips as they reach for another scrap of paper and lead pencil.

When Morien comes back, they find a package of herbs on the table and a new scrap of paper pinned to the wall- one with another seal doodled on it, holding a tiny knife in one flipper and a scar across its abdomen.

Look! It’s you n’ me.

(Eventually, the collection grows to include a seal with a crown, two with knightly armor, one with a long black braid, and a seal pup with tiny dragon wings, but the first two remain pinned together.)

---

(Morien and the setting belong to @the-kingshound!)

#tkh #tkh morien #tkh hound #tkh cuáine #HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS KAL #I WANTED THEM TO BE CUTE

81 notes · View notes

bendycxmet · 9 months

Text

Repair You—Vash the Stampede

Summary: Just repairing Vash's arm. He might see it as more than just a simple act of service though.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Content: fluff, the whole gangs here, drinking, drunken and silly Vash, Wolfwood being a tease

You sat quietly at the hotel desk for quite some time now, feet swung onto the hardwood desktop while haphazardly leaning backward in the rusty old chair with a book between your fingers. The crew had gone out for another late-night drinking session, negating your pleas to rest tonight as the previous night's session had taken a lot out of you.

"You're starting to show your age there yanno" quipped Wolfwood as he slung his arm heavily onto your shoulders. He leaned in, smirking with downward-cast eyes as the lit cigarette between his lips swirled nicotine smoke around your persona, putting you in a heady yet annoyed space.

"Am not! You know we're both around the same age, right?” You swatted the smoke that crawled its way into your nostrils, but Nico paid no mind, only crowding closer into your personal space to hear the futile excuse you gave next.

“It's just the hangover from this morning is still lingering. Maybe I feel it more than you since I out-drank your ass and you lost that bet when we were playing darts!" you teased as you wiggled your finger into his side. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, grumbling that you had cheated.

A loud stomp could be heard from behind, and before you could turn to see who was noisily heading your way, a tuft of blonde hair and dazed blue eyes appeared.

"Mayflyyyy cmonnn you didn't spend enough time with me yesterday night!" A poof of his breath revealed that Vash had already started the night's festivities. You see the striped tie wrapped around his forehead. You chuckle.

Yep, he’s definitely a couple drinks in.

Judging by how he had nudged his way between Wolfwood and yourself and sent a pointed glare toward the Undertaker, Vash was tipsy already. It was fun to see him tipsy when you were sober, as you were able to pinpoint the funny and affectionate little habits he threw your way, especially his small bouts of jealousy when Wolfwood became too close to you. He clung to your side as he batted his eyelashes, peering down at you with what could be described as the most endearing puppy dog eyes you have ever seen.

"Oh Vash, I did spend all yesterday night with you! You glued yourself to my side as if I was going to disappear! But you passed out on one of the tables before we left. That's why I played darts with Wolfwood." You giggled as you recalled Wolfwood begrudgingly carrying Vash back to your shared hotel room.

"Hey now you guys, let's just let them go back to their room. We can have enough fun here, right Milly?" drawled Meryl.

"Yeah!! Let's get a round of drinks going again, everyone. Have a good night y/n!" shouted Milly in a warbled tone as she clumsily made her way to the bar, Wolfwood trailing close behind to ensure the tall girl didn't drop any of their drinks.

"Mmmm please don't go…" whimpered Vash as he tucked his head into your neck. "I'll miss you too much."

"Vash, angel, have fun tonight okay?” You whispered into his ear.

“I'll be waiting back in the room. Plus, yanno what night it is?" you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly. Vash simply gave a slow blink.

"Arm repair day~"

Before the last word could escape your lips, Vash positively beamed at you, squealing in excitement before pecking your face and lips.

"Promise?!"

"I promise. I would never break our promise of these nights. Now go, I'll be waiting for you." You went to push him away as he kept planting wet, sloppy kisses against your cheeks, the skin flushing from his deep affections.

With that, you exit the populated bar, turning to look over your shoulder one last time as Vash bounds after the crew as they order another round of shots of a liquor you were too familiar with the night before. You groan, feeling nauseous at the thought.

You smile fondly at the memory that had played out only hours prior, ears perking up as several pairs of footsteps and giggling voices made their way down the hall. A loud thump could be heard before Meryl's quiet chastising ensued, warning the two to quiet down before they awakened the snoozing hotel patrons. Planting your feet down from the desk, you went to meet the crew in the hall. Swinging the door open, you were met with quite a chaotic scene.

Vash had Wolfwood's face in his hands, smooching faces being made as Wolfwood struggled to keep him at an arm’s length.

"Needle noggin I told you to quit it! I’m not your Mayfly.” Wolfwood perked up at the sound of your creaking door.

“Look! There’s your beloved Mayfly!” Vash whipped his head up, searching for you until his eyes met yours.

“Mayflyyy!” Vash pushed off Wolfwood and launched his body at yours standing in your shared hotel room threshold. You fell backwards with the strong, heavy weight of Vash abruptly meeting your ill-prepared stance, worrying you had hit your head on the dirty hardwood floors until you felt Vash’s warm fingers pressing into your skull. You sighed into his neck, wrapping your arms around him. Even drunk, Vash always prioritized the safety of your being.

“You should’ve seen him. His last drink sent him begging to see you. He was in tears. I shoulda told the bartender to dilute that beer,” chuckled Meryl, a snoring Milly hanging from her shoulders. “Well, we’re gonna turn in for the night. Good luck handling the typhoon.”

“Thanks you guys. Mind shutting the door? I’m in a bit of a… predicament.” Peering down, you can see the content smile gracing Vash’s face as he rubbed his face into your shirt, inhaling the scent of you.

“Sure thing. Night you guys.” With that, Meryl shut the door.

“Hey Stampede, enjoying yourself there?” Vash groaned, pinching your side with the hand that was not cradling your head.

“Yanno I hate when you call me that. Where’s my nicknamesss?” drawled Vash, sniffling as he peered up at you. You brought up one of your hands to tenderly caress his warm cheeks.

“Sorry my sweet angel~” you said in a lilted tone. “Thought you had forgotten all about me, and our designated nights.” Vash let out a loud gasp as he pushed himself so that he was sitting with his back to the end of the bed.

“Never ever! Look, I’m all ready.” Vash messily threw his red coat off, tugging his humanoid limb off and offering the piece to you. He seems to have sobered up quickly at the mention of what he had been looking forward to all night.

“What a good boy. Now go take a shower, you don’t smell like my usual Vash. I’ll get started on this.” Vash’s cheeks flushed an even darker pink at your praise, promptly hopping up and entering the bathroom, water and steam hissing from the gap under the closed door. You sat at the edge of the bed, tinkering with his arm with some tools you bought from a vendor many towns ago. You don’t understand why you love to do this for him. Maybe it's the only act of service you can do for him. Well, it’s the least you can do when he’s constantly laying down his life for you.

Vash exited the bathroom, steam filling the hotel room. His gray, weathered sweatpants hung low on his hips, chest left uncovered so that you could trail your eyes down the many scars littering his skin. You can never get used to seeing him like this, quickly averting your eyes back to the task at hand, struggling to quell the blush settled now on your face. The sensation of the cotton cloth between your fingers gave your brain a distraction from the sight in front of you. You missed the teasing spark in Vash’s eyes as he made his way to you, sitting on the floor and pushing his back between your calves hanging off the edge of the bed.

“How goes it?”

“Almost done… just gotta polish it.”

He hummed, tilting his head back until he was staring at you work. The cute crease you made in between your eyebrows whenever you were focused always had his heart twinge. How lovely it was to have someone take care of just one piece of him. Yearning for your attention after a long night without you, Vash turned his head to kiss the inner area of your knee. You giggled at the ticklish feeling.

“What’s wrong? You missed me that much?” You set the now polished arm on the bed, running your fingers through his coarse, soft blonde hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp. Vash hummed, his entire body slumping against the bed at your gentle caresses.

“You have no idea…” Vash’s breaths began to slow at the feeling of your fingertips combing through his wet hair. What a strange sight to see when his hair wasn’t spiked into his usual style. The way his hair settled lightly over his eyes gave him an almost vulnerable, boyish charm, the urge to shield him and take him away from the world that hurts him constantly hitting you square in the chest. You took a deep breath, remembering that he would rather get hurt himself before seeing you attempt to protect him. Better to just ensure the arm that protected not only yourself and the crew, but also himself, was optimized at all times.

“Let’s get under the covers, I can feel how tired you are.”

Vash progressively became heavier as a serene expression crossed his face, unfocused blues following your movements as you guided him under the covers, allowing his head to hit your chest, knowing he would appreciate hearing your soft, beating heart in his dreams. Vash’s last moments awake included him turning onto his side, arm wrapped around your middle, his legs interlacing with yours. The ensnaring warmth of him began to lull you to sleep, but not before you heard a quiet whisper floating upward from your chest.

“Thank you…”

You didn’t need an entire sentence to read in between the lines, or rather, in between two words to know that Vash was not just thanking you for repairing his humanoid arm. With those last two words from him, Vash’s soft, even breaths willed you to sleep.

A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for reading my first piece of fanfic I've ever posted! Not usually a writer, so bear with me haha just doing this for fun. I just really love Vash so I wanted to add some fanfics into the fandom. Thanks for reading and hope for your continued support! See ya <33

masterlist

Dividers

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #vash the stampede #vash x reader fluff #vash fluff #bendycxmet writes

227 notes · View notes

lovelykhaleesiii · 10 months

Note

chubby!aegon as a game streamer…. having his pretty girlfriend sat on his lap whilst he streams, when he does face streams the fans can see all the love bites on his neck🤭

something about chubby!gamer Aeg sends me over the edge... hope you enjoy this nonnie xox

Playboy

PAIRING: chubby!Gamer!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,340.

WARNINGS: thigh riding, praise kink, swearing, breast play/kink, slight dacryphilia.

A/N - not really feeling on par with the fandom at the moment, so I''ll be posting my fics and bolting off, appreciate the small few that keep up with me 💓

"Aeg, sweetie, really? How much more longer are you going to keep me waiting?" You defeatedly exclaim, as you throw your phone down, losing the device in the plush covers of the duvet. Your tiresome eyes wander over the backside silhouette of your boyfriend, immersed by the large screen of his desktop television. Making a promise many hours ago that it would be his final round, before joining you in bed to watch a film, you were met with disappointment each passing minute.

"Yeah-Yeah, I'll be done soon, babe. Just another 5 minutes," Aegon hastily interjected, followed by a sudden, loud outburst of swears as he cursed his younger nephew, Jacaerys, through his bulky headset. Cursing beneath his breath, one hand remaining tightly gripped on the controller, the other reached keenly for a handful of crisps, the crisply rustling beneath his reach before shoving the handful into his mouth. Not even a mouth full of potato crisps, could deny your boyfriend from spitting aloud vile threats unto his younger nephews or brothers.

"Seriously, Aeg? You said that fucking half an hour ago-"

No response. Whether he had actively ignored you or blatantly had not heard your mewling cries, it stung the wound deeper. Sensing your blood boil beneath your flesh, wickedly rolling your eyes at Aegon's ignorance. Finally succumbing to the notion of taking matters into your own hands, for this was becoming a far more frequent recurrence than you would've liked it to be...

"Jace shut the fuck up, and Aem quit being a punk-ass bitch and-"

Without warning and much to Aegon's utmost surprise, you strategically aim and toss aside your lace, pink g-string landing directly atop the edge of his illuminating screen. Firmly pushing yourself in between the desk and Aegon, the slight distance gathered, you cease the chance to drape your leg over his wide, stocky thighs, straddling his lap as your hands grip over his broad, fleshy shoulders. Steadying yourself, you tediously adjust yourself over him, tauntingly grinding down against him, as you seek comfort above him.

"W-Woah, babe, what are you d-doing?", Aegon stutters, as his plump mouth falls open in shock, those lilac eyes rapidly wandering over your nestled frame.

"Since you think it's okay to ignore your girlfriend, and since you think a fucking video game is more important than me... Let me show you exactly what you'll be missing out on."

Slowly and steadily, your hips began to move, bucking backwards and forwards as the throbbing heat between your inner thighs began to stir against Aegon's chunky, clothed thigh.

"Think you can just brush me off like that, and treat me like I'm nothing? Think you can just ignore me, and think you can get away with it? Not on my fucking watch, big boy," You sultrily whisper directly into Aegon's ear, as you pluck the headphone, lifting the device off his ear for him to hear clearly. Not sparing a second, Aegon lunged his headset off onto the desktop, as the mumbling voices of his online companions echoed wolf whistles and pleas to hear more from you, became fainter against Aegon's groans.

The longer you paced yourself rocking and rubbing your bare, moist cunt against his thigh, the further you dug yourself into Aegon's larger, sturdy frame: his larger chair swaying in rhythm to your lustful movements.

Since Aegon took advantage of his newly found sedentary lifestyle, occasionally working from home and currently relishing in his vacation from work, he'd grown accustomed to comfort. Often ordering food when you were absent from home at work, too lazy and occupied to whip himself something fresh from home, he sought immense pleasure in gaming and dining in takeout: the simple life. Yet his recent pleasure-seeking behaviour had its perks...

His round, portly stomach pooled slightly over his lap, extending subtly beyond his waistline now hidden beneath his generous adipose flesh. Your cunt grinding against his thigh, and your breasts pushing up against his paunchy chest, earning a few deep, growling whimpers from your boyfriend.

Your face buried against the soft crook of his neck, your lips nuzzling at his skin, guiding your hands over Aegon's forearms, noticing how tightly he was gripping to the arms of his chair.

"Easy playboy, you seem a little tense? Was the game so captivating, so invigorating? I must be such a disappointment for you to forget me so easily, huh?" You sadistically whimper, moaning closely into Aegon's eager ear.

"A-Am I a disappointment, baby? That you feel the need to distract yourself so, neglecting me without a second thought-"

"N-Never-" Aegon groaned, propping himself up for a split second as he shifted in his seat, one pudgy hand supporting your back as he did so, and the other remained gripped to the chair's arm. Doing so, you plunged deeper against his porky frame, your body leaning in closer to Aegon's larger frame, as you felt his strong hands shoving you closer, his palms coincidentally gripping tightly at your rear cheeks. Your boyfriend's notorious, hard bulge now prominently probing beneath the entrance of your cunt, feeling the pulsating tension growing stronger the second you could feel him against you.

"Then why have you left me practically begging for you, for the past hour? Is that what it is, playboy? You love to see me beg? Begging for you and only you, hmm?"

"And if I do, so what? It turns me on seeing you crying and whining for me like that, Princess, you know that." Aegon menacingly uttered, his palms tenderly kneading at your cheeks, even earning a sudden, sharp spank as he lowly chuckled.

"And I also know, how much these turn you on too, huh, handsome?" Releasing your grip, your hands having found their way to Aegon's short mottled, blonde strands: to gracefully draw down the straps of your night silk gown, baring your perky tits right in front of his hungry eyes. Like a predator meeting its mindless prey, Aegon's mouth latched eagerly to your sensitive nipple, as his eyes had glued shut, whilst suckling onto them. You swore, you had felt the second his rigid, growing cock twitched with excitement beneath the tight fabric of his track pants, against your aroused, wet cunt: leaving a evident patch of your titillating mess.

"Such a greedy man you are. Nothing can ever be enough for you, hmm?-"

"You are enough-" Aegon breathlessly moaned, as he broke apart before re-latching onto your other breast: the innocent skin from where Aegon had suckled previously now swollen and rosy, evident marks of Aegon's lips and teeth bitten down against your tender flesh.

"And yet... You have me waiting at your beckon call hours on end, as you play your meaningless, little game and think you'd go unpunished?-"

One hand aggressively pulled at Aegon's hair, as his face no longer buried deep into your bosom, earning a defeated, wincing look strewed across his handsome, chubby face.

"Absolutely not."

With your instant outburst, you promptly stood back up, redressing your nightgown, as you plucked your g-string off his screen, tossing it onto Aegon's ruffled face. Vexed speechless, he remained frozen, before the silence that drenched the room was sliced by the static voices booming from Aegon's headphones, as they taunted their elder Uncle and brother.

Aegon, struggling yet just managing to reach for his headphones, directed the microphone to his mouth sternly cursing the boys for his ruin before bidding them a haste goodbye.

With strenuous effort, as he stood himself up, Aegon rushed striding towards you, laying himself stomach down, as his upper body pinned over your legs, weighing you down.

"Okay, okay, Y/N, I deserved that. L-Let me make it up to you, baby. I promise, I'll be your good, good boy-"

"You're going to have to try a little harder, Aeg-" You teasingly sang, grinning as your arms crossed over, eyes mindlessly shut, imitating the act of drifting off to sleep.

"Whatever you want, Princess. You have my undivided attention, forever and always, I swear it."

general taglist - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #TGC #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii x fem!reader #aegon ii x y/n #chubby!gamer!Aegon ii #modern!Aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction

380 notes · View notes

samflir · 1 year

Text

What makes a good boot sequence?

A while ago, I had my first truly viral post on Mastodon. It was this:

You might've seen it. It got almost four hundred boosts and reached beyond Mastodon to reddit and even 4chan. I even saw an edit with a spinning frog on the left screen. I knew the post would go down well with tech.lgbt but I never expected it to blow up the way it did.

I tried my best to express succinctly exactly what it is I miss about BIOS motherboards in the age of UEFI in this picture. I think looking at a logo and spinner/loading bar is boring compared to seeing a bunch of status messages scroll up the screen indicating hardware being activated, services being started up and tasks being run. It takes the soul out of a computer when it hides its computeriness.

I think a lot of people misunderstood my post as expressing a practical preference over an aesthetic one, and there was at least a few thinking this was a Linux fanboy post, which it certainly is not. So here's the long version of a meme I made lol.

Stages

I remember using two family desktop computers before moving over a family laptop. One ran Windows XP and the other ran Windows 7. Both were of the BIOS era, which meant that when booting, they displayed some status information in white on black with a blinking cursor before loading the operating system. On the XP machine, I spent longer in this liminal space because it dual-booted. I needed to select Windows XP from a list of Linux distros when booting it.

I've always liked this. Even as a very little kid I had some sense that what I was seeing was a look back into the history of computing. It felt like a look "behind the scenes" of the main GUI-based operating system into something more primitive. This made computers even more interesting than they already were, to me.

Sequences

The way old computers booted was appealing to my love of all kinds of fixed, repeating sequences. I never skip the intros to TV shows and I get annoyed when my local cinema forgets to show the BBFC ratings card immediately before the film, even though doing so is totally pointless and it's kinda strange that they do that in the first place. Can you tell I'm autistic?

Booting the windows 7 computer would involve this sequence of distinct stages: BIOS white text -> Windows 7 logo with "starting windows" below in the wrong aspect ratio -> switch to correct resolution with loading spinner on the screen -> login screen.

Skipping any would feel wrong to me because it's missing a step in one of those fixed sequences I love so much. And every computer that doesn't start with BIOS diagnostic messages is sadly missing that step to my brain, and feels off.

Low-level magic

I am extremely curious about how things work and always have been, so little reminders when using a computer that it has all sorts of complex inner workings and background processes going on are very interesting to me, so I prefer boot sequences that expose the low-level magic going on and build up to the GUI. Starting in the GUI immediately presents it as fundamental, as if it's not just a pile of abstractions on top of one another. It feels deceptive.

There may actually be some educational and practical value in computers booting in verbose mode by default. Kids using computers for the first time get to see that there's a lot more to their computer than the parts they interact with (sparking curiosity!), and if a boot fails, technicians are better able to diagnose the problem over a phone call with a non-technical person.

Absolute boot sequence perfection

There's still one last thing missing from my family computer's boot sequence, and that's a brief flicker of garbage on screen as VRAM is cleared out. Can't have everything I guess. Slo-mo example from The 8-Bit Guy here:

#computers #opinion #boot sequences #computing history #meme

169 notes · View notes

shdwsurce · 2 months

Text

SENTENCE STARTERS: LYRICS THAT HIT ME IN THE FEELS [PT. 1] change words as needed ! ctrl + shift + v to paste into the inbox on desktop.

❝ if you choose not to decide you still have made a choice. ❞

❝ we can’t afford to be innocent. ❞

❝ just ‘cause it’s part of a plan doesn’t make it right. ❞

❝ even at the best times I’m out of my mind. ❞

❝ I’m that kind of trouble you know you want to get into. ❞

❝ and when they tell you to give them a smile why don’t you show them how sharp your teeth are ? ❞

❝ my addictive personality finally got the best of me. ❞

❝ I’m just talking but they tell me I’ve been screaming. ❞

❝ this here isn’t singing, it’s just screaming in tune. ❞

❝ I can taste you in my rage. ❞

❝ when you think your wounds are greater a victim can be perpetrator. ❞

❝ I hate this, but push came to shove. ❞

❝ forgive us these smiles on our faces ❞

❝ just picked out an early grave to bury shit; not me, just the weight I’ve been carrying. ❞

❝ maybe in another life we could have done this right, but I guess we’ll never know for sure. ❞

❝ think of all the horrors that I promised you I’d bring. ❞

❝ the only thing I know is it’s easy to miss when you never aim. ❞

❝ i want to know what it’s like to feel wanted for more than something that’s less than dishonest. ❞

❝ there’s a bright side to every wrong thing if you’re looking at me through the right eyes. ❞

❝ even a well lit place can hide salvation. ❞

❝ funny how a fall could feel just like flying when I'm waiting for it to hit me ❞

❝ if we've got no honor then we've got no shame ❞

❝ somehow you slayed your hope, but didn't let yourself know it had died ❞

❝ what would you do if I took this dagger in me and removed it ? ❞

❝ take it out on someone who won't hit you back ❞

❝ say goodbye to your mr. nice guy; you got your wish, he's rotting in hell ❞

❝ maybe I'm a good guy standing on the wrong side; maybe I'm a sweetheart trying to make my own scars ❞

❝ I do this all the time, blending in between the lines of my fiction ❞

❝ I'm feeling pretty empty, this attitude is expensive ❞

❝ paradise waits only for the lonely, the escapist, and the brave ❞

❝ drag me to death, like a lit cigarette ❞

❝ so if I'm honest, I think I'm beginning to question how much I want this ❞

❝ if you know the hunter is coming then you hide or keep on running, because they have slain the gods before. ❞

❝ by the time you figure out the rules I broke I've already won the game ❞

❝ have I done wrong ? am I guilty ? ❞

❝ now would you pray before you twist the knife ? ❞

❝ I'd like to pause, no matter what I pretend, like a pilgrim who learns to transcend; learns to live as if each step was the end. ❞

❝ I was given a name before I was given blood, like you were given your faith before there was made a god. ❞

❝ you say 'please don't ever change' but you don't like me the way I am ❞

❝ the more we think we know about, the greater the unknown ❞

repost of an old meme I created. also here is a playlist based on these prompts ♡

#sentence starters #ask prompt #ask meme #roleplay meme #sentence prompts #sentence meme #rp meme #° prompt !

50 notes · View notes

spacesurfing · 2 years

Note

Hi!! I saw that ur requests were opened and I love your fics! I was wondering if you could write a smut with Anakin where reader is really insecure over having small boobs and a small butt. And well... Anakin makes her feel better. 🤗 thank you sooooo much!!!

Thank you so much, it makes me so very happy knowing people enjoy my writing!! Of course!!! (Sorry about the color, I just realized you're allowed funny colors on desktop).

•--•

The Light Casting Beauty

Anakin Skywalker x Reader Smut

Summary: Anakin loves his girl beyond what a Jedi's love should reach. She doesn't love herself though. Sounds like it's time to show her how much he really does love her.

Warnings: porn without plot, established relationship, oral (f!recieving), mmm hand kink, insecure reader

GIF NOT MINE!!

•--•

He drank in your features, the blinds shedding the sunset onto your face. Your eyebrows relaxed as light beads of sweat clung to them, hair disheveled, laying against the navy blue blankets in messy swirls. A strip of light cast across your eyes, highlighting thick eyelashes and the deep color of your eyes, crystalizing right in front of him. Your nose, shading the left side of your face as the contour of it was revealed by the breaching of orange light. Your lips, glistening with saliva after he had kissed you endlessly moments before. Your face looked much younger now in the moment, glowing like a lantern through the night.

And your body, your skin glistening as his eyes scanned over you. You were perfect, a model in his eyes, sculpted to perfection. Light shed over your collarbone, highlighting the dip in your skin as you inhaled, then exhaled. Your boobs, the trim of the blinds just missing your nipples, hardened and perky. He touched you, making sure you were real again. His eyes scanned over your stomach, trailing his fingertips over the skin. He saw your skin in an orange hue, half of your belly button and the one side of your waist. Another, highlighting your pelvis, where your thighs barely began.

Then your mound, the slit of it hardly visible as your spread thigh took all the glory in the light. His hand squeeze the inner skin. The blinds stopped highlighting any more of your body as the lines of light ceased. His hands carried back up to your breasts, squeezing them in his hands softly.

"Ani," you breathed as he kneaded them like a lothcat. You had felt embarrassed at the moment - not that he was touching you, but that you were so exposed after feeling so insecure.

He leaned down, lips touching the skin between your boobs. You watched him with wonder. Pulling back, he did it again, laying a trail of kisses on the valley before pulling back and looking at you.

"You're so perfect, Y/n, your face, your body, your boobs, your ass, your everything. There is no one in this galaxy that could compete with you and your beauty. Inside and out."

You blushed at his words. Even as you were both fully naked, clothes discarded to the sides of the beds, you felt so flustered at his words. You'd been under him multiple times, some of them so shameless you didn't even believe any of it was real, but it all was, and it all was by the same man that you still seemed to crush over while dating.

You arched your back into him as his rough palms caused friction at your nipples as he squeezed them. Anakin leaned down for his lips to meet yours in something that had stopped being desperate long before this night began. Nothing was desperate tonight, you felt comfortable with slow. Nothing was teasing, nothing was quick, and it all amounted to everything. You needed this, your heart aching to be under him and be loved, for yourself, for your body, for your heart. And Anakin would always do that, cause he always did love you for everything you offered. Your flaws became only pebbles compared to the stones of what they once were because he loved you whether you fixed them or not. All he wanted was for you to be comfortable being you.

You breathed softly against his mouth when he pulled away to take in air before melding his lips to your once again. His hair tickled your face, forehead glossed over with sweat. And pulling away, his eyes opened and they glowed. Blue orbs in the darkening room, so beautiful and full of love.

Anakin let his hands slip down to hold your waist, keeping eye contact with you, "Every day you continue to breathe, I will love you with all of my heart. Y/n, you are something special. Your body deserves to be worshipped. Nobody's perfect, but if anybody could defy that saying, it would be you, my love."

His hands trailed slowly down to your hips, reaching under to squeeze the flesh of your ass. It certainly was hot, but it didn't feel rough, it felt like love. His thumbs dug into the plush sides of you, kissing up your nose and onto your forehead before trailing his soft lips back down and kissing you sweetly on your lips. A spark emitted when you two connected, igniting a string of fireworks inside of your belly.

Running his hands over your hipbone and letting his right hand cup your mound, he ran his middle finger through your folds. He collected slick onto it, pulling from you and putting it to his mouth, licking up your juices.

Anakin let his body snake down the bed till his face was level with your crotch. His arms grappled around your legs, keeping you locked to him. His arms were hard, muscles leading up to his shoulders, showing you just how toned he was as he held onto you. His hands dug into the meat of your thighs, flesh hand sporting veins that made you wanna squirm.

He flattened his tongue again against your slit before licking from your hole up. You were wet, you had to admit it, the way he was looking at your like you were fucking dessert made you feel hot all over. You let out a quiet moan when he flicked his tongue like a snake, hitting the wet muscle on your clit in the process.

"Sweetest thing in this universe, could eat you all night," he groaned, moving up so he could sit and get comfortable, "Think I might."

With your lower back raised off the bed, you felt like you looked stupid but Anakin obviously didn't agree with that as he devoured you. His lips attacked you folds with a hunger of a thousand womp rats. His fingers held your hips tight, like if he let loose any you'd fall off the edge of Coruscant.

"Ani, fuck, feels really good," you purred, hands scrambling to hold his wrists. The way his hair fell in his face, strands sticking to his forehead with sweat, made you breathless. His blue eyes were shielded by closed eyelids that sported gorgeous thick eyelashes. He was a sight, the image of pure sex appeal.

Your praise only spurred him on with his motions, practically making out with your folds. You let out a particularly loud moan when his lips wrapped around your pearl, sucking softly. His eyes opened, half lidded and dark irises. He looked absolutely pussy-drunk, sipping you like his favorite drink.

He licked at you in an excruciatingly painful speed, making you whine and buck your hips up at him. He only chuckled, "So needy, angel. You want more?"

"Yes, yes Ani please. Please Anakin, I need more."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your slit, "Louder, c'mon pretty thing, I know you can be loud for me."

"Please!" you moaned, holding a tight grip around his wrists.

He glared at you, "Please what? You're only making this harder for yourself."

You were close to tears at this point, feeling his breath fan over your wetness every time he spoke to you or teased you. Anakin's ways of teasing were horrible and you hated them. But it made him so happy, you couldn't just refuse to obey.

"Please Anakin!"

He smirked, looking like he was high off of death sticks for how groggy his eyes were, mouth finding you again and eating you out like you were a juicy jogan fruit on Tatooine.

The moan you let out was strangled, something between a sigh of relief and pure bliss. You'd forgot the embarrassing position, forgot the insecurities, forgot that you were even home. Every feeling that surround you was surreal. All you could remember was the fact that Anakin was between your legs, prettier than you'd ever seen him and he was intoxicated from your juices.

Your thoughts came and went like a breeze, trying to think straight but giving up the second you felt the overwhelming sensation of him.

You were close, almost at your brink of release. But, Anakin had a new trick up his sleeve that he so badly wanted to try out. And it was mind-breaking. Breaching your opening with the tips of his middle and index finger, he opened up room in your clenching walls and stuck his fucking tongue in you.

You damn-near screamed, clamping a hand over your own mouth as you came on his lips and tongue. He licked you through it, tongue no longer able to dip in with how tight he'd wound you.

The moment you relaxed, you heard his laughter which set your face ablaze. He set you down, crawling over you with the goofiest smile you'd ever seen. He licked around his lips, wiping off his chin with the back of his flesh hand.

"I wanna try that again. You should've seen how hot you looked. Those pretty little eyes rolling into the back of your head," Anakin got really close up with you, thighs resting around his hips while he leaned towards your face, "I think I'll die if I don't fuck that pretty pussy, would you care to save a man's life angel?"

"An-Anything for you Ani."

He wasted no time with showing you how much his hard on also loved you.

•--•

Masterlist

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #star wars x reader smut #star wars x reader #star wars smut

893 notes · View notes

intramoon · 1 year

Note

Hellooo 🥺 I wanted to know if you have followed a tutorial to make the last gifs? Or would you show how to make them? Than you so much 💕

I didn't follow any specific tutorial, I've just made a quick little process after researching how other people on Tumblr make gifs. I can tell you how I do but I would definitely recommend following a tutorial of someone more qualified! lol

Aj's Guide To Sims Gifs

I am going to show you how I made this gif of Wednesday:

You'll need:

A screen recording program; Streamlabs, OBS Studio

Adobe Photoshop (FYI I am using the newest version).

The full tutorial is below the cut.

I promise it is easy, this tutorial is just long because I want to cover all bases, so if you have no idea what any of what I am saying means you can still follow along easily!

Lets get started!

1. Installing Your Recording Programs

You'll need to be able to record your game. Any streaming or screen recording program with work perfectly! I use Streamlabs because that's what I use for Twitch, but OBS Studio will work too! I've used them all, I recommend Streamlabs because it's more user-friendly.

2. Setting Up Your Recording Programs

You'll need to set up a scene in your streaming program that records your display or your game. In Streamlabs you go to the plus bottom beside sources and add either a Display Capture or a Game Capture, select your display or game. Is there a difference? Using game capture will remove any of your miscellaneous desktop UI and you won't have to crop it out later down the line. Despite that being pretty handy, I do display capture because I am difficult. lol If you have questions about this step feel free to send a ask, but I am going to skip over this to be able to go into more detail about the gif-making process.

3. Recording Your Scenes

Now you'll need to record your scenes in-game! I recommend doing this with ReShade or gshade. I use ReShade. Just make sure your lighting is how you like, the time of day is how you like, and have fun! Tip #1: Save your game before you start recording any scenes. Especially if you are recording gameplay, this will allow you to go back if you miss an animation or interaction. You'll be able to reload your game where you were and you can try to capture the moment again. Tip #2: Only record for 10-20 seconds at a time. Yes, you'll have a bunch of small recordings and that is what you want. You'll have to import those clips to Photoshop and if they are over 30 seconds they are going to strain your computer and be difficult to work with. Record animations just one time through, and re-record from different angles. This will let you pick from a variety of clips to get the gif you want. For 5-7 gifs I have 15-ish recordings that are about 10 seconds each, for reference. Tip #3: If you are alpha like me and are plagued by alpha hair vs. MXAO, just be intentional with the hair choices you make because you cannot edit the MXAO out later (I mean you can but it is a lot of fucking work). I have found updos are better at not having crazy MXAO spots. Or opt for using sims with darker hair.

4. Loading and Shortening Your Clip

Now, pick the first clip you'd like to convert to a gif. Go to File > Import > Import Videos To Frames and then select the video file for the clip. A window will appear that looks like this:

From here you are going to select the exact moment in your clip that you want to use. The two half-sliders underneath the timeline are your start and stop points. You want to move them to just encompass the moment you want to use. Try to cut it down as much as possible to just the moment you need, the longer the clip the more frames, the longer it will take to render and the harder it will be on your computer. You will know if your clip is too long with this pop-up:

Avoid this!

My cut-down clip looks like this:

5. Loading In Your Layers & Workspace

Your workspace should look like this!

You should see 100-200ish layers on the right side and a timeline on the bottom. If you do not see the layers on the right side go to Window > Layers, you should be able to see them after doing this. If you do not see a timeline on the bottom, go to Window > Timeline, you should be able to see it after doing this. If your timeline does not look like mine and rather like this:

Don't worry! That's totally fine! If you do want to change it click the three squares on the bottom left and it will show each individual frame.

6. Cropping and Resizing

You want to work with the smallest file possible so you can use the littlest amount of resources and have the smallest file size. This is, one, to reduce strain on your computer but also because Tumblr only allows gifs that are 10MB. We want to keep the gif as small as possible.

First, we are going to crop our gif! In my example, I need to crop out my computer UI. I think long gifs and square gifs look the best, so I am going to crop my long ways.

We also want to resize our gif to 540px. I know people get on me for resizing my screenshots to 540px but this is a MUST for gifs. If not they will be blurry. They are not like screenshots and portraits. In my crop settings, you'll see I have my set to 540px.

That makes the cropping resizing process quicker by killing two birds with one stone. Alternatively, you can crop as normal, and then resize to 540px afterward. I've done both and both get the same result! If your post will have two gifs side by side you'll want to crop your gifs to 268px.

If it takes Photoshop a little bit of time to crop the image, that is normal! Just requires some patience. The same goes for resizing. I've found sometimes resizing takes the longest.

My resized gif looks like this!

7. Editing Your Gif

Technically your gif is done! If you don't intend on editing it you can export it and you're done! I like to do a little editing on my gifs.

To edit gifs you'll need to use non-destructive editing methods, ie. adjustment layers or smart objects but most likely adjustment layers. If you, for example, edit by going to Image > and then adjusting your image, you'd have to do that to all your layers. That's not viable. Instead, you'll want to make a group at the top of all your layers and place your adjustment layers in the group. You can make a group by clicking the folder icon at the bottom of your layers panel. You can create adjustment layers by clicking the half-shaded circle on the bottom of your layers panel.

BE CAREFUL! Make sure you are doing edits on layer 1, if you edit other random layers the edit will only apply to those layers. I've made this mistake a few too many times.

As for sharpening, this is when you'd use your sharpening action or sharpen it yourself. I am going to be using this sharpening action by insomniacgifs. I've used a handful but this is the one I like the most because it converts my layers into a smart object that lets me do more edits later (which I will show you).

All sharpening actions are different so make sure to read their instructions before you use them. Some sharpening actions have a layer limit so they will not work on longer gifs.

To start using insomniacgifs action I have to convert my layers to frames. They have an action for this. I select "Layer 1" and run their "Frames to Timeline" action.

Now my layers are in a smart object!

Smart objects are a non-destructive way to edit and something I recommend using with gifs and your edits. Smart objects also preserve the quality of your images despite you resizing and editing your image.

In regards to gifs, this allows me to use Camera Raw Filter and more heavily edit my gif! All I am going to do is open Camera Raw Filter and edit away! It will apply my edits to a layer attached to this smart object.

After I've done my edits, I will pick which level of sharpening I want to use from insomniacgifs action. I usually pick soft. I am going to press play on the "Soft" action. This does sometimes take a while to load. You may get a progress bar. Just be patient. This may take a few minutes.

Now that the Soft actions have finished, my gif is sharpened! I am extra and want to tweak my gif a little more. After finishing the Soft action all my layers will be in a "gif" folder. Remember how I mentioned before that to edit gifs you want to place a group above your layers and place your adjustment layers inside? I am going to do that now! It looks something like this:

8. Saving Your Gif

Now, finally, we can save! This is the easiest part! Go to File > Export > Export for The Web (Legacy). I window will open that looks like this:

In the top right, make sure the file type is set to GIF. Here you can play your gif and see it in action! Now, this is what I normally notice if I do not like the speed of the gif. It defaults to 0.06 seconds per frame. Sometimes I like this slow pace to get a dreamier gif but with this gif, it's too slow. I will show you how to fix it. Close this window and go to your timeline. Shift + Left-Click the first and last layers on the timeline. Right-click on the frame duration.

Now click other and change it to your desired duration. For me, that will be 0.03 seconds.

Now let's try to save again! This is the end result!

If you have questions please do not hesitate to ask! I will update this tutorial as people ask questions and clarification is needed! You can always hit me up if you need help!

#Tutorial #Asks #anonymous #Oof this #was a lot of work but I hope it helps you #if you want to learn now to make gifs!

102 notes · View notes

gghalcyon · 1 year

Text

KÖNIG: Liebling, are you awake? Can we talk over the video link? It's been so long. Not sure when the next chance will be. Missing you like crazy. YOU: Send me the link, baby 🥰 ❤️. I can't wait to see your face and hear your voice again. It's been too long. I can't wait, baby.

It's a rare occasion to have a video call with you. Usually when you do it means Konig must be in a main headquarters as his team reconvenes as part of their mission. You don't care about the details; you're just happy to see your boyfriend's handsome face smiling at you on the other side of the screen. You both smile from ear to ear, saying sweet nothings and words of how much you miss one another.

You observe his features and notice new scars on his face, a fresh cut on the top of his left brow, and an unmistakable weariness about him. He looks tired, exhausted from his missions. You wish you could wipe away his tiredness, hope you could kiss it away. But you can't. He's on the other side of the world, and all you have is this short time together through video. You know he only has 15 minutes with you. There are others that wait to call their loved ones too. Right now, though, you want him to know just how much you miss him and give him the respite he desperately needs.

You shift in your seat, standing and pushing it aside. You're standing right in front of the camera on your desktop computer, and your bed is visible behind you. You brush away any nervousness, determined to please and show him exactly how much you miss him. You show him what you're wearing, his large shirts that you slowly and playfully lift up and remove. You take the shirt off and throw it aside, revealing your pert breasts and curves. You’re not wearing a bra, only a cotton black thong.

He gasps and adjusts himself in his seat. "You're far too stunning for words, my pet. What do you have in mind?"

"I'm going to show you how much I miss you." You start swaying your hips in a slow and tantalizing dance, twirling and moving your body sensually. You move your hands all over your body, caressing yourself.

You can feel his eyes boring into you, making you even more aroused. You slide your hands up and down your body, over your thighs, and then up to your breasts and back again. His breathing quickens as you go on, and you can sense the arousal in his voice.

"Get on the bed," he orders, the desperation in his voice clear as he adjusts himself underneath his tactical pants. You know he won't touch himself, relishing in the torture of watching you pleasure yourself. He memorizes your body with his eyes, committing it to memory for later. Now, though, he wants to see just how much you miss him, how much you want him— and you willingly comply.

You walk towards the bed, a seductive sway in your hips, and slowly lie down. The camera is positioned perfectly, and you can already feel the phantom stares of an audience that isn't there. Opening your legs and pushing your underwear to the side, you show him just how wet you already are for him. Your hand finds its way to your clit and starts to rub circles around it, imagining it's his hands and mouth instead of exploring every inch of your body. Pleasure rushes through you like waves crashing against the shore.

"I'm thinking of you right now," you whisper between moans, "the way you touch me makes me wild with your fingers."

Your words reverberate through the speakers, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze even from miles away. You can almost sense him beside you, intensifying your pleasure with every stroke of his fingertips you imagine. As your breathing quickens, you start to move faster, yearning for a release that seems just out of reach.

He moans at your words, his voice thick with longing as he demands something more over the static sound. You arch your back off the bed and spread your legs wider in an invitation, wishing he could be here to touch you.

"Insert another one, my love," he urges. You comply by pushing two of your fingers inside of you while your other hand continues to caress your clit with firm strokes. With each thrust of your fingers, pleasure builds within you, and you moan softly, aware that nobody is listening but him. The notion only sends a wave of slickness between your legs.

"Faster," he says. "Pretend it's me you're riding, my love."

You start rocking against your hand, feeling waves of pleasure crest like a raging sea. You can almost feel him there with you, his hands on your hips pushing you further until you finally can't take anymore. You cry out his name as an orgasm pulses through your body, leaving you feeling breathless and exhausted but still wanting him.

You lie there panting, trying to comprehend the force of what has just happened. You wish he was right with you; you wish he was touching himself and that you came together, but this time is for giving him the vivid memory of your longing for him.

"My sweet, I wish I was there," he says from the speakers. His voice is gentle and comforting even though he's so far away. You are thankful for the reminder that despite the space between you, there is still a powerful connection between you, fueled by love and desire.

You close your eyes, imagining what it would be like to have him in your arms right now, wrapping you up in his warmth and love. You take a deep breath and smile as you let these thoughts wash over you.

You whisper softly, "I know eventually we'll be right here together, my love."

"Can't wait until that day," he says ardently, the emotion in his voice resonating through you and making your heart swell with bliss and expectation.

Read More Textuals Series | Master List | Read on AO3

#könig #könig cod #könig imagine #könig x f!reader #könig x you #könig x reader #könig smut #könig fanfiction #könig romance #gghalcyon #könig textuals

85 notes · View notes

yanderu-deredere · 9 months

Note

Saw that some of your OCs are into phone sex sooo! How would they react to their usually shy darling leaving a voicemail or something of him masturbating and you can hear the pap pap of him jerking off in the background?

a/n: hewwo! thank you for the lovely wonderful request! i absolutely love it loool i've included all my ocs that are into phone sex! hope you enjoy! (also lmaooo not the pap pap pap LOOOL)

warning: male reader as requested, phone sex, implied voice kink, male reader is the top LOL, ryouta's is kind of phone sex but kind of not

ryouta watanabe ★ profile

"Hey, I know you're probably working… but I just really miss you—"

Ryouta immediately felt his face heat up and his cock harden at the sound of your voice, all breathy and soft. You didn't usually leave him voicemails so he had gotten worried when he saw that notification on his phone.

Apparently, it was much more of an emergency than he though. His favourite kind of emergency.

"Just— hah, call me back when you get this. Please—"

His hand immediately pressed down on his growing hard-on. Mostly to give himself some sort of relief, something to grind and rut against as he listened to your sweet whining and the gorgeous way you called out his name.

The worst part was that he could hear you in the background, could barely make out the wet smack of skin and lube. Were you that desperate for him?

Ryouta had never seen this side of you before. You were usually so shy and coy, always avoiding his gaze and hiding your warm flustered face. But this? He wanted to see more.

Without even listening to the rest of the voice mail, he called you on Discord. Not on the phone. He needed to see your face, needed to see you and what you were doing.

Thankfully, you seemed to be at your desktop like he was because you answered almost immediately.

Ryouta groaned at the sight of you. Your hair was ruffled, the expression on your face pathetic. You had shed all your clothes and, from the way you sat far enough from your computer camera, he saw you fisting your cock, pre-cum already dribbling out.

“Ryou…” You huffed, hips jerking desperately.

“Are you drunk or something?” Ryouta started pushing down both his sweatpants and his boxers, his cock springing up and achingly hard “You’ve never called me like this before.”

You let out a soft sob “I-I just— I don’t know. I really miss you. You’ve been so busy.”

Ryouta couldn’t tell through the camera but he could guess that your entire face and ears were probably hot and that it took all the courage in you to admit something like that. It probably took you even more to call him, begging him.

Then again, Ryouta got you to beg pretty easily sometimes.

“Oh, darling.” He squirted some lube onto his palm before fisting his own hard-on “What were you thinking about that made you miss me?”

“Just you.” You started pumping your cock faster but Ryouta easily matched your pace “How you feel wrapped around me. How you clench on my c-cock.”

Ryouta had to bite his lip and resist the urge to cum just from your words. To think he’d had that much of an affect on you. It filled him with a sense of adoration for you.

“Want you to hold me tight and k-kiss me.” Your free hand suddenly came up to cover some of your face, likely because you were feeling too shy.

It was something you did often and Ryouta hated it.

“Don’t.” He snapped, frown evident “I want to see you. All of you.”

“Good boy.” His expression quickly turned into a soft smile when your hand dropped immediately and he couldn’t help but think the pouting look on your face was especially cute.

“Just— C-Can you come over? If you’re not too busy?” You arched your back a little, hips still jerking as you ran your fist up and down your hard cock “Wanna show you how much I’ve missed you.”

Ryouta let out a soft chuckle as he leaned back, his fist still matching your pace “Hmmm, I don’t know.”

He relished the devastated look on your face for a minute before sighing “Maybe if you be good for me and cum?”

That shy expression on your face returned but there was no way in hell you could deny him.

yeong-bae kigal ★ profile

“Hey, Yeongie, how’s the tour? I really miss you.”

Yeong-bae felt their heart melt a little at your soft voice. After a whole day of tiring fans and preparing for a troublesome concert, the sound of your voice gave them an energy that surprised them.

Like you, Yeong-bae was a bit more on the shy side. Though it was easy for them to pretend not to be, it didn’t change the fact that it drained them to act like the cool and aloof guy their fans expected them to be.

Sometimes, it felt like the only reason they kept being a pop-star was just to pamper you.

You, their timid and cute boyfriend. You, the love of their life. Oh, how he missed you too.

“I— We haven’t done are usual calls lately… I just miss your voice a lot.”

Yeong-bae hadn’t even realized! They felt bad about that. They’d just been so busy and it felt like they barely had time to sleep, let alone do anything else. To think something so important had slipped their mind!

Still, their work didn’t give him an excuse to neglect you, though.

Just as they were about to pause the voicemail to call you, your voice turned a bit breathier and Yeong-bae had to pause for a second to try and figure out exactly what was going on.

“Not just your voice… Fuck… I miss everything about you, Yeongie…”

Something about your voice, the tone it suddenly took, made Yeong-bae’s cock twitch. They shifted in their seat on the hotel bed, hesitant expression on their face. They definitely didn’t want to pause it now.

“Miss the way you kiss me, baby. Ugh— And the way you feel around me— How you used to whine and rut your hips—”

Everything clicked now. In fact, as soon as Yeong-bae realized what you were doing, they heard the sound of you in the background.

It made them rock hard to think that you were talking about them, hand around your cock, jerking it hard enough for him to hear the wet squelch of the lube. Or were you fingering yourself? Were you stretching yourself open at the thought of them?

It was so unlike you to leave a voicemail like that but, maybe, the fact that it was so uncommon made it a lot more appealing to them.

Yeong-bae couldn’t stop themselves. After taking a quick glance at the hotel room door, they started taking off their jeans; not completely but just enough that they could fish their cock out. It was already aching and leaking pre-cum even though they’d barely touched it.

But, then again, you always had that effect on them.

“You’ll call me, right? Fuck, really wanna hear your voice. Wanna cum from just your voice.”

Yeong-bae didn’t even get any lube. They spat into their palm and before wrapping their fist around their cock. They didn’t want to miss a second of your voice, didn’t want to hear anything but the sound of you and your whimpering moans.

Hell, it really didn’t take long for them to cum. You kept whining about how he felt wrapped around your cock, how he’d clench and shake and make you cum inside them.

Just as they heard your grunting shout on the phone, their back bowed and they ended up cumming all over their own hand, splattering on their jeans and on the floor.

Their face felt hot, their body trembling and their breaths coming out in short spurts.

Fuck.

No matter how good it felt, though, Yeong-bae couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. They fell back onto their hotel bed, their fist still gripping the base of their cock.

Maybe they’d call you later, when they were a bit more put together.

soren kumar ★ profile

“Hi, Soren… It’s around midnight now and, according to the schedule you’ve sent me and the numerous texts you’ve blown up my phone with, your concert should be over…”

Soren cursed under his breath, his eyes immediately flickering to the digital clock on the nightstand beside him. It read 1:20am. So, it’s been an hour or so since your call.

“Usually, when your concert is over, you call me… But you haven’t called yet so I wanted to call you.”

That was probably why he’d been so pissy the last hour or so. Soren was an easily angered guy when his contact with you gets limited. Especially when he hasn’t had his special call with you the night before.

Being away on tour, not being able to see you and be with you, it took a toll on Soren that surprised him. He didn’t realise that falling in love with someone would be this painful, would be this taxing. Now, all he ever wanted to do was be by your side.

Unfortunately, he was a world renowned pop-star so that was impossible.

“I just— Miss you lots. You’ll call me when you get this voicemail right?”

Soren couldn’t help but feel a little smitten with you. You sounded so cute on the phone, so shy and sweet. He felt so bad for missing the usual time the two of you call each other.

He also felt a little worried just because you didn’t sound like your usual self. You didn’t mention feeling sick so he doubted it was that but, if not that, then what?

Soren paused your voicemail and immediately called you.

You answered the phone, all breathy and soft, sounding like you’d run a marathon “Soren?”

“Hello, sweetheart. What are you up to?” He asked but, just hearing you, he already knew. In fact, a smirk spread across his face as he started unbuttoning his jeans and shucking them to the floor.

“Just—” You let out a simpering sigh that made Soren’s cock harden “Just missing you.”

“Doesn’t sound like that’s all you’re up to…” Soren’s voice took on a more chastising tone as he leaned back against the headboard of his hotel bed and pulled out his aching cock “Why don’t you be honest with me, baby?”

A pathetic little whimper left your lips but, of course, you complied “Couldn’t wait for you. Had to… ugh, had to—”

“Be bad?” He supplied the words to you and, immediately, you let out a throaty little sound that made Soren laugh almost meanly.

“I should punish you for that, shouldn’t I?” Soren reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube, letting it dribble out onto his hard cock, part of him wishing and imagining it was your leaking pre-cum.

“Please, please, I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay, baby.” Soren’s tone went from mean to soothing as he put the bottle back and fisted his cock “I’ve decided, since I’m the one who was late, I won’t punish you, hmm?”

You let out a relieved sigh.

The sound made Soren want to bully you but the pop-star was a man of his word, no matter what. No punishments. But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun, right?

So, he pumped his cock, thinking of all the things he could do when he was so many miles away.

“But, in return, you’ll have to cum lots for me tonight, okay?” He finally decided and was further convinced he was right when you let out a whiny little protest.

“In fact, why don’t you cum now?” He smirked, gripping his cock a little tighter to prevent himself from cumming too early just at the thought of you “Why don’t you be my good little boy and pump that cock a little faster? Think about me, about how it feels to be inside me, huh, baby. Wouldn’t that feel so good?”

Your groaning hard cry through the phone was like music to his ears.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere #male yandere #male oc #nonbinary yandere #nonbinary oc #lemony content #drabbles #ryouta #yeongbae #soren

60 notes · View notes

holycryptid · 1 year

Text

Nightcrawler

Bruce Wayne/Batman x AFAB!reader (no pronouns/gendered language).

Explicit content (18+)

Word count: 6.3k

Tags/warnings: descriptions of blood/injury, angst, allusions to sex, groping/touching, descriptions of medical treatment (suturing), fingering/pussy play, explicit language, unrequited feelings (let me know if anything was missed!).

Summary: Bruce confronts his feelings after you put him back together. Again.

Notes: wrote this all the way back in 2020 right after the first trailer came out…found it sitting in my computer files and figured i shouldn’t let it go to waste! since it was written before the movie came out, please excuse/forgive any inaccuracies regarding the batsuit, terminology, setting, and characterization (and the painfully amateur writing) 😣

The cave is always a little too frigid for your liking.

Especially when it’s already well into the late hours of the night—a time you definitely shouldn’t be awake. The long fluorescents buzz and highlight the metallic sheen of everything, while still piercing through any inch of unguarded darkness in the gloomy room.

A light breeze swirls around your huddled figure every so often, and the rhythmic sound of water continuously dripping onto floor somewhere echoes throughout the quiet, isolated space. There’s still some changes and additions that need to be made to the current set-up he has, but it does the job for now. You don’t bother taking note of what needs to get done—you’ll probably forget it all an hour from now anyway.

You let your head roll back onto the chairs headrest, and your eyes skim over the time at the bottom of one of the monitors screens.

3:43am. It’s been almost four hours—you always wait.

You wait even though he tells you not to, and even though you know you maybe shouldn’t sometimes. But you can’t help it. It’s habit at this point. You’re down here at 10pm on the dot. Daily.

You don’t need to be, but you are; it’s tradition for you to be part of his prep and routine before the nightly endeavour out into Gotham, even if you just sit and watch as he slowly works his way into the suit piece-by-piece, fiddling with various tech accessories that you don’t even know the names of yet.

You try to pass the time by organizing and sorting his skewed files, papers, and small pieces of armour that have been damaged beyond repair—meticulously placing them in their rightful spots on the seemingly never-ending line of desktops, shelves, and hidden drawers.

But mindlessly arranging anything and everything only lasts for so long before there’s nothing left to do but sit. And think. And then sit some more.

Not knowing how long you’ll be rolling around in one of the padded office chairs for is one of the prices you have to pay for caring too much, and he reprimands you for it, even as you furiously dump an entire bottle of rubbing alcohol onto his body, and he never shows that it affects him in the least.

He’s stubborn. He’s stupid.

Your eyes wander along the blank stone walls as you slouch further into the chair, stopping when you see the time again: 3:47am.

You let out a heavy breath through your nose as you repeatedly click the tip of a pen in and out. You push yourself around in slow circles with the toe of your foot, letting the spinning room distract you for just a few moments just to pass another minute at least.

This isn’t necessarily part of your job. He knows that, and you definitely know that. A lot of things have changed with your workplace duties, clearly, as you notice some earlier pieces of his armour piled in one corner of the room.

Unsurprisingly, things have…happened here and there. It’s becoming a more common occurrence, but it feels circumstantial and…convenient. Maybe it’s all meant to happen at this point. You think about it often enough—too often. Enough to make things awkward for yourself sometimes.

Another anxious glance at the leering clock: 3:51am. “This is fucking ridiculous,” you reason with yourself, getting up from the chair and tossing the pen on the desk.

You resort to pacing around the grand floor space, now closely watching the entrance and exit as you circle by. All you can do is wait—

And just as you turn your back to the computer displays and monitors, the clocks turn to 3:59am.

You cut back sharply to begin another circle, and there he is. Four hours later. Alive.

The broad shadow makes your heart stop for a split second, but the only physical reaction you have is your knees locking, keeping you in place and giving you no choice but to stare at the familiar, broad outline of him.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Bruce.” It slips out, a little rushed and aggressive, but you mean it. He knows you well enough to not take any literal offence from it.

Your harsh acknowledgement prompts him to walk in further.

“Yeah, you said that last time,” he points out casually, sauntering into the blinding lights with calm steps, coming around to the front of the desks.

You observe his gait with a hard stare—you take notice of how he hesitantly bends and twists at the hip when he leans back to rest against the edge of the metal desk, rolling his head back until his neck pops with a relieved grunt.

He’s already got the cowl, cape, and gloves off, so whatever the problem is, it must be worse than what he’s playing off, as usual.

And then you see the issue. “Do you need help with that?” You point at his stomach and drop back into the chair, deflating with concern.

Your alert eyes study the suit, looking at the damage.

“With what?” he counters, seeming unaware—avoiding; yet his dark eyes confidently meet yours as he rests back on his hands, trying to find some comfort and seem unbothered by whatever desperately needs your attention underneath the sturdy armour.

A very thin layer of blood has seeped through a small displacement in the suits plating, soaking into the tri-weave fibers that cover the titanium. You roll your eyes and scoot back to a shelf where a med-kit sits, one that you put together specifically for nights like these, which is every night.

Positioning yourself back in front of him, the chair brings you to the perfect height to get a good look at the impairment. You can already tell it’s a knife wound just by the location. It’s at the perfect height. It cut perfectly in-between the overlapped layers of plating, perhaps the biggest flaw the suit has. You’re sure he’s aware of that now.

You inspect it briefly, tugging up on the bent piece slightly to see the amount of blood beneath. He takes a deep breath as the dense pressure is relieved from the tender area.

“Shit—” he breathes in relief. You’ve only heard that clipped tone slip out of his mouth on very few occasions, one of which was barely a week ago, yet you still tense at the vivid memory that you never really want to let go of.

He’s not one for reminiscing, but unfortunately, you are.

“It’ll only be a few stitches,” you say gently, letting the plate mold back into place softly. You tap the hard armour pointedly. “Take it off.”

You flick your eyes up to his—the black paint has smeared around just a bit more compared to when he smudged it on with no real technique earlier.

You’ll help him get it off later.

He brings a quick hand through his damp hair and starts unclipping the few clasps hidden on his shoulders and chest. One by one, the durable pieces are detached, and you carefully place them off to your right as he hands them over.

“Can you get the one in the back?” He motions over his shoulder. You nod and mumble a thoughtful ‘mhm’ as you both push yourself onto your feet again.

He turns his back to you, leaning forward on his palms and presenting the last clasp that sits in the middle of his spine. You know he can reach it, you’ve seen him do it before. You flick the clip, carefully pulling away the last plate. He physically relaxes his already tense muscles as soon as the extra weight is removed.

“I don’t know why you do this every night. It’s not worth it,” you confess while rummaging through the med-kit for a needle, surgical thread, topical antiseptic, a gauze pad, and a self-adherent bandage wrap to hopefully hold it all together.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment as you carefully lay out the supplies next to him on the desk.

“I have to…” he whispers, trailing off, but you catch it, shaking your head as you thread and ready the needle with severe concentration.

“Turn around, please.” He shifts back to where he originally was without a word, leaning back against the cool steel with hesitation once again.

You grab the bottle of antiseptic and apply a generous amount onto the pad, delicately holding it as you take a seat in front of him once again.

“Are you sure you wanna stand for this?” you grimace. The hot sting of a sterile compress isn’t the most enjoyable sensation to experience, especially while bearing weight.

He looks down at you, looking rather uninvolved with the priority. Dazed and distracted; something that could be mistaken for the potential amount blood loss, but the gash isn’t big enough for that possibility.

This is something you’ve seen more often than you’d like to.

“Just get it done,” he starts, “You know I can handle it.” He dismisses the option, letting his head roll back with a deep inhale as he waits for you to start.

You say nothing in return. Carefully balancing the compress in one hand, your other cautiously pinches the soft, spandex material of his base-layer shirt. It fits comfortably, hugging tightly around the curvature and muscle of his body, improving his movement in the suit.

The shirt is slowly pulled away from his stomach. The thick blood sticks around the tear in the fabric, making it peel away instead. You drag it halfway over the rest of his lower abdomen, pulling and letting it bunch up tightly, staying isolated from the torn skin below.

You stare at the ugly cut for barely a second before you quickly dab the antiseptic around, patting it into the irritated, puffy flesh and watching it fizzle with each pull back.

Sometimes, you feel like he likes the pain. Like he purposefully seeks out the discomfort of an incapacitating injury in hopes of suppressing the turmoil of concern…worry…love…

It gives him something else to focus on instead of the sorrowful emotions that avoiding you doesn’t seem to fix. It’s only been making it worse, and things are beyond saving now.

Your free hand gently rests against the burning skin of his waist, and his head drops forward at the surprising contact.

“Calm down. It keeps me steady,” you chuckle, shaking your head lightly.

He hums thoughtlessly in response, unconvinced with your excuse, maybe.

There’s that sudden anxious tension in the room from nothing but a fleeting graze of fingertips. The uncertainty of who’s going to make the first move this time.

You do one more press and then pull the soaked pad away, examining your progress before discarding the bloody material.

“It might only be four sutures or so,” you determine while gently squeezing the inflamed edges closer together to try and gauge the amount of work needed.

He inhales sharply, tightly gripping the rim of the desktop. “Well, the faster you stitch it, the faster I’ll be able to—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” You cut him off with a harsh but accidental hard squeeze of the torn flesh, making his words die in his throat with a groan.

That wasn’t something you really needed to hear right now, let alone think about as if he wasn’t just bleeding out in front of you only minutes ago.

You know how that sentence ends; you’ve heard him say it more times than you’d like to admit, but you can’t let him have his way tonight.

You glare at each other for a moment. Your eyes hold a tired frustration behind them, but his hold a different kind…something that is able to get you to do whatever he says, something that makes you giddy with anticipation, and something that makes you feel just a little more alienated afterwards.

“You can’t lie to yourself anymore,” he says instead.

You laugh coldly. “Well, neither can you. I’ve stopped doing that a long time ago. You should try it sometime,” you counter, snatching the threaded needle with anger while maintaining your unimpressed gaze.

He sighs, messing with his drying hair again as you begin suturing quickly—not so you can get to what he was alluding to, but the opposite.

For once, you don’t want that, and you don’t want the burden of sadness that comes with it.

But it’s so…tempting.

He gave himself away. You haven’t. And of course he’s leaning against the very spot you were pinned down against a week ago, feeling the contrast to the emotions you’re feeling now: excitement, passion, comfort, love—

It puts you into a conscious daydream for a moment. But you’re awoken from it when you feel his body jolt suddenly. You see the needle poking into the tough muscle of his side instead of the spongey cut.

“Shit— sorry,” you mumble, shifting your focus back to the final suture and looping it through itself securely in a rush.

Seven stitches in total, you notice. You were close.

You grab the bandage wrap and press it firmly over the closed wound before snaking it around his back. You’re able to get two layers from it; the pressure should stop any possible bleeding, but he always manages to tear it open anyway. Sometimes you think he does it on purpose just so he has a good excuse to see you.

“Done,” you sigh, packing up the med-kit and rolling back to its shelf.

You stand from the chair and go to make your way to the exit without another word, not interested in any other interaction tonight. Well, that’s what you hope for, but you’ve learned that he will never let you go peacefully.

You go to pass by him mindlessly as he’s carefully pulling his shirt back down, but he manages to grab ahold of your sleeve quickly when he sees your destination. The effortless pull makes you skid to a stop, twisting back towards him with your inverted momentum, almost smashing your face in his chest, but you stop yourself with your forearm.

He holds onto you tightly, with a purpose, as you share a moment of mutual hurt and resentment. His dark eyes, the opaque paint making them look just as black in the hazy lighting, search your conflicted ones desperately.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” he asks quietly. There’s no demand behind it, seemingly afraid it’ll scare you away.

His face softens, perhaps relief from asking. He’s never had to before.

You furrow your brows together in shock, dumbfounded at his apparent stupidity in this continuous situation. You scoff lightly at his rather domestic request. “Why? So we can just dance around the truth like always?” Your voice never raises in volume, but your tone gets harsher as you continue.

“So I can hope that maybe you’ll come to your senses and fucking realize that I lo—”

The hand he had wrapped around your arm moves to the back of your neck before you can even say the word or finish your passionate rant. He promptly pulls you right to him, his deft lips quickly doing the much-needed apologizing in that moment.

It’s feverish and assertive, seeming out of place in the cloud of desolation and melancholia…yet you don’t stop him. You don’t want to.

He knows you’ve needed this. Not the rushed, messy, convoluted kisses that come from your desperate fucking after a hard night or a close call, the ones that seem to happen almost by accident, by pure circumstance. There’s just always something missing…

Fervour. That’s what you feel now—that’s what you’ve wanted from him every single time he took control of you with ease for the night. You’re never able to make it back up to the manor either.

You shudder slightly when his hand moves to your jaw, gripping it firmly as he slides his mouth against yours consumingly, sucking your lips gently and teasing your tongue with his cautiously. You moan when he deepens the kiss further, letting his tongue fully overlap yours with a practiced versatility. It subdues you, inviting him to give and take as he pleases.

Several whimpers fall against his lips as you stretch onto your toes to meet his height as best as you can, trying to get more even though he’s already giving you plenty. It’s pensive. Each movement thought out and executed with a purpose, something that you can feel has a very clear destination in his mind.

You let him maintain authority, let him kiss you with a force that could bruise if he didn’t soothe the pressure with his soft tongue occasionally, dipping it back into your mouth quickly after. Your taste seems insatiable to his starved soul.

It all draws you in further, and your hands find themselves grasping at his shoulders instinctually when a forceful hand snakes through your hair to gain better control of you.

Your mouth feels a little numb and swollen from the welcome force, and he pulls away hesitantly when he feels your soft touch finally rest at his collar delicately. He barely lets more than an inch get between your lips, and you can feel the reluctancy in his movements as he pulls back.

You open your eyes slowly and see his sombre expression—more sombre than usual. The sorrow in his eyes and the agony on his brow is enough to force you to speak up first.

“I wish you told me months ago,” you whisper, lightly resting your forehead against his own as you wrap your arms around his neck, confident that he won’t pull away like he has before.

He looks longingly into your forgiving eyes, taking his hands and sliding them down to your hips in solace; an abrupt switch from from their dominant spot around your face. You understand the conflicts he has to live with. Most of them are caused by his vigilant habits in the night, yet you expected everything outside of that to still be easy for him.

Unfortunately, trauma picks and chooses its victims at random.

You find yourself looking for words. Maybe for the moment you realized he was different, when he changed.

“I wish it wasn’t so hard for you, Bruce.” You try to comfort him, provide some ease for his always anxious mind.

He squeezes your hip, silently reassuring you that it’ll be fine, that it won’t kill him.

“I wish it wasn’t so hard for you,” he retorts in an indignant tone, irritated with himself.

He regrets all of it. Most of all, he regrets making you feel unloved. The nights where he used you as a release, when he would act like nothing happened, when he would unconsciously ignore you, and when he ultimately closed himself off in the end.

“It wasn’t fair. It was…selfish,” he finishes forcefully, taking a quick breath to regain some composure.

“I just don’t want you to be part of that life,” he admits tentatively.

You can see he’s telling the truth. The way he doesn’t meet your gaze again. He does it to avoid the confrontation that comes with honesty.

You pause to take in his confession, closing your eyes for a moment with relief, but his tone is like a bullet to the heart. The dejected feeling of you possibly not wanting to be here with him in this moment.

“‘That life’?…You mean your life?” you reason, sounding surprised with his absurd claim.

You’d think that having done this religiously with him for a year would make him think otherwise, regardless of your acts together. You always showed up no matter the circumstances or emotions.

He pushes against your hips lightly, making some space between your bodies, and you shuffle back without hesitation. You let your arms fall away from his shoulders, and he does the same as you distance yourself.

“My life is your life,” he explains. “What happens to me affects you, why can’t you see that?” His face falls slightly. The realization of you not knowing you’re significant enough to be considered part of his life is…heartbreaking.

There’s so much you could say to that.

You let the silence linger briefly. “Maybe I’d be able to see that if you weren’t afraid to be in the same room as me,” you say, voice quiet as you test your reasoning.

You don’t want to start a fight. You just want to understand. You want to know why.

You notice how he hesitates when around you, and not in a flattering or complimentary way. It’s avoidant, scared, and even worried. Worry of confrontation.

He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around his stomach in comfort, carefully avoiding the fresh bandage.

“I…I’m not…scared. I’m—” Batman doesn’t get scared from feelings, but maybe Bruce Wayne does.

“You’re unsure,” you finish for him. His eyes meet yours with a sense of hope that you’re understanding.

“I just…don’t know how to go about…all of this,” he motions between you with a flick of his hand.

All of this…meaning—

“Love?” you try, making it more of a rhetorical question.

He presses his lips together in surprise before offering a firm nod. He doesn’t trust himself to say it. It’s hard to wrap your head around. It couldn’t just be that, it had to be something more problematic? Complicated?

But yet, it all makes sense because he’s him—he doesn’t necessarily do romance; there’s no time. You know that. You’ve seen how he is, nothing but a fleeting moment in the night to most, even to you.

It all clicks, and you rub your face in relief and exasperation. You can’t blame him for it all. You can for some, of course, but a relationship needs communication from both. It can’t be a one-person effort, but that’s what it ended up being.

He was just trying to protect you. That’s all someone can really ask for, but the execution wasn’t right. He abandoned you emotionally to protect you physically, and that’s not the right balance.

“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth at the beginning? So I wouldn’t spend all this time thinking I was doing something wrong,” you pleaded, stepping closer to him again to pull an answer from his huddled form.

The closer you get, the higher you have to tilt your head to hold his gaze.

He looks right back, overwhelmed. “I didn’t know how to say it…I didn’t know if you felt that way. When I realized you did, I thought it was just…too late,” he admits, stuttering briefly at the end.

It was clearly hard for him, too. But was it not apparent that you were waiting? For him. For anything.

You look down, nodding your head in understanding. “I don’t think I could’ve made it any more obvious, but lust can be confused for love, so I understand.” You were serious, but some sarcasm slipped through at the end.

Lust is deadly; it will bait you, hook you, and then drag you under it’s pleasurable and irresistible cloud of euphoria, disguised as the domineering man in front of you.

“At least you know now,” he says, matching your tone.

He straightens his posture and locks his cold stare onto yours momentarily, searching for something he still can’t seem to find.

Giving up, he turns to collect each piece of armour you set aside, and he busy’s himself with meticulously putting it back in its rightful spot for tomorrow.

You watch him with surprise, but there’s no anger at his dismissal. You feel relieved. Relieved that you know. You don’t expect things to be normal right away, not with him.

You know he’ll come around, but you can’t help but ask a prying question just to entertain your already validated thoughts. And to keep him talking. There’s still so much you want to know.

“So…” you start lightly. “You said you weren’t sure if I was interested at the beginning,” you say carefully.

He stops moving the instant he hears the curiosity in your tone. He turns back to you slowly, an amused expression on his face. Shit—

You hesitate when you catch his look, but continue cooly. “So, if you didn’t know…then why did you keep, uh…” You lose your words, too afraid to be so blunt and direct about your past endeavours.

It seems taboo to discuss it while not in the moment itself. Sometimes you wonder if it’s just a dream. Too good to be true.

He raises his brows knowingly as you trail off, entertained with your hesitation and embarrassment.

“Why did you— why did we continue…”

“Fucking?” he finishes for you bluntly, a small smile playing on his lips, yet it’s devoid of genuine humour. It screams danger.

He chuckles when you nod your head wordlessly. “Like you said, lust is confusing. You can never seem to get enough, and I don’t think I wanted to.” He pulls the sleeves of his tight-fitting shirt over his forearms, watching you carefully as you consider his words.

His tone was suddenly light, confident. He could feel that you were walking the fine line of giving in or leaving without another word.

“I’m not trying to persuade you into doing anything, if that’s what you’re thinking about,” he clarifies softly when he sees your eyes dance across the floor rapidly.

You laugh lightly, glancing at him reluctantly. “I’m not, but you wouldn’t have to, anyway,”

That makes him narrow his gaze in question.

You raise a brow in response. “What?”

He glances over his shoulder at a monitor, very obviously reading the time: 4:29am.

And you realize exactly what he’s doing. Why would time matter unless you were to suddenly become busy. Tonight was on the shorter end of time spent putting him back together, and you never fall asleep quickly or peacefully anyway…that’s if you were to attempt it or even make it that far.

You watch him speculatively, still mindful that he’s injured, and probably very, very sleep deprived at this point, even though you can never say for sure.

He doesn’t sleep much. You seem to be his biggest distraction.

He twists a dry strand of hair between his fingers as it’s brushed back from his face, black eyes full of self-assurance as he turns to you for what will be the last time tonight.

“You think we can make it back to the manor?” His relaxed yet serious tone startles you, making you consider the options quickly.

Hard and cold floor, small and cold desktop, small rolling chair—none are ideal, but you’ve made all work before…when he didn’t offer another option, mind you. It was never momentous enough to have taken place outside of the cave. But the manor is…farther. There’s a buffer you don’t think will be beneficial.

Who fucking cares—

“Here seems to work just fine,” you quip nervously. You haven’t taken notice of how your legs have gotten…shaky.

There’s a burning heat between your thighs, an ache that blazes bright from anticipation and just him. Just knowing what’s to come. It feels like you’ve done everything imaginable at this point, but that doesn’t lessen your excitement.

He gives a small smirk that fades just as fast. “Figured you’d say that,” he finalizes.

Stepping back to you with graceful movements, you’re chest-to-chest again in an instant. He glides a delicate finger up your neck, hooking it under your chin and tilting your gaze to his intimidating one.

“Tell me what you want.”

You desperately want to say ‘anything’, but you know he won’t settle for that.

You get lost in your thoughts, thinking of the possibilities you can choose from, and he waits for your answer patiently.

“A week ago…when you came back with a torn rotator cuff in y-your shoulder—” you stumble through the sentence but never break from his studious eyes.

“You, uh, didn’t pay any mind to it even though you definitely should’ve, and you had me down against the desk,” your voice turns to a whisper as you recount the events—as vague as possible to save you the embarrassment of being too vulgar in, perhaps, an irreplaceable moment.

As soon as you finish, you swear you see a flame flicker in his eyes. The same one you feel grow stronger in your cunt at the same time. Your knees almost buckle from anticipation, and he can only make it worse from here.

“That’s…a good choice, even though it was kind of impersonal,” he ponders, clearly running through the events of that night.

He’s not wrong. He kept your chest pinned tightly to the surface of the frigid desk, taking you from behind. No hand-holding, no kissing, no eye-contact, no nothing.

You went on to figure that it was better—easier for him that way. You never seemed to mind anyway.

“That’s nothing I can’t fix,” he mutters, finishing the thought; already set on an alternative for both of you.

Your brows pinch together, curious of what he means exactly. But you don’t have much time to think about it.

His hands quickly curve around your jaw, keeping you still as he swiftly interlocks your deprived lips again. It’s zealous and luring, pulling you even further under the crashing wave of temptation and craving.

The soft joining of your mouths makes your stomach jump with exhilaration and eagerness, clawing your hands into his hair with a gasp of bliss as he grabs your waist just as hard in response. You let out a soft sigh of relief, feeling brave enough to gently bite at his bottom lip as his warm, encompassing hands slide under your shirt.

He barely lets you break for air, delving back into your mouth just as fast as he left it to reposition. The intensity of the heavenly moment builds its tempo, and you find yourself pushing against his chest. Not to pull away, but to try and push him towards the cold, awaiting desk behind his wide shoulders.

You manage to get a single word out in between the consuming and now sloppy kisses he offers. “Bruce—”

He hums contently as he swallows your thoughts, connecting your tingling lips forcibly. He’s too fixated on the passion. He wants it to last forever, but there are more demanding impulses that will be tended to first.

“Bruce,” you gasp when you break apart again reluctantly. He notices the calm assertion in your voice, and only slows the onslaught of kisses enough to reply.

“I know,” he soothes your neediness, now delicately pressing his greedy lips to yours repeatedly in understanding. The heartfelt action controlled by nothing but spirited lust.

His hands glide back up to your jaw, cradling your face in comfort as you twirl the long strands of hair at his neck between your fingers. Heavy breaths cloud your already tangled thoughts, leaving him to take the lead again.

He gives you one last intense taste of him, stroking his tongue teasingly over yours, firmly capturing your lips together in the process with a pleased moan. You’re almost chest-to-chest, a minute sliver of space keeping your bodies just distanced enough to not completely lose what little control both of you have left.

He’s taken note of how tight your thighs have been pressed together, and how your breaths are becoming shaky with each passing second he uses to dominate your mouth.

You’ve taken note of how his tactical pants, in fact, can’t hide his very prominent arousal for you, and how you can feel the warmth finally releasing from his exerted and thoroughly worked muscles. The heat seeps through his shirt and goes directly to your body, making you shudder when you feel the change in temperature.

You draw in a breath when he finally pulls away. His obsidian eyes wild with excitement and dominion. You’ve seen this look a lot, and you’re ready to hop on the desk without another word.

He floats his eyes down your body observationally, but you don’t notice. All of this is a lot slower than you’re used to. Well-paced. If it were any other night, you’d be on round two by now at least. You’d be whining with pleasure, shaking from release and overstimulation, dripping around his cock as he buries himself as deep as your cunt will allow, over and over until he simply feels better.

He was always generous with what he gave you.

You press a hand against his chest again, and he moves this time. Taking a long stride back, he tries to conceal an amused smile as you push him toward the desk. Your eyes light up when you see the knowing and teasing look on his face.

A quiet laugh rumbles against your hand. “This isn’t how it usually goes…” He smiles lightly.

You smile with him. “I never said it’s gonna stay this way,” you challenge, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

You never take charge. You never dominate. He’s more well-versed with it, and you won’t dare to try to match his competence.

The backs of his thighs bump the rounded edge of the desk, and your stomach jumps with elation when his index finger instantly hooks into the waistband of your pants, pulling you just a little closer.

But he leaves it there. He slides it side-to-side along the hem, gently caressing the sensitive skin of your lower stomach playfully. You look into his eyes as he casually continues the slow motions.

Your eyes flick down to his hand instinctually, out of pure reflex, and you watch his finger disappear further as he smoothly twists his wrist, palm resting against your lower stomach momentarily before his shoulder shifts too…angling his hand to travel down.

His fingers graze lower, creeping to a spot that so easily welcomes him.

One of your hands grabs onto his shoulder, simultaneously steadying yourself with a gasp as you bring your faces closer again. He gives a fleeting, comforting kiss, not leaving much behind.

His towering height makes it easier for his hand to reach its destination all too quickly. And when a careful and precise finger slips in-between your folds, your eyes close in anticipation and with the thought of relief.

Your minor reaction makes him smirk. Thankfully, for him, you don’t see it.

It’s sad just how wet you already are, but it spurs him on. He let’s his fingers explore, alternating between rubbing you and slipping a single digit inside, only doing so to gather your arousal to rub across your clit smoothly.

A quiet moan gets caught in your throat as he repeats that process a few times, building you up and teasing you onto the edge continuously.

“Mm— please, f-fuck—” you whimper, fisting the shirt in your grip on his shoulder.

You don’t need to finish that sentence for him to know exactly what you mean. He needs it, too. His tactical pants have become increasingly uncomfortable.

Your plea makes him apply more pressure to the slow strokes he gives your throbbing cunt. You all but drip onto the two fingers that glide over your aching clit and back to your slick entrance, occasionally giving you what you want.

He pulls them slowly in and out of you, making sure you feel them nice and deep before he drags them against something that makes you pant with desperation. Your eyes remain shut, brows pulled together tightly as you focus on the sensation of his intent touches, but he watches your face appreciatively, analyzing your pleasure with each movement he makes.

A particularly harder jolt of his fingers up into you makes you choke, caught between a gasp and a whiny moan. That makes his eyes drop to where his hand disappears.

He hums in satisfaction. “Is that the spot?” he questions with a mocking tone, knowing full well what the answer would be. “I think it is…”

You nod your head quickly, eyes reopening ever so slowly to meet his.

His eyes are full with devilish aspirations, and your knees almost give out when he roughly thrusts his fingers back in again for a final time. You let out a small cry of bliss and dissatisfaction when he slips them out of you, wiping them off on his pants carelessly.

You were decently wet before, and you are definitely abundantly wet now.

“I think you need to lie down.” He sounds concerned, but you know it’s just for show to make your heart pound harder.

He takes your hand from his shoulder, holding it securely as he shuffles your bodies around, putting you in his place and himself in yours. Now your thighs rest against the desk, and he crowds you against it.

“Lift your arms,” he says cooly, observing your dazed expression with care.

You raise them, and he pinches the hem of your shirt, delicately dragging it up your torso and over your head with caution. He tosses it on the chair off to the side.

Your eyes catch the mangled slash at the bottom of his shirt again, and you quickly reach for the thin material.

He doesn’t question your intentions, letting you maneuver the thin fabric over the bandage, his chest, and extend onto your toes to pull it over his shoulders. He peels it from his arms, and your hands can’t help but wander across the firm muscles that stretch around his entire body.

The power he holds within him—the Batman—is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen. It was terrifying. It was unbelievable, the things you’ve seen his body do. And he would continue to push his limits.