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#so my life once again has no meaning LMAO
sceletaflores · 2 days
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•。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!
thanks for the tag angel baby @guiltyasdave <3 • 18+ under the cut! MDNI!
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wip #1 • far too familiar a stranger…feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)
a long time ago, logan howlett knew a woman with your face…
i couldn’t not write a ‘worst!logan coming face to face with his tragically dead love interest but from wade’s universe after wade forced her to help them stop the TVA and hating her for bringing up that time in his life until he doesn’t anymore’ fic.
it's crimson because i felt that making whole new mutant reader would be sort of confusing so this fic is in the to the bone universe but it's not the same timeline...if that makes sense lmao
Wade Wilson is the worst neighbor in the entire fucking world. It’s really something you should have known sooner, like ‘the very first day in your new place ending with him breaking in through your window fully suited up after counting the floors wrong and bleeding all over your brand new pottery barn throw rug because he was still a little too concussed to walk’ sooner. Even after that whole fiasco left you with a broken window latch and a beyond fucked non-refundable $80 carpet, you still let yourself entertain his crazy. Just like everyone else whose life Wade crashed into, both physically or metaphorically. And once he's in, you can never really get him back out again. So yeah, maybe this whole thing is your fault. Maybe getting thrown into a barren, dusty void with two somewhat failed X-Men is just all your bad karma manifesting in one huge finger from the universe.
wip #2 • red and yellow kill a fellow! feat. logan howlett & wade wilson
logan doesn’t appreciate you letting wade get one up on him…
finally finally finally getting off my ass and writing logan x reader x wade! i was inspired by this one episode of satc (which is like my favorite show ever bee tee dubs) where charlotte goes out with two guys at the same time and she has sex with one but not the other until one of them catches her with the other guy and they all break it off.
my vision is a little different cause instead of getting mad and leaving when logan finds out reader fucked wade and not him, he figures it's his turn to get even. aka wade in the cuck chair and loving it.
The three of you pass a BMW sitting in a no parking zone, all four windows rolled down as Madonna blasts through the speakers. "So," Wade says, voice breaking the silence for the first time in five minutes. "Who white-washed your guts better?" You nearly trip over your own feet, whipping your head to gape at Wade. "Fucking excuse me?" "You know," Wade shrugs, like it's a perfectly normal thing to ask. The leisurely pace of his stroll not slowing, his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. "Who carved the lyrical railway better?" He just keeps going as you stare at him with a repulsed look on your face. "The number one stud that's stuffin' your muffin? That's takin the ol' bald-headed gnome for a satisfying stroll in the misty forest. Pick one hot stuff, they all mean the same thing." Before you can even answer there's a rough, questioning grunt from your right and your stomach flips. Oh. Logan, he was still here too. Still here and right next to you, listening. Oh yeah. "You fucked?" You still haven't slept with Logan yet. You turn to him face slowly, eyes a hair wide as you take in the sharp raise of his brow. "Um..." "Whoops," Wade snorts from somewhere behind your shoulder. "Cat's out the bag."
wip #3 • it's the easiest thing (just love me and eat me) feat. logan howlett
it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…
the same requested sub!logan fic from last wednesday just with a new name and weirder energy! like this has really gotten away from me and turned into something that i can't really explain well enough to make it sound like chill...
lots of religious imagery and symbolism...and some metaphors of cannibalism...idk i'm just a girl with religious trauma and a weird blood fetish sue me.
You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church. The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of it like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship. Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion. The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips. His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin. The sound of your name pulled from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered. You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.
kisses!
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no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing @superhoeva
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izzyspussy · 2 days
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anyway so seasons 1-early 3 mickey is a pessimist with a dash of nihilist (miserable), and because of that ian looks like an optimist verging on idealist to him.
the fact of the matter is that ian is not an optimist and he certainly is not an idealist. he's a little naive, sure, but less than what would be appropriate for his age. he's also not a pessimist or a nihilist (either kind). or a realist or a pragmatist or any of those.
no, ian is quite simply. unfathomably stubborn. and that is all.
he'll get into west point. he's absolutely certain of this. why? because he fucking said so.
he'll have a real relationship with mickey. they are in love and they are going to be together. this is true. how does he know? because. he. fucking. said so.
he doesn't have hope. he doesn't want things. that's pussy shit. there are precisely three types of things in this world: things ian isn't interested in, things ian already has, and things ian will have. that is simply that!
(which is obviously its own very specific mindset and is at least as extreme as pure optimism and pure pessimism, and is almost certainly just another fun little factor when the force of his will alone is not enough to change the reality of an ongoing traumatic event that contributes to the somewhat early onset of his bipolar disorder. but that's tangential.)
now. once again, disclaimer, these characters cease to exist past early season 5 for me, so there's every chance this next bit is exclusive to MY mickey and ian. there's just no way to know ❤️
that said. ian matures into a nihilist (carefree) - and i would say he's here-ish already in season 4, but in a maladaptive way at that stage - and then eventually matures further into a nihilistic (carefree)-leaning pragmatist.
mickey on the other hand - after a period of having no particular mindset of this type of thing at all which in effect amounts to a months-to-a-year long panic attack where his every action is fueled by emotional desperation and he has no solid concept of his own wants, needs, values, or future beyond the ever-present but totally incoherent certainty that he can't live without ian but ian can and will leave him with ease for even the slightest infraction or failure that terrorizes him like a weasel terrorizes a hen in his every waking moment - um. what was i saying.
oh right. mickey on the other hand, after All That, matures first into a sort of quiet idealism (kind of a pendulum swing maybe, but not quite not also progress, iygiygi), and then. into a less naive version of the old ian's way lmao.
there is no "that's how things are/go" or "that's how the world works" or "life is/isn't fair" or any fundamental human nature or any purpose or lack thereof to life or possible and impossible or likely and unlikely or anything else along any of those lines. there are only two types of things in the world: things that don't matter and mickey's next achievement. and that's that, baby!
and then eventually, mick finishes out at a relatively stable and sustainable realist-leaning optimism, heavily informed by romanticism of the Certain Things Are Meant To Be kind. like, he wouldn't necessarily express that or think of it in those terms. and he doesn't think it's a common thing, in fact it's rare and special and he's very lucky, and even if something is like that it still doesn't mean you don't have to put the work in for it to go well and end up Right. and he doesn't believe in a higher power or in Fate quite as such or in the will of the universe or a cosmic balance or anything like that really.
it's just, you know. sometimes. every now and then. there's just this one little thing that will continuously keep trying to happen without any heed to sense or logic or the incredible odds against it. just something in particular that will forever and always find a way to happen.
like say. for example. there's this gay kid, right? and he gets in this fight and he wins and he's about to bring down a tire iron and ruin this other idiot's pretty face and - for no discernible reason whatsoever - he just... doesn't. and maybe he'll think about it half a dozen years later and wonder why. that one tiny little thing that changed his whole fucking life, why did he do that? what was the reason? and there just. isn't one.
and that's not even all. see, these two dumbasses have no idea the other one is gay too, but some-fucking-how they don't have to say a word or even make any opening moves to just Know they want each other. it's like they read each other's fucking minds, even though he knows, he remembers, he didn't sense anything from ian. but for Some Fucking Reason he just never for a second considered ian wouldn't want him, and ian was in perfect time with him. and maybe he'll think back and try to find an explanation for this part too. was there some body language he read? was there some look in ian's eyes? but the answer is no every time.
and then after that, these two gay kids just can't be kept apart. they just can't. and it's not just that they inexplicably can't resist each other either. every time they're separated they find each other again, no matter what. even when they're the ones to separate themselves, situation after coincidence after happenstance after necessity keeps putting them in each other's orbits. secrecy and jealous exes and gun violence and imprisonment and infidelity and a fucking pathological fear of intimacy and conversion therapy and genuine threat to their lives and marriage to someone else and permanent life-altering illness can't break them up. at least not for long.
and then. somehow. SOME fucking how! after all that, and with the absolutely shit chances that they ever even hooked up in the first place, they actually fucking make it? they don't just get to be together, they get to be happy??
so no, he doesn't believe in god or destiny or soulmates or whatever the fuck. but at the same time, i mean. what other explanation is there?
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daily-lightbulbii · 3 months
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(//i don't normally do text but cw in the tags erm. i went a little off track)
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ya-gurl-emily · 4 months
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The awesome thing about college is that being there is miserable, and not being there is worse.
Nifty!
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tobisaw · 10 months
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IM BACK HERE AGAIN. YOUR HLVRAI DESIGNS GIVE ME LIFE<3.... (I also love the colors you use, excuse me I'm autistic about designs)
AGHHHH THIS IS SO SWEET THANK YOU… I’m happy so many people like my designs. It seriously means a lot this made my day
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haarute · 1 year
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reading posts about people noticing things that you do being its own form of love, and then thinking that the thought of being perceived at all is actually terrifying to me because i cannot imagine a situation where that wouldn't be a criticism of my person. and the realization that this is not supposed to be the case is wild to me lmao.
#for context: i just saw a post that was about someone singing again while cooking after a period of depression#and their roommate being glad that there's singing once again and the place isn't silent anymore. and how this is a sign of people caring.#people enjoying your presence.#but i would feel HORRIFIED if someone told that to me.#because it is impossible for me to think that isn't a negative comment.#not necessarily because i think the other person would be mean-spirited. but because i genuinely don't see a lot of good in myself.#and i cannot possibly believe anyone would think things about me in a positive light because negatives are all that there is to think about#it's just a fact of life that i am annoying or whatever. none of us should make a big deal out of it. just leave me alone please.#this is also why i don't really take compliments. i am Averse to people who keep complimenting me.#i've been flirted on by excessive compliments and i'm like lmao you're only distancing yourself from your goal further and further#but like. i am learning that while this is such an ingrained part of my being since i was a child#maybe it's not normal to feel this way Actually.#you know i keep saying my sister has done irreparable damage to my psyche but the more i think about it the more true it becomes lmao#not that she's at fault alone. but like. she's probably the biggest offender.#anyway. there's a lot of things fundamental to my person that i'm starting to question only recently#and i don't know if there's any fixing other than like. forcibly removing all of the parts that i don't like.#because i don't think there's any convincing for me. i am pretty stubborn after all.#so we'll see how this develops. bleh.
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queenerdloser · 6 months
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every once in a while im like. hm. maybe i SHOULD actually attempt to Style My Hair instead of my usual tried and true method (brush it and hope for the best, rawdogging through life without a single hair product in there except the dry shampoo that allows me to hide my greasiness from the world). so im like okay i'll attempt a Hair Product and see how it goes. and much like every other single time ive tried it my hair immediately loathes the product and looks 10000x worse so in the end i just give up and go back to my messy bedhead ways. this is why i cant be trusted with long hair, i would be letting that shit figure itself out every single day of my life.
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jensthwa · 2 months
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show & tell (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends to ?
WORD COUNT: 8k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.
NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 18th 2024.
masterlist. / part two.
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“Delete her number right now!” 
“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…” 
“And over text too? Wow.” 
“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.” 
Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing. 
Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused. 
You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news. 
He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi. 
Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another. 
But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine. 
“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.
“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.” 
“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.” 
“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you. 
Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.” 
“So you do know?” 
“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.
“Huh?” 
“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.” 
Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing. 
You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue. 
So you take mercy on him. 
“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever. 
“You truly are amazing.” 
Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.” 
“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit. 
“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days. 
This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm. 
“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?” 
“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”
You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss. 
When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him. 
Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi. 
His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing. 
You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings. 
Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken. 
Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year. 
You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment. 
Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time. 
In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well. 
He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed. 
That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind. 
One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.
He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head. 
“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.” 
He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”
You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way bsck in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would csll you love because that's what good boyfriend's do. 
Turns out, you weren't exactly his friends type. Neither were the other girls in your school. 
“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.” 
“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way. 
And in the solitude of your room, you wait. 
You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring. 
Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end. 
“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you. 
“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.” 
“How do you do it?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?” 
Oh. 
Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him. 
It caughts off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.” 
“You have such a way with words, though.” 
You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.” 
“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.” 
“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.” 
“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…” 
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?” 
“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.” 
“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.” 
“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later. 
“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.” 
“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again. 
“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff. 
You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life. 
Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do. 
“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed. 
Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.” 
You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.” 
“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.” 
His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—” 
“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.” 
“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.” 
“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see. 
“Are you writing this down?!” 
“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!” 
“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—” 
“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.” 
You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you. 
Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot. 
Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass. 
“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.” 
“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.” 
You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pijamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what were you telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door. 
“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest. 
He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”  
When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight. 
Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you. 
“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share. 
God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane. 
You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime. 
“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.” 
“Company dinner.” 
“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird. 
You gulp. 
“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.” 
You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.” 
“You sound like you're reading a text book.” He confesses with a laugh. 
“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.” 
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return. 
“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else. 
He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?” 
“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.” 
Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes. 
“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.” 
“Front wall?” 
“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.” 
“O… kay.” 
“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot. 
The AC’s on, right? 
Fuck. 
“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed. 
Mingi clears his throat a second later. 
“So it feels hard to the touch or…” 
“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.” 
He laughs “What?” 
“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.” 
“You didn't drink enough water?” 
“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice. 
Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that? 
“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?” 
“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.” 
“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?” 
“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”
What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure. 
Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next? 
“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.” 
“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!” 
“Sorry!” 
“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.” 
That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself. 
In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality. 
When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers. 
“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line. 
A bit passes. 
And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face. 
So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it. 
“Then show me.” 
You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry. 
It just never affected you this way. 
“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on. 
“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.” 
“Mingi!” 
“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.” 
“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up. 
“San's ex?!” 
“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!” 
He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything. 
“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”
There it is. 
You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest. 
So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request. 
“I've never done it in front of anyone before.” 
“So no one has ever make you—” 
“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—” 
“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you. 
“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me on this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper. 
“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.” 
That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment. 
Fuck it. 
“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down. 
Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.” 
You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy. 
You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed. 
You're so wet. 
And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.
Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.
And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake. 
“These will do?” 
You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him. 
“Yep.” 
You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection. 
“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?” 
“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you. 
“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?” 
“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?” 
“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?” 
“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…” 
You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind. 
And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.
Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.
Oh God, you want to kiss him. 
His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?” 
Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.” 
You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch. 
“How do you like being kissed?” 
You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours. 
It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would. 
Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair. 
His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before. 
That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn. 
Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again. 
The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt. 
You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?” 
Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant. 
Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it. 
Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.” 
You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him. 
You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should. 
There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them. 
And he notices it too. 
“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.” 
You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.” 
Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw. 
“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…” 
Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…” 
“Am I wrong?” 
You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again. 
“Of course I'm not.” 
You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most. 
“Can I take this off?” 
“Fuck, y-yes.” 
Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere. 
“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with you hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.” 
He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well. 
But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed. 
“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.” 
“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?” 
“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.” 
“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.” 
“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well. 
The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't. 
“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.” 
You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?” 
He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better. 
You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling. 
You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck. 
You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well. 
“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.” 
“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.” 
“Y-you do?” 
“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself. 
“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your index makes its way into your cavity without much effort. 
Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.
“And then, two fingers.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even noticed before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?” 
He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied. 
Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to. 
And it's all because of him. 
You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and… 
He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight. 
You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.
But Mingi is not just any man. 
“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.” 
“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—” 
“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.” 
His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out. 
“Prove that bitch wrong.” 
That seems to do it. 
His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected. 
Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him. 
His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise. 
“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you. 
Fuck. 
It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it. 
“That feels so good…” 
“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips. 
You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.” 
The worries die altogether with that. 
And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop. 
It's not long before his index joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort. 
His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement. 
“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.” 
He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.
“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?” 
Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!” 
He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing. 
You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit. 
When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do. 
A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing. 
Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did. 
That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life. 
And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it. 
Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression. 
It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride. 
You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago. 
“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.” 
And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him. 
But you don't mind it one bit. 
You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace. 
This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you. 
“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality. 
Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings. 
“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.” 
The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own. 
Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock. 
Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours. 
“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N” 
“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…” 
“Fuck, don't beg me, love.” 
“Don't make me beg, then.” 
What the fuck are you even doing? 
“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why. 
But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through. 
He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes. 
“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now. 
“Bathroom. Now.” 
You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.
Don't get caught. 
Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens. 
When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle. 
“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!” 
“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.
You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that. 
“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..” 
“You think?” cocking your head to side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point. 
He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now. 
You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway. 
“Okay, we're safe now.” 
“When were we ever not safe?” 
“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!” 
He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back. 
You clear your throat. 
“I really did want to help you out but—” 
“Raincheck?” he asks and at you hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
He smiles again “Good, uh…” 
Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here. 
Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. 
“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper. 
“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone. 
That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner. 
“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.” 
Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him. 
It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much. 
It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic. 
“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod. 
“See you tomorrow.” 
And with that, he leaves. 
You lock the door and practically run to your room after. 
What the fuck have you done?
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part! 
© jensthwa, 2024.
3K notes · View notes
acid-ixx · 26 days
Note
You mention in the first story that the Batfam finally realizes where we are because jon showed Damian our picture while calling us his parent- so I was wondering about how Damian reacted to that? Like did he realize we’d left at that point or did he just get hit in the face with that info?
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— related post !
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated
a/n: y'all i have clogged nose and i hate it LMAO. anyways, i'm gonna write smth about this soon but damian's character for both the series again & again and this series is genuinely one of the more complicated to write because of how he's raised but it really goes like this—
"jon... what do you mean? that's my—"
he cuts himself off before he could continue running his mouth off. damian ignores the slight raise of jon's eyebrow, his thoughts running a mile every second.
his parent? no, never once in his life has damian considered you his parent, pushing you away whenever you try to bond with him. whatever gifts you gave him, no matter how small, or big, expensive, or inexpensive they are, he always makes a show of ripping them away right in front of you.
he told you himself. you are not his parent, never will be his parent, you'll never replace talia's standing, and there will never be a time where damian will see you as one. dick, jason, tim, literally anyone can consider you as theirs, but damian is a product of two genetically perfect individuals— you are imperfect, and it's not your business to coddle him just because you are merely married to his father in paper.
no matter how much you softly gaze at him with loving eyes, invite him with welcoming arms, praise his passion for drawing; all you'll do is weaken him and damian hates feeling weak, hates how you tempt him into melting into a puddle. that automatically makes you a burden in his book.
he hates you, and he should've been glad you disappeared off of the face of the manor.
yet the record stands still: why are you with jon? why do you hold him like he is the world in the picture? what does he mean by "sorry, damian, but me and my parents are gonna go to the carnival later!"? you, as in, bruce's spouse? why are you with them, of all people?
... why does jon get to have fun, with you? and he doesn't...?
and yet he couldn't reply to him, not when his friend babbles on for longer about his... parent. about how you, make him feel so complete. that you'll be the one helping him with his science fare project, how you two spent the night yesterday building a volcano, how you treat him with ice cream every time he achieves a good enough grade for a subject, how you, you, you always spoil jon, always comfort him, read him bedtime stories, matched bracelets, sung karaoke together, played board games with each other, picked him up from school, help him with assignments—
the more jon goes on, the more damian wants to rip his hair out. he doesn't know, doesn't know why he's suddenly pissed. is it because jon can never shut up, or because he couldn't shut up about you? about how perfect you are apparently? how you're the ideal parent he never once bat an eye on? the domestic life jon seems to brag about, it's something damian secretly wanted, and it's all ripped away from him.
it makes damian wonder, would you have done the same for him?
he knows it in himself, that if he hadn't pushed you away, he might've been in jon's place.
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1K notes · View notes
sceletaflores · 2 months
Text
where there’s sparks, there’s fire!
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pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader
summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.
—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.
word count: 4.6k
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.
author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.
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Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.
Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.
You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.
It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.
Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.
Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 
You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.
You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.
He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 
“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.
You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.
Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 
You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 
You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.
Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 
Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”
You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 
You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.
Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 
Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”
You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 
His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.
Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.
"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."
You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.
Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 
You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.
You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 
Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.
His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."
Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."
His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.
It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 
You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.
“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.
Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.
You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 
Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 
He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”
You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 
Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 
You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.
Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”
You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 
Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.
He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 
You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.
He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 
It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.
The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.
“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.
Yeah fucking right.
“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”
Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”
You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 
You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.
“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.
Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.
You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.
You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.
“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.
Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.
His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.
You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.
“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.
He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.
“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.
“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”
“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.
“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”
Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.
He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 
The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 
You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 
“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.
Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.
He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.
You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 
The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 
Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 
“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.
He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 
Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.
You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.
Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.
arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???
tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3
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tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!
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gasstationlady · 6 months
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the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)
lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.
notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)
disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!
masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others
yourusername 🌸
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yourbestie 👀
↳ yourusername 🙈
yourbestie framing these pics brb 😍😍
f1gossip
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2,993 likes
f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️
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user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs
↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄
user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here
user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!
user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha
landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others
landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙
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user happy lando >>>
user Where’s your girlfriend
user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo
user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u
↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭
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f1gossip
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12,321 likes
f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀
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user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍
user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now
user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.
user she looks so kind 🥺🥺
user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child
user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her
landoupdates
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7,626 likes
landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”
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user her face card is insane.
user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL
user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭
user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩
user honestly she’s my new fav wag
user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo
user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT
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f1gossip
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11,234 likes
f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀
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user not them clowning him 😭
user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top
user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹
user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩
user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”
user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N
user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹
landoupdates
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5,389 likes
landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️
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user literally my fav couple
user when is he gonna make it officially on insta
↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭😭 I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.
user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today
user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics
↳ user LOL you’re so real for that
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others
landonorris We so good ❤️
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user THE HAND PLACEMENT
user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭
↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private
user When will it be my turn 😩
user LANDO??? OMFG
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊
user omggg i can’t, they’re goals
user Y/N IS SO CUTE
user i luv my parents
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1K notes · View notes
kaysungshine · 7 days
Text
𝓛𝓸𝓯𝓲 𝓛𝓾𝓼𝓽 ♡
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{ Pairing } - Producer.bf!Jisung x afab.gf!reader
{ Genre } - NSFW; s/f/d(dark)*, PWP, established relationship
{ Synopsis } - Your boyfriend doesn't know any other method of stress relief, other than creating music. He can get so consumed by it, it can become the stressor. So you decide to present him with a new method. That's how you found yourself walking down the street in nothing but lingerie and a long coat.
{ WC } - 2.9k
{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, *forced orgasm/slight dubcon if you squint, everything is consensual but there is begging for more when reader might be at her limit so that's why I'm including dubcon (for those who may find it triggering)*, use of pet names (baby, angel, mine, my love, good girl & Ji), very lowkey needy/soft dom & romantic sub dynamic, worshipping reader, oral (f. recieving), squirting, overstimulation, unprotected piv (do as I say & not as I write, pee after sex too!), creampie, cum feeding & eating, fingers in mouth, pussy worship, I may just have gotten carried away with oral fixations okay? FORGIVE ME.
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.
{ A/N } - I originally was going to post a Hyunjin oneshot next, but I wanted to finish this one in time for Jiji's birthday! It's 2 am on the 14th where I am heheh. Hopefully you all like it. Han producing music will always be hot asf for me personally lmao. Barely proofread.
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The air was cool, seeping underneath your long wool coat. In any other circumstance, on a late fall night, the coat would be enough to keep the chill out. Today however, it wouldn't. But you still kept walking, determined to make it to Jisungs studio. 
You focused on the clicking of the heels on the boots you wore. And the sound of the wind picking up, signalling a blustery night ahead. The small sounds calm your nerves. 
You were anxious about Jisung's reaction, he was in one of his moods again. You understand, you truly do. Juggling everything he has to on his plate, it was no easy feat. There were times he'd just let that dark veil take over, and shut everyone out without even meaning to. 
You knew he was in that state again when you hadn't seen or heard from him in three days. It wasn't for lack of effort on your end either. Every phone call sent to voicemail, every text sent by you was met with the same response;
'At the studio, I'll text you after, angel'.
You knew it was time for intervention when Chan texted you that he was only coming home, at 2 in the morning no less, to shower and change. No eating, no resting, just back to the studio afterwards.
This had happened twice before in the almost year you've been dating. Each time you remember talking with him afterwards, he always said the same thing;
'making music is my stress relief.'
That may be true, but it doesn't change the fact that he is also a workaholic. One who easily gets lost in the creative space he has built a career off of. And once that diligence sets in, it's hard to shake off. 
So here you are, ready to try a new approach. Ready to offer a new kind of relief. An alternative. 
You and Jisungs sex life was far from boring. Far from infrequent, you'd say too. But it surely was more... monotonous. You'd never complain about it, and neither would he. There was nothing wrong with it. It just happened at the 'perfect' times in your relationship. 
Before bed, after date nights, on monthly anniversaries, to express massive amounts of love, etc. 
It was never to celebrate happiness, calm anger, or comfort sadness. Never to relieve stress. 
You were determined to change that. There was no reason you could not help him in any way you could. And in this aspect, you knew you could. 
Still, you were nervous. This would be new, he never did well with new. 
Your footsteps stopped, leaving only the sound of the wind in your ears. Until you pressed your badge against the card reader, listening to the beeps, to the gears unlock. 
Once inside the lobby, the clinking of your heels against the vinyl tile filled your ears. Each step matches the thumping in your heart, you find yourself speed walking.
 You smiled and gave a little wave to the staff in the lobby, and they returned it. 
In the elevator, the sound of its melodic music filled your ears next. The whirring background noise the machinery made, stopped, as you reached your desired floor. 
There was silence when you stepped off. The flooring is carpeted now, and soundproof rooms lined the hallway leaving the night quiet. 
You took a deep breath and made your way to the door you knew was your boyfriend's. It was unlocked, thankfully. 
You let yourself in, seeing the silhouette of your boyfriends back facing the door in the blue lighting. 
He was all about ambiance in this facet of life, having LED's lining the ceiling. The only source of light in the room, besides the glowing screens of his monitors. 
He was sat in his chair, headphones on, hood up, head nodding in tandem with his fingers tapping. 
You took the opportunity to slide your boots off. Opting to keep your coat on, you brushed your hair over one shoulder. You took your badge from around your neck, and tossed it on the leather couch that was against the wall. 
Padding your way over to him, you place your hand on his shoulder lightly. He tenses under your touch, and turns his head. He's frowning when he first faces you, eyebrow furrowed together. 
When he sees you though, he softens. The corners of his mouth slightly upturning to a small smile. 
"Baby..." He whispers, sliding his head phones off. Soft lofi music is filling the room from them. 
He grabs your hand off his shoulder, bringing it to his lips. He's pressing soft kisses to your palm, and placing it on his cheek. 
"It's late my angel, why are you here?" He says in a husky voice with more volume. 
Your heart flutters at his gentleness, and you bend down to press your own lips to the top of his head. A musky, yet spicy vanilla scent fills your nostrils. His scent. 
"I'm here to help you baby." You murmur to him softly. 
That caught his attention. He fully swivelled around to face you, taking both of your hands in his. He gazed up into your eyes, a curious look on his face. 
You smiled down on him, feeling nothing but love for this man. You'd relax him in any way you can. You placed a hand on each side of his face, bending down again. No more words were said as you kissed him. As your hands slid down his neck, his found themselves on yours, pulling you closer to him. Matching your eagerness.
You let your hands fully slide off him, and tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Your trembling fingers were working the buttons on your coat. One by one, releasing the fabric from your bare skin. 
You stood up, letting the coat fall from your shoulders.
Jisung lets out a soft gasp, and licks his lips. 
Exposed to him, was his favorite lingerie you owned. It was a bra and panty set, satin and lace. Revealing. 
All white. 
Your boyfriends favorite part. He always said that the contrast against your melanated skin was a work of art. He joked about commissioning Hyunjin, if he didn't have to see you essentially naked.
So here you stood before him, presenting yourself to him. Silently willing him to do as he pleases. To take your body and use you to decompress. You were too nervous to say it.
He traces the swell of your breast with a finger, curving around the delicate lace. It's a simple touch, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps blooming on your skin. 
"So sexy." He mumbles, eyes roving your whole body. 
He stands up, kissing you desperately, and walking you back to the couch. Your knees hit the back of it, and you're forced to sit. Lips ripping away from his, panting at the desire in his eyes. 
All your nerves were gone. New or not, it would never change the fact that Jisung craved you as much as you craved him. 
He held himself up with his hands on the back of the couch, and hovered above you for a moment looking you in the eyes. 
Then he was sinking to the ground, on his knees, between your legs. His hands smooth over your thighs, making them pliant with soft kisses, before he spreads them open. Your pussy is glistening behind the lace, and he licks his lips again. 
His hand glides from your thigh, to your heat. Thumb brushing against that sensitive bud, the friction eliciting a whine from you. 
His eyes snap up to you, and he holds your gaze as his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core. The tip of it flicking deliciously against your sensitive clit. 
"Mmmm..." He groaned at the taste of you, "All for me?"
You moan at his tongue swiping against you again, and again, "All for you, my love." 
His fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear, and he peels them off you. He's whimpering, watching as strings of your arousal stick to them. The cool air is hitting your sex, before puffs of hot air from his mouth is. And you're shivering again at the sensation. 
A gasp escapes you when his tongue slides between your folds. Lapping up your juices, and suckling at that bundle of nerves. You listen to the wet sounds his mouth is making against you, along with the broken melody coming from his head set. You get lost in it. 
Your hand finds his hair, and you're grinding against his mouth. He's whimpering and moaning with you, one hand palming at his bulge. The other has fingers teasing your entrance. 
You let out a loud moan when two fingers push into you, and your grasp on his hair loosens. He takes the opportunity to get air, panting, mouth hanging open. His cheeks, chin and lips all shine in the dull blue light. 
His fingers continue to pump into you as he watches your face contort for him. He's smiling with lidded eyes, basking in the fact that he's making you feel so good. 
"Ji..." You moan, needing more.
"My beautiful baby, let me worship you a little longer." And he's diving back down.
His tongue focuses on your clit, and fingers coaxing that gummy spot inside you. He's pulling moan after moan from you, making out with your lower lips, bringing you closer to the edge. Your thighs start trembling around his head, and he has to grip the fleshy part of one of them to stop you from squeezing him before he's finished. 
You're spilling over the edge, body alight and your release coating his fingers, and face. He's lapping up every little bit, determined to taste your pleasure on his tongue. Only when you start to whine from constant overstimulation does he stop. 
He's kissing his way up to your lips, leaving a wet trail behind him that you couldn't bring yourself to care about. 
You're not sure when he managed to discard his pants and boxers, but you feel his hard, bare length pressing against your inner thigh. 
He's rubbing his member against your pussy now, letting your slick and his saliva cover him. Kissing your neck as he's rocking against you, he whispers, "Angel, do you have another one for me?"
Of course you did, you knew you did. You needed to feel him, you needed to please him. So you started nodding fervently, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he sucked lightly near your ear and jaw. 
He had a grasp of his cock now, dragging the head through your folds with added pressure. Each squelch of your juices sounds like music to your ears, anticipation building in your body.
"'Gonna make you feel s'good." He's whining into your neck. 
He has your legs around him now, as he fills you slowly, both of you savoring the sensations it brings. Your pussy spasms around him, and it has him grunting. 
"Always feel so good squeezin' me..." He mumbled, letting you adjust, "...exactly what I needed..." 
Then he was pumping into you, and you felt it. All the frustrations he was holding onto, all the stress, all the vexation. He was translating it into the energy he used to pleasure you. Letting go of it all. 
You couldn't hear the soft lofi music coming from his head set anymore, instead the slapping of skin and heavy breathing mixed with moans were filling the room. You'd never be more thankful for a soundproof space. Neither of you were holding back. 
Your moans only being interrupted by quiet curses, and his being peppered in between praises of how good you feel for him. He made it known he was chasing your high before his, begging you to cum for him. 
"Please angel," he whispers against your lips, "need to feel you cumming on my cock."
His pace became quicker as he kissed you, and his hand slithered down to play with your clit. Your back arched off the couch at that, angling him deeper inside you. He groaned, and his thrusts faltered for a second indicating he was close. 
Regardless he was determined to finish you, and his tone grew more demanding, "Be a good girl... cum for me, angel."
And that was all your body and mind needed to let go, legs locking around him and body shaking. Your hands slid under his hoodie, and nails dug into his back. It was the kind of intense orgasm, that your moan got stuck in your throat, instead a rough growl coming out. 
You sounded absolutely feral for him, and you were. 
That was what pushed him over the edge, a slew of curses leaving his mouth as his hips stuttered. With a final harsh thrust, he cums deep inside you. All of the negativity has dispersed from his body, and he collapsed back to his knees. 
You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. You jolt when you feel his fingers in your folds, over sensitivity taking over yet again. He's spreading you open, hypnotized by the way his cum is drooling out of you. 
"So perfect, fuck." He says as he drags his finger through it. 
He's bringing it up to your lips, and your mouth opens instinctively. You're sucking his finger into your mouth, his essence salty but familiar on your tongue. 
His eyes are locked to yours as you work his finger, licking it clean. He slips a second finger in your mouth, letting you cover them in your saliva before he dips back down for a taste himself. 
You're whining around his fingers when his tongue glides against your clit, and your hips try to retract into the couch. Quickly, he has both hands on your hips, securing you in place so he can continue tasting you. 
"We taste so good together, my love..." He's mumbling against you. 
His words will never fail to coax submission out of you.
Your hand flies back to his hair, as good as it feels you're trying to pull him away. He's just burying his face deeper, tongue dipping into your entrance to make sure he's tasting everything. 
"Ji... s'too much... I can't-" You're pleading, even though you feel yourself succumbing to the overwhelming brushes of his tongue.
He hisses when you finally succeed in pulling him off you, "Please angel," He's begging again, "Just one more. I know you have one more for me." 
"Fuck, Ji, I-" 
He silences you with his tongue flat against you, another lick up to your clit "Please, need to hear you cumming one more time for me." He whines and starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your pussy. 
You always knew he was more of a giver. That even though it was you who had cum twice, and he only once. He preferred it that way. Even if he was the one needing the release more, he thrived more on your pleasure.
"Just be gentl-" You try to say, but cut yourself off with a groan. 
He's eagerly slurping at your core. Lost in the moment, all he has is your pussy on his mind now. Messily licking and lapping at every inch. He's shaking his head and moaning into it, keeping you pinned in place by your hips. 
You feel another orgasm starting to build quickly, clenching around nothing. He risks you bucking your hips roughly into his face, and takes a hand off your hip. He's pushing two fingers into you yet again, and you're seeing stars. 
His fingers curl, and his lips close around your clit, sucking lightly. You feel your release slip away from you, and your cumming on his face again. Yelling his name. He only grows more determined.
He leans back so he can watch the beautiful, writhing, mess he reduced you to. The thumb of his other hand is replacing his mouth, continuously flicking your bud. He doesn't slow his movements as you ride out your orgasm, instead picking them up. 
Your world turns white, and you feel yourself squirt on his hands. He's watching you in awe, whispering more praise for you as your juices spray over him. 
"So fucking sexy, my good girl."
"That's it, let go for me, let it all go."
"Knew you had one more in you, all for me."
"My perfect angel."
It's when you start to slip into that floaty space that he finally stops. He doesn't want you too gone, he's limited in the care he can provide here.
He's positioning you to lay on the couch, and he's laying behind you. You're both wet and sticky, and heaving for air. Yet, it's blissful. 
You lay there for what could've been minutes or an hour, you weren't sure. You were content in each other's touch. Your arm reaches back to caress his head, fingers combing through his hair. He's humming. 
"I love you." You finally murmur. 
"I love you more, angel. Thank you for this." He says, and kisses your shoulder. 
"You caught on quickly to my idea." You giggled.
He laughed with you, "I caught on halfway through it, actually. I was just beside myself with desire for you." 
You blushed at that, and you were thankful he couldn't see it. 
"I mean you showed up in my favorite set..." He whispers and starts toying with the lace on your bra, his finger slipping underneath to flick your nipple, "In ONLY my favorite set. How could I not show you how much I admire you." 
You felt his length harden against you again, and he rolled his hips slowly as he gripped your hip. 
You knew the night was far from over. 
As for how you were both going to escape and clean up? Well that was a problem for future you. 
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Taglist:
@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess
@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv
@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu
@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd
@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties
@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale
As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡
But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.
617 notes · View notes
kazutora-kurokawa · 4 months
Note
Bonten with a reader who is literally a little princess; a girly (something like your tenjiku publication with a hyper feminine reader)
Bonten x Hyper Feminine!Reader
♡ SFW, suggestive, fem reader, fluff, reader likes dresses, skirts, heels, scrunchies, ribbons, bows and all that stuff, reader wears perfume and makeup ♡
Characters: Mikey, Sanzu, Kakucho, Kokonoi, Ran, Rindou, Mochi, Takeomi
note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷
note 2: my brain is simultaneously on overdrive and dead asf lol, this took me forever for no reason
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
Mikey
💠 Emo boy and his princess girlfriend lol
💠 He doesn't mind your fashion sense and actually enjoys the pop of color and brightness you bring to his usually dark and bleak life
💠 Keeps you far away from the rest of Bonten, he doesn't want nor need you getting involved in his shit
Sanzu
🌸 Have you seen this man's hair? Bubblegum pink 🙄
🌸 He'd probably want to match hair colors
🌸 He'd absolutely sort through your hair clips and such, arranging them by color and size
🌸 Seems calm but is actually going feral on the inside whenever he sees you in a fluffy dress
Kakucho
🩷 Buries his face in your neck because he loves the smell of your perfume
🩷 Sprays his cologne on a jacket or shirt and leaves them with you before he goes on business trips, better yet he'll leave the whole bottle
🩷 Loves when you leave kiss marks on his clothes, even though the Haitani brothers (and Sanzu lol) poke fun at him for it
Kokonoi
💵 Bought every piece of clothing and accessory you own
💵 Tries heels on before he buys them for you, probably fell while walking in them too
💵 Does your hair for you even though he could definitely pay someone to do it instead, he likes the bonding experience
Ran
💜 Treats you like royalty, you look like a princess and deserve to be treated like one
💜 Lets you run wild with his credit cards because anything his princess wants, she gets
💜 Picks out your outfits everyday and gets pouty if you wear something other than what he picked
Rindou
🩵 Likes when you play in his hair and style it with hair clips
🩵 Let you put makeup on him once....never again lmao
🩵 He'd tie a ribbon on his arm for you, no doubt
Mochi
🍡 Wears your hair ties and scrunchies on his wrists, either you leave them with him or he just snatches them
🍡 Has probably ripped your skirt on an occasion or two, he's very heavy handed but he doesn't mean to be
🍡 Type of boyfriend to lift you up and spin you around just to see your dress flow in the wind
Takeomi
🚬 Refuses to smoke around you because he doesn't want to leave the smell of cigarettes on your pretty clothes
🚬 Constantly checking your closet for new clothes so he can know what not to buy you
🚬 Always finds your hair accessories and jewelry scattered around the house and struggles trying to find where it goes
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Taglist
@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx
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siyzuii · 1 month
Text
⨳   ʾ apps/sites 4 shifting   .   ♡
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hi! this will be long but i made a list of apps/sites that might be helpful for your shifting journey. reminder that you don't need these to shift but they can be helpful with manifesting, keeping track of stuff, etc.
enjoy! divider cr
NOT SPONSORED BTW LMAO
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﹒   ⊹   🝮   OO1: NOTION   ✩
description:
basically notion is an app for documents and stuff. i have to say this one's relatively known and it's such a huge life saver and i know that probably everyone knows about it already (as they should) but i'm gonna recommend it once again.
useful for:
scripting
dashboards you can add life goals & stuff here you can look up some templates/ideas and see what i mean LOL
cons:
i personally can not think of any major ones because this app is just that good
you do have to make new accounts for the text ai generating feature but i don't know if anyone would use that
additional notes:
i personally love how customizable it is! like you can make each page have a custom icon & header, add widgets, images, and so much more. it is so so so insanely helpful for scripting i'm telling you. or you can just be basic, that works too. there's also a bunch of script templates online including specific ones (like a better cr, fame dr, fantasy dr, fandom-specific drs, bla bla bla) and it's literally the only thing shifttok is good for imo. i'm a big fan of shifterium's templates but there's other people who make them as well and i'm sure you can find some recommendations!
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★   ₊   ➲  OO2: CANVA
description:
a website + app where you can design stuff from headers down to presentations, posters, covers, etc..
useful for:
album covers for singer/idol drs
book covers for writer drs or something
fake social media posts but there's better apps out there and i'll list them here as well
and much more!
cons:
a lot of things (most of which i think are the good stuff) are paid but you can find similar replicas if you scroll long enough i guess..?? and there's a free trial but i don't know if that helps
additional notes:
definitely my favorite place to go when i need to design something tbh. there's a bunch of templates you can use and the layout is very easy to navigate through! and it's pretty easy to find free alternatives for the paid stuff you do have in there
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₍ⁿ⑅..ⁿ₎   ˇ   ⩩   OO3: PARROT   ❀  
description:
parrot is an app where you can record yourself saying literally anything and play it on a continuous loop
useful for:
affirmations (manifesting??)
cons:
i'm pretty sure it's iOS only
additional notes:
personally i haven't used this app (i don't like my voice so i will not be recording myself saying affirmations thank yew) so i can't give it a rating but from the looks of it and based off of recommendations i've seen it's pretty useful. should be a white icon with a pink circle that has a white parrot in it!
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≥≤   ﹕   ⤷   OO4: BEHINDTHENAME   ◍
description:
a site where you can generate names & even life stories if you choose it (including height, weight, blood type, birthday, nationality and more i think?? at least it gives those for me). you can choose from different cultures and stuff like fantasy & mythology.
useful for:
finding a name & info for your dr self (which is literally you by the way don't forget that!) and potentially other people you'd like to script in
cons:
it really just helps to make a basic profile of a person so the things you can do with it can be a little limited
additional notes:
i prefer using this site for ocs instead but i think it can definitely help with shifting! oddly enough it also shows like a lifespan & cause of death so.. cool i guess!!!!
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✦   ﹕   OO5: SOCIAL MAKER/dummy
description:
social maker & social dummy are both apps where you can replicate almost basically anything from the internet from twitter posts to facebook posts, youtube posts, and more!
useful for:
social media stuff especially useful for fame drs, streamer drs, idol/singer drs and so much more
cons:
both apps were deleted so you have to have had installed them before if you want to get them back
social maker is ios only i think?
additional notes:
yeah both apps are deleted but there's alternatives out there like twinote (for twitter) photonote (for instagram) canva (has fake social media templates as i said lol) and others that you can look for (because i personally only use twinote)
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⋆   ᶻᶻ     OO6: HELLOFACE   ﹒   ★
description:
basically an app for ai face swapping
useful for:
seeing what your face claim (if you have one) would look like on for example dances, fancams, interviews definitely useful for idol/singer/maybe fame drs
cons:
uses ai (i'm personally not a big fan of ai)
pretty underground so the chances that you might not like it are not low
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✭     ❒︎   OO7: ROOM PLANNER   .   ♡
description:
basically what the name says. it's a 3d home designer
useful for:
making your dr room/house
visualizing your dr room/house
cons:
has paid stuff
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┊   ‧  ⬭   OO8: COMBYNE
description:
an app where you can combine items you like from a wide selection of stuff to make outfits!
useful for:
making outfits for your dr
visualizing said outfits
additional notes:
there's other things you can do on the app like challenges where you can compete to make the best outfit i think?? looks pretty fun i might try it HAHAHA
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yuh so i got a little lazy here at the end & i know this is prolly not very helpful because most of these apps/sites are pretty well known but maybe just maybe.. i helped someone out...
HAPPY SHIFTING!!!!!
410 notes · View notes
arlestial · 2 months
Text
❝lavender haze❞
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synopsis : Rin begged Ego to let you assist to one of his training games. But he wasn’t quite fond of your interactions with a certain player..
pairing : Rin Itoshi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock
tw : A mix of fluff and comfort, with the slightest bit of angst (jealousy themes, possessiveness)
word count : 2700~ words
author-note : Hi !!! It's been so long, I missed writing so much... I finally passed my final exams, and I'm now in vacations; I’m going to Austria today. My blog is like- a blue lock obsession at this point lmao but ngl i like it that way. Btw, I’ve seen the movie and I'm just plain disappointed ? It was short asf, and the animation... well, we don't wanna talk about it. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated :) sorry if it’s bad btw !! Anyway, take care of yourself ♡
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A rare, smug smile appeared on RIN ITOSHI’s lips; a smile that immediately triggered his teammates, who looked at each other, dumbfounded. They weren’t used to observe him with such an expression written on his usual stern features; as soon as he left the locker rooms, whispers emerged in the sweaty air, begging for an explanation.
"No way he did," Isagi contested with a frown and a disapproving tone, much to Bachira’s dismay.
"I’ve seen it with my eyes," The other retorqued, "Believe me. He smiled, dude. I’ve never seen him smile before."
"We’re gonna get fired from Blue Lock. I swear— he wouldn’t be happy if it wasn’t terrible. He’s a sadist."
"No worries, my dear Isagi. We’re going to elucidate this mystery together," Bachira replied with a proud smirk of his own; Isagi sighed at his friend’s antics.
"Maybe it’s personal."
"It’s never personal enough for us not to be nosy !" The dual-haired boy nearly gasped, "Our duo is unstoppable."
With more or less desire to intrude Rin’s life, Isagi joined Bachira into a rather quick — and disappointing — mission, to solve the mystery around the cold-hearted guy’s smile, a smile they had the chance to witness.
"Ah. Itoshi asked Ego to let his partner see the next training game. I didn’t know he would be this enthusiastic once Ego accepted."
Anri’s revelation should’ve been a relief for the two men — they wouldn’t be expelled of the program. Thus, Isagi had been surprised and confused when he noticed Bachira’s quiet attitude.
"Aren’t you supposed to be delighted you discovered the truth ?", The raven-haired boy asked, curious, as they walked in the corridor to join their rooms again.
"I didn’t even have time to feel the thrill of the investigation," the other whined.
"At least we know he has a partner. It’s… let’s just say it’s surprising someone like him could ever get someone."
"Someone like me ?"
The sudden third voice scared the two men off, and they jumped. Of course, it was Rin. Always there at the worst moment. Isagi gulped.
"H-Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—"
"What Isagi was trying to say, is that we’re not picturing you as the lovey-dovey type of guy, you know ? Not a good boyfriend or something."
If Isagi could facepalm right now, he would, "Thank you for your help, Bachira, it’s even worse now", he replied in a murmur.
"Who said I couldn’t be the "lovey-dovey type of guy" ?", Rin huffed in his usual cold tone, "and a good boyfriend ?"
"Everyone," the two others responded at the same time. Rin rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"So, y’all just sat down and talk about who could be a good partner or not ? That’s probably why you’re still fucking losers at soccer."
Bachira held Isagi back, amused by his eagerness to show Rin "who’s the real loser between them". Rin walked away confidently, and above all, enlivened by Ego’s answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it, the butterflies already flying eagerly in his stomach in anticipation.
RIN ITOSHI’s belly butterflies died in an instant. It wasn’t fair. At all. He had been longing for you since weeks now, months even; he negotiated with Ego for who-knows-long, trying to find a way to make you come to a training game of his — so that he wouldn’t have to search for you in a huge crowd of exasperating, futile, and bland people. And here he was, watching you from afar talking with Isagi Yoichi. He cursed under his breath. This dude had nothing to do with you. He was nothing compared to Rin; a mere guy, with limited soccer skills and knowledge and experience and — why were you talking with him anyway ? When he was right there, waiting for you. The training have haven't even started yet, and playing with Isagi left a bitter taste in his mouth. He threw a hard glare in your direction, which you immediately noticed; you waved at him with a smile, and it nearly made him melt. It would've if he wasn't this upset in the first place. Bachira called for Isagi, and the raven-haired boy returned to the field with a smile. If he could, Rin would definitely wipe the smile off this random guy's face.
RIN ITOSHI tried not to let this affect him. But the prominent and everlasting burning sensation in his chest clouded his mind, making him loose his focus each time his eyes would fall on either Isagi, or you. And god knows how much he had missed you, how he needed to touch you now, to feel your skin just against his — to kiss you endlessly, and his gaze softened by pure reflex as he noticed you were staring at him. He felt guilty, to entertain such hideous resentment towards you, while you were just there for him, as beautiful as the day he left you in your shared apartment to join Blue Lock again after his short break. Was he jealous? It couldn't be. Why would he be jealous of Isagi? He was better than him in everything. Atter 45 minutes, when they all got a short break from the match, Rin refused to say a word. He was always rather quiet - but now, it felt a bit weird. He just stared at Isagi with a cold gaze, and the other boy frowned. When they had to join the field again, Isagi stopped Rin, a hand laying on his shoulder.
"Hey, is everything okay? If it's about the score of earlier, I already said -"
"Look," Rin cut out quickly, his tone slowly shifting to an irritated one, "I don't want to hear your fucking voice."
Isagi's brows were now even more furrowed in confusion,
"What the.. I did nothing bad, dude. If you're upset, that's not my problem. Deal with your childish feelings alone, I don't know."
Childish feelings ? It was deeper than that. Much to Rin's own surprise, he grabbed Isagi's collar, dragging him closer with a menacing look. He didn't know, did he ? How much Rin loved you, how much he required your whole attention. Maybe it was childish indeed, selfish even, to desire to be your whole world. The only one you would ever think about. If he could make you his forever, he would; and at the same time, you had every right to talk to other people, be friends with anyone, you were free after all. But that wouldn’t rub out the aching feeling in his heart, seeing you smile with someone else, having a good time with someone who wasn’t him. Maybe because in the very end, he was scared of losing you. Of you, finally realizing you deserved far better than what he could give you. He was distant, sometimes. He hurt you too much, argued with you on futile things, left for Blue Lock for months, he was a huge mess, and still, you wanted him. It was a mystery for Rin, but he wouldn’t ever complain. He was too engrossed in your love and affection, and somehow, even if he knew it was fundamentally wrong, he’d never wish for you to realize what you truly deserved. Because it wasn’t him. And he couldn’t bare to see you enjoying your life with someone else other than him.
"I’m going to end your pathetic and meaningless existence so quickly you won’t have time to take another breath," Rin spat sharply, "I’ll politely advice you not to approach them ever again — don’t want your disgusting germs to infect them, understood ?"
With these words, Rin yanked him away and joined the field, leaving a widened-eyed Isagi behind him. As soon as the game ended, the whole Blue Lock team began gathering their water bottles, heading to the locker rooms. Rin stayed behind, since he wanted to spend some time with you before your departure. When you both were finally alone, you walked down the stairs, and Rin immediately engulfed you in his arms. One hand was grabbing your side, the other resting on the back of your head, pulling you close. He sighed, inhaling your familiar perfume — it was his favorite, the one he gifted you recently — and pressed a delicate kiss to the crown of your head.
"I missed you so much," He declared, or more precisely, complained, and you chuckled, embracing him just as tightly.
"And I missed you even more," you responded, loosening your embrace to look at him. He could die for this fond look in the depths of your irises. You didn’t have to ask; his hands reached for your cheeks, tilting your head backwards to kiss you gently, yet, eagerly, a pleading for your tenderness. You kissed him back, amused by his move. He was usually the reserved type, especially in public — even if the whole stadium was empty now. Your lips parted to welcome his tongue inside, deepening the kiss even more, a slow dance mimicking his need for you. He kissed your forehead softly when you two broke away from one another.
"What happened earlier ? With Isagi. I thought you were gonna fight."
The question tensed him. Of course you had to bring it up. He stroked your cheek delicately, as if you’d shatter if he wasn’t careful enough.
"Nothing, love, don’t worry. I was just—"
"He told me about it, Rin."
You cut him, and he winced. Ah. That was a problem. He swore he discerned a tint of disappointment in your eyes, but it faded away too rapidly for him to search for it again.
"I thought we said no lies between us."
"I know, darling", he could only mutter. You gently took his wrists, then his hands, intertwining your fingers together.
"Am I not reassuring you enough, Rin ? I won’t ever leave you. Especially not for a guy I just met. You know that."
"More than enough," the memory of your smile and laugh when Isagi cracked a joke made him sigh, "it’s hard to believe sometimes. That’s all."
You nodded; with his lack of self-esteem, how was he supposed to believe you, anyway ? It was a constant fight against the insecurities crawling in the pit of his soul, however, you would never let them win. He suffered enough alone, now that you were there with him, you’d be in the frontlines.
"But it’s still true. I’m lucky to have you, Rin. Maybe one day you’d finally recognize that."
At this moment, he wanted to tell you he was lucky to have you, but he didn’t dare, especially not when he saw you reaching for him again, your arms around his neck. He let himself drown in your arms and comfort, soothed by your heartbeat — at this very precise instant, he swore his heart was beating for you. And if you wanted it on a silver plate, he’d gladly do so.
"I’m sure his joke wasn’t even that funny."
You chuckled, "maybe not better than yours, I must admit."
Not far away, two boys were spying on the scene; their investigation had been more successful than what they ever hoped for, "maybe he’s not that bad, after all."
"I thought he was going to choke me to death."
"Oh, he could."
RIN ITOSHI was a possessive man. Somewhere, he wanted you to rely on him, and him only — to be the only source of your happiness. He never had something to call his; you were the first. And he fully intended you to be the last.
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morphodae · 3 months
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◆ Neon Lights ◆
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Aventurine x Gamer!GN!Reader
Summary: Something you learned about him once you began dating six months ago is that Aventurine likes to spoil you. A lot. It's endearing how much he supports your full-time hobby and livelihood, but sometimes he… tends to go a bit overboard…
CW: none, really... Aventurine is a lil bit of a sugar daddy but that's okay :) lmao
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A deep sigh leaves your lips. Flashing lights dance across the screen, signaling another PvP match lost to the best competitors in the galaxy. You yank off your headset and fail to hear the announcer on the other end advance the next team to the finals. It was a good thing you weren’t streaming so your viewers didn’t have to see the childish pout on your lips. 
You run a hand over your forehead in frustration and reach over to an unopened bottle of SoulGlad on the desk. You pop open the orange drink with a furious fizz, chugging down a small bit before slouching back in your chair. Your other hand hovers over the keyboard, typing a half-hearted message of gratitude to the other teams before clicking on the ‘off’ button and logging off. You hated being so competitive, but making it to the finals would have secured your paycheck for at least three months.
*1 New Message from Aventurine*
‘Your pouting face is so cute, sweetheart~’
*Aventurine has sent 100,000 credits*
‘Go out and get yourself anything you want. My treat~’
Paranoid, you look up and around. The door to your room has been shut for hours and as far as you knew, there wasn't any hidden surveillance from your trusted boyfriend or anything like that. You jump out of your chair and look in the corners of the room, behind pillows and furniture – even eyeing that owl plushie he got you from a Penacony festival a few weeks ago.
Your phone dings again before your paranoia can eat you alive any further.
*1 New Message from Aventurine*
‘Before you tear apart your room looking for hidden cameras, I bet my life that I haven’t done anything as scandalous as that.’
‘Aww don’t make that face. I can’t even see you and I already have you down like a well-read book. I predicted that you’d be freaking out right about now, and I won that bet, right? Haha, well, please just take the credits I sent.’
You begin furiously typing back at him to wonder how the hell he’s so keen on knowing you so well and predicting your every move, but another message pops up before you have the chance to.
‘I was tuned into the gaming competition and saw that you lost in the semifinals. Doll, I sent you those credits to cheer you up while I’m away on business. Also, it should cover the cost of rent, yeah? When I get back I’ll do anything you want <3’
An exasperated sigh leaves your lips after reading all that. You pout again as fingers deftly type up a reply to him.
‘Aventurine, I swear to Xipe… the amount of credits you sent has to be a mistake, right? I can’t possibly accept that!’
*Aventurine has sent 100,000 credits*
‘Hm, not enough? Haha, don’t worry, doll. Here’s some more for you.’
Your mouth hangs open in utter shock before you close it again. A building fury is bubbling in your chest at his sheer audacity. He thinks he can get away with it just because he has dirty IPC money and is pretty, huh? Oh, you’ll kick him right in the –
‘You’re too cute to be angry with me. While your feelings are valid and I understand that you have your pride and want to support yourself, but I truthfully have too many credits than I know what to do with. Let me spoil my baby ;)’
‘Just promise me you won’t neglect yourself again for the games, okay? I know how much they mean to you and how fun they are, but what good would it be if I came back to you getting sick over it? Take care of yourself, sweetheart, or I might just have to get back from this business trip early and sweep you away~’
Your shoulders sag in defeat. You should’ve expected this by now; considering how hellbent he’d been on spoiling you fiscally when he started to pursue you. In spite of your pride, you did appreciate his gifts and actions to show you how much he cared. Even when he went overboard and even when it made you a little sad, you knew Aventurine valued your happiness above his own.
You begin typing a small response, a mitigated ultimatum that should give him something to look forward to when he gets back. ‘Fine. But when you get back, we’re going to have an all-out gaming competition. Just the two of us. Winner gets to decide what we do together for the week you’re off.’
On the other end of the phone in a boring, monochrome office, Aventurine leans back in his chair, expensive leather shoes propped up on his jeweled desk. He smirks, the idea of your little deal striking a chord in him.
It seems like you weren’t the only one with a competitive streak.
‘Oh? Then I’ll be looking forward to winning this little game of yours, sweetheart~’
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