.⋆♱ ──── loren. s/her. 2wenty. afro-latina. invincible's no 1 slut. robert pattinson enthusiast. whore for crowdedhouse & leonard cohen. obsessed with david corenswet. marketing major. jason todd's sweetheart. worshipper of sadie by courtney summers. made for tim drake. you'll find me in bludhaven. evil twin: @pluvoiiia ; req rules. join the taglist. ──── °. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °
main m.list ──── ♱
MY MOST BELOVED WORKS:
"IN EVERY UNIVERSE." & "COMING BACK." & "NEEDY!"
CROWD FAVORITES:
"BABY FEVER!" & "OLD HABITS DIE HARD."
in which, NOLAN GRAYSON is a good man; he can't help but assist his neighbor in times of need.
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includes: nolan grayson x fem!reader, mature content (17+) age gap (nolan - 40's [human years], reader -20's), spoiler alert nolan grayson is not a good man, finger sucking, manipulative!nolan grayson, cheating / infidelity, oral (f. receiving), prone bone, piv, semi-public sex, dirty talk, outdoor sex, making out, fingering, spit, coercive undertones, 4.1k words.
‧₊˚✩彡
kinktober masterlist.
MOVING INTO your own home had consisted of a lot of things; learning which vacuums cleaned your rugs the best, how to change a lightbulb on your own, and even to fix a leaky faucet. the myriad of adult tasks you had suddenly become well acquainted with were simple-- standard for every newly young adult.
but the one thing you could not figure out for the life of you-- was how to work your lawn-mower. the instructions, you figured, mays well have been written in hieroglyphics. every tug and every shove you brought down onto the crappy machine didn't seem to whirl it to life, nor did it enlighten you on how to fix the stupid thing.
standing under the sweltering sun of late summer, you were slowly becoming more and more agitated at what was supposed to be a simple, mindless task. you swiped your forehead with the back of your hand, placing your free hand on your hip; the lawn-mower sat irritatingly still in the middle of your back-yard, amongst even more irritatingly long grass. it tickled your bare ankles mockingly, and the stillness of the wind had you gnawing on your bottom lip in frustration.
out of habit, you glanced upwards and out, at your neighbor's houses. being the youngest home-owner on the block had been intimidating when you moved in, and the daunting fact hadn't become any less scary despite you living in the neighborhood for just over a year. the only people you had really talked to-- beyond a simple greeting or nod-- were the graysons.
nolan, debbie, and their son mark. a kind enough family with a white-picket fence life. you had thought, though, their kindness was due to the fact that you were directly next to them; it would have been virtually impossible for either of you to ignore the other. so debbie had brought you some muffins your first week in your home, and mark (surely forced by his parents) had shoveled your drive-way a few times in the winter. kind, standard. simple.
the eldest man in the house, however, hadn't paid you much mind; he waved curtly when his departure for work aligned with yours, and, on rare occasions, would strike up conversation when you were lounging on your deck and he was outside barbequing.
( "how's work treating you, sweetheart?" he asked, eyes barely looking up from the slowly smoking grill in front of him. standing on his deck, he was more than tall enough to see into your entire back-yard; including you, sun-bathing calmly on a deck chair.
your stomach flipped; certainly, he was just being kind-- right? "well," you scoffed lightly, "it's definitely treating me."
nolan chuckled. it was deep, warm, alluring; from the back of his throat, shooting tingles up your spine. "oh, poor girl," you watched him load a serving dish with burger patties, "somebody 'oughta look after you. work shouldn't be so stressful at your age."
you had blinked twice, irises flickering past the rim of your sunglasses. "right," you agreed, cogs turning in your head-- stuck on the implication of his words.
before you could question him, you heard his barbeque close. "have a nice rest of your evening," he waved, before slinking past the sliding-glass doors back into his house.
you couldn't stop replaying the moment. the graysons were kind, but... were they that kind? )
beyond your simple interactions, you would see him with debbie sometimes. on her way out for work in the mornings, he'd kiss her good-bye; they sometimes ran together, in the late evenings of spring, and you'd watch them circle your neighborhood in minutes-- it was intimate in ways you couldn't describe. fulfilling. if the sun was high in the sky at juuust the right time-- you could peer into the window of their dining room from your own; debbie would set the table, and nolan would be right there, massaging her shoulders as she sat, thanking her for the food, pressing kisses to her hair-line like she was made of glass.
though you'd never admit it, something ugly and bitter would stew deep in your gut; if you hadn't known any better, you'd think your cheeks would have been tinted with a ferocious shade of green-- envy.
nonetheless, the graysons were your neighbors. they were kind people, simple in the most domestic of ways, and had offered a steady hand should you need it in your journey of being an adult.
you didn't feel like an adult now, you remarked inwardly, rolling your eyes at the lawn-mower in front of you. you kicked it again, the machine barely moving under the force of your impact-- and you heard a chuckle from behind you.
"i don't think beating the thing up is going to make it work, honey," nolan grinned, arms crossed over his chest. you could see he wore a simple polo-shirt, the fabric straining against his biceps and chest; standing on the edge of his deck and peering over at you in your yard, the older man looked more than amused.
"oh," you breathed out, slightly startled at his voice; your smile slowly bloomed across your face, though a mild embarrassment crawled up your neck. "i don't know what's wrong with the thing! it won't start up," you exasperate, as if to defend your physical outburst at the machine.
nolan's head tilted to the side softly, eyes squinting at your lawn-mower as if he could see what was wrong with it from all the way in his yard. "did you put fresh gasoline in it?" he questioned, only to laugh a little at your displeased reaction.
"give me more credit than that, mr. grayson," you huffed, and nolan brought his arms up apologetically.
"sorry, sweetheart," he mused, before beginning to walk towards the gate to his back-yard. "here," he said, voice still carrying easily through and above your fence despite the fact that you couldn't see him anymore, "unlock your gate. i'll take a look at it."
you hesitated for only a second, before jogging over to your back-yard's gate and pushing it open; nolan stood, waiting, on the other side. up close, his cologne swarmed your senses, and you could see the gray hairs peppered within his facial hair and at his hair-line. you swallowed, willing yourself to keep your eyes above his neck--regardless of how fucking good the older man looked. standing aside, you held lazily gestured for him to come into your backyard. as he passed, he smiled kindly at you, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving a good squeeze.
the touch should have been kind, simple. but it had your core fluttering, and your knees buckling ever so slightly.
to say that you hadn't been ogling at your neighbor since you had moved in would be a lie. the way his arms flexed when he carried groceries into the house, or the way he tinkered so confidently in his garage on hot summer days was down-right vulgar.
it made you angry, sometimes; knowing that a man that fine was so much older than you, and married, with a son closer to your age than you'd like to admit; that he was something you couldn't have. when it was late at night though, and you were achingly alone in the confinements of your house-- you'd let your mind wander.
wander to all the ways you could play house with that married man; wander to the positions he'd bend and fold you into, wander to the filthy pledges he'd make to you while so impossibly deep inside, and wander to--
"it's your air filter that's the problem," nolan's voice broke you from your day-dreaming, and your eyebrows raised slightly.
"...i didn't even know that lawn-mowers had air-filters."
nolan laughed. it was enchanting-- the way his shoulders moved, head tilted ever so slightly; you moved to sit on your deck, purposefully choosing to squeeze your thighs together, willing the dull ache in your cunt to go away.
get a grip, you thought.
"well, she's clogged," he mused, crouching down in front of your lawn-mower, fiddling with the mechanical parts. "i can fix her up for you."
nolan's offer was generous-- even through its mundanity. "are you sure?" you questioned, fingers rolling and unrolling between the strap of your tank-top absentmindedly. "wouldn't wanna be a bother,"
the man paused, glancing upwards at you. he studied your frame, your cheeks suddenly growing hot. "'course." nolan said easily. "you're not a bother at all. besides, i wasn't doing anything important-- just waiting for the missus to get home,"
debbie briefly crossed your mind at the mention of her, and something akin to guilt flashed through your system. you and nolan weren't doing anything (yet) but the situation you had found yourself in still felt dangerously taboo. "what about mark?" you ask, mouth working faster than your brain.
one of nolan's eyebrows arched upwards, and he stood from in front of your lawn-mower. slowly, perhaps even casually, he crossed the yard to stand in front of you; he peered down, his shadow casted over you like a blanket of naivety. you shivered, despite the heat that seemed to absorb everything around you. "what about him?" he asked.
"uh," you sputtered, unsure of what to say-- what excuse you had to be asking nolan about where his son currently was. it wasn't like you could just confess, so we don't get caught. "well y'know, maybe you have plans with him; i don't to, um, impose on that--"
nolan interrupted you with a light chuckle, before his right hand found your jaw-- cradling it in his grasp like you were the most delicate thing in the universe. heat shot up your spine at the contact. "at his part-time job," the man answered easily. maybe you were hearing things, going utterly insane, but his voice seemed to drop several octaves. "won't be home for a few hours."
your mouth dried up, words shriveling and dying in your throat underneath the intensity of his gaze.
"why're you asking, sweetheart?" nolan questioned, and the nick-name-- god it was supposed to be kind, simple, normal-- made the heat between your thighs thicken intensely.
"well i- uh," you swallowed, blinking up at him, with the wheels turning in your head furiously. "i just wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea-- with you being here n' all,"
"wrong idea?" nolan asked, using his grip to force your face upwards at him even further. "i don't know what you mean by that."
fuck you mr. grayson, you thought inwardly, because it was obvious nolan knew what you meant. it would be obvious to anyone-- blaringly so. a married man had his hand gripping the life out of his controversially younger neighbor's chin, standing before her like she owed him something; all the while his wife and son were painfully unaware of what was happening just one door over to their home.
anyone with a brain could see where this was headed; and the thought of that made you shamefully wet.
"yes you do." you countered, whisper falling from your lips in protest. "you know what this looks like, mr. grayson."
nolan paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips, before leaning down to bring himself to your eye-level. the scent of his after-shave invaded your senses. "i'm just here to help my neighbor out," he said carefully; his voice was not unkind, warmth seeping from every syllable, but the words held power, "unless you had other things in mind."
silently and without thought, your eyes darted to his saliva coated lips, before flickering back to his blue irises.
nolan laughed, a short exhale out through his nose. "i think you have the wrong idea, sweet girl," he whispered. "s' that why you're always so nervous around me? can't help your thoughts?"
you swallowed deeply, mouth parting ever so slightly. by the way nolan was looking at you, speaking to you-- you'd think he could hear every nervous beat of your heart; pumping erratically, out of control at the closeness between the both of you.
his thumb swiped dangerously close to your bottom lip, before resting on the plush fat of it; he paused, before sticking it in your mouth, letting it rest on your tongue.
the saltiness of his finger was bewitching, and against all morality and common sense-- you began to suck. nolan hummed, feeling your hot spit coat his digit with ease. "just say what you want, pretty. i'll give it to you."
reaching upwards, you grasped his wrist tightly-- yanking his hand from your mouth. "i can't," you fought lamely, breathlessly. "it- it's wrong, you're married,"
"hey, shh," he cooed, holding your cheeks gently in his big hand, inadvertently smearing your spit along the plump of your face, "don't think like that." nolan whispered, eyes lowering to your lips, "you're not the one doin' anything wrong, you just need some help," moving closer, his face was mere inches away from you own, his breath-- despite its warmth-- chilling against your lips. "let me help you, princess,"
your eyelashes fluttered, your face so close to his you were certain he could feel the way they brushed rapidly against his cheek. "mr. grayson," you protested weakly, your resolve crumbling hastily.
nolan shushed you gently again, before pressing his lips to yours. the man was warm, tasting like cinnamon and pungent cologne; the stubble on his chin grazed the silk of your skin clumsily as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss; an arm leaving its spot on the deck to wrap around his neck. nolan smelled faintly of oil from your lawn-mower, the tool sitting lifelessly in the middle of your lawn like a reminder of why the man currently kissing the daylights out of you had initially come over.
his tongue, eventually, swiped against your bottom lip-- and your mouth parted easily to allow him access inside. it was intrusive-- but grounding-- the way it over-powered yours, so sloppy and desperate. when he began to suck, a low sound from deep in your throat escaped from you. so measly, so willing; nolan grunted in return, before yanking you upwards by your forearms. you stood now on your tip-toes on the deck-- still connected to your neighbor by the lips.
when you pulled away, desperate for air-- (how had nolan gone so long without breaking away for oxygen?)-- nolan looked down at you with squinted eyes. his lips were plump, swollen from the kissing-- and you were certain yours looked the same. he grinned slightly, watching you pant, before whispering: "see? sweet girl just needed my help,"
you hummed shakily in return, still slightly dazed from the kiss. sweltering summer sun beat down onto your skin-- not adding to the already badgering heat of the situation. your eyes blinked slowly, looking upwards at the man, who looked quite pleased with himself.
"lay down," he urged, nodding towards the lawn; "m' not finished."
you did as he said without protest, the grass prickling your palms, thighs, and back as you laid against the earth. your heart-beat pounded in your ears, and your eyes briefly darted to the grayson's house beside your own. another intense wave of guilt launched itself over-top of you, and your eyes screwed shut as you watched nolan get on the ground as well. he laid in a sniper position, riiight between your thighs, his calloused palms running up and down them.
"what's wrong?" he questioned, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your knees and up your thighs.
you shivered, arousal pooling messily beneath your panties as he trailed his way up, up and up towards your pussy. "i feel bad,"
nolan's fingers hooked into your shorts, yanking them downwards and past your ankles with ease. your panties went along with them, and the harshness of the air against your cunt made you shiver. the man pressed an index-finger, long and thick, straight to your slit-- and he huffed.
"sweetheart," he started, dragging the digit from your clit to your hole achingly slow, "y'can't feel that bad; look at how soaked this pretty little cunt is for me."
you gasped, hips bucking at the stimulation of his finger against your folds. he repeated the action a few more times, reveling in the way your body responded so avidly to his touch. "i-i do," you insisted gently; though it all went out the window as nolan leaned forward onto his forearms and spat directly onto your pussy. you both watched it glisten crudely underneath the hot glare of the sun, the liquid trailing down your folds slowly.
"mhm," nolan hummed, clearly disbelieving, before pressing his mouth to your cunt immediately. his stubble prickled and scratched at your thighs as his jaw loosened against your cunt. your back arched off the grass wildly as he licked one looong flat stripe up your folds, maintaining eye-contact with you as if his life depended on it.
"o-ohh holy shit!" you yelped, fists clenching and unclenching as his lips latched onto your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud with passion.
nolan worked diligently, his tongue swiping across your folds before dipping into you and tongue-fucking you with vigor. he hummed and groaned against your skin, the taste of your slick intoxicating to the older man. reaching beside him, he yanked your legs over his shoulders, inadvertently reaching deeper within your sopping cunt. "that's it," he grumbled against your pussy, muffled by your flesh, "fuckin' taste so good for me; dripping on my face. i knew you needed this,"
you were thrashing wildly at his motions, fists meeting the firm soil beneath you repeatedly. "fuuuck," you whined, clearly too high off of being ate out to have any care that your other neighbors might hear you.
the feeling of nolan's fingers, two of them, prodding at your entrance stole the breath from your lungs. there was only a moment of this, though, before he shoved them both inside you-- tongue still lapping at your clit with an unkempt regard. they curled almost immediately against your g-spot, and your hips jerked recklessly.
"g-god, shit, mr. grayson, m'going to cum," you warned breathlessly, chin tilting backwards as nolan remained unrelenting at his actions. his left palm rested on the outside of your thigh, gripping the flesh tightly-- the metal of his wedding band burned against your skin.
he groaned at your confession, eyes darting up to your face again. "yeah?" he asked, despite feeling the way your legs vibrated against his head-- thighs practically keeping him glued to your cunt. "cum on my face, sweetheart."
his words pushed you over the edge-- your cunt spasmed uncontrollably against his face and fingers, clenching and unclenching, gripping his digits as if you needed them to survive. your palm flew to your mouth to muffle your moans, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the pure intensity of your orgasm. even as nolan gently finger-fucked you through it, it still was profound. cum and slick seeped from your pussy, and when nolan pulled his face from your core, the bottom half of his face glistened.
"you think that was good?" he questioned, sitting up ever so slightly to undo his belt buckle-- the sound of his metal belt clasp ringing throughout your yard.
you nodded, voice far too hoarse from your screaming to respond in words. when you felt nolan's palms on you again, you hadn't expected him to flip you with such ease-- but suddenly you were laying on your stomach, blades of grass digging into your flesh.
there was silence for a few moments-- before you felt nolan's cock head prod your cunt open. his shadow casted over your frame easily, and his chest was to your back; nolan pressed a chaste kiss to the skin right behind your ear, his voice gravelly as he spoke. "wait til' i split you open with my cock; then you'll see what's 'good.'"
it was nearly impossible to fight back the moan that spilled from your lips at the filth of his words-- the late summer heat doing nothing in aiding your quickly over-heating system.
before you knew it, the familiar burn of being streeetched open shocked your core. nolan's breathing grew ragged against your neck as he slowly pushed himself inside of your weeping cunt, every vein and every ridge of his dick tearing you apart.
a sob tore itself from your lips-- nolan was big.
"i know," he cooed, peppering kisses along your neck in an attempt to soothe you, "you're doing good-- such a big, strong girl taking-- haah-- this fat cock,"
"you're too big," you cried, legs shaking already-- you felt fatally full of him, your pussy being stretched beyond anything you had ever experienced before.
"you can take it." nolan reassured steadily, continuing to sheath himself further within your cunt. "fuck-- you're so tight," he groaned. "strangling my dick, my pretty girl,"
when his hips finally met the plush of your ass, nolan bottoming out inside you-- both of you gasped. it felt like he was in your throat--! nolan's cock twitched, and your name fell from his mouth like an expletive.
birds fluttered above you both, hot sun beating down onto nolan's back as he finally began to fuck you. it was gentle at first, his hips rocking as you adjusted to the size of him-- the pain that was just so fucking good-- before you started to moan out of pleasure. when nolan heard your tiny gasps and mewls, watching your hands desperately claw at the earth beneath you-- his pace quickened.
nolan grunted against the shell of your ear, cock bullying your insides. "never been fucked like this, have you, sweet girl?"
you shook your head no, eyes rolling into the back of your skull-- his dick making you see stars.
"that's right," he moaned softly, hips snapping into your ass with unabashed fervor. "god-- you should've just asked for this sooner, baby,"
when you gasped, craning your neck to look back at him-- you saw beads of sweat dripping down his temple, landing obscenely onto your back. "w-what?" you questioned, in between moans.
"do you think i-- hah-- haven't seen the way you've been looking at me since you moved in?" he asked, grinding his cock into your g-spot, v-line resting crudely against your ass. "knew you wanted me the second you saw me. but-- such a sweet girl you are-- you didn't do anything 'cause you knew i'm married,"
you moaned whoreishly feeling his cock jump and pulse within you, your own cunt responding by squeezing him-- holding him in, unwilling to let go-- firmly.
"s'okay," nolan murmured against your skin, cock throbbing as he rammed himself in and out of you over and over and over again. "i can take care of you," he groaned, sentence interrupted by a deep moan, "i can take care of this pussy."
"mr. grayson, fuck--! m'coming again," you squealed, orgasm crashing over you with such ferocity, you swear you black out. your pussy spasms and twitches, milking nolan's cock, your entire system drowning in bliss.
the older man swore, forehead pressing to the crown of your head mere moments later-- his thrusting simply uncontrolled and unabashed. wave after wave of your pleasure, nolan made sure to fuck you as deep and as hard as he could before pulling out and coating your ass in his cum.
hot ropes of cum shot all over your ass, and nolan groaned deeply, feeling his release entirely coating the plush of your behind.
"god," he swallowed, bringing a palm to your ass to smear his cum all over your skin. you're still far too cock-drunk to speak, head pressing into the ground of your back-yard lazily. "you were so good for me, sweetheart," you hear nolan coo, although his voice grows distant as he stands; the sound of his belt being done up makes you blink up at him hazily.
nolan stands, looking over your fucked-out form; his eyes squint, like he's burning the image into his memory-- unwilling to let it ever disappear. he bends down after a while to grab your panties and shorts, adjusting and moving your legs to hike them past your hips once again. the man gives a simple pat to your now covered ass, before standing again.
"i'll fix your lawn-mower for you; it shouldn't take me long," he speaks casually, as if he didn't just fuck you into oblivion. his grasp on the metal handle is sturdy, confident. "you let me know if you need help with anything else though, sweetheart," nolan says, pushing your lawn-mower towards your back-yard gate with ease. "that's what neighbors are for, right?"
PLUVOiA 25’ ® - masterlist
loren's thots: give me this senior citizen RN bro................ debbie better than me idk how she only had one baby w him cs i woulda had like 26. also wooo kinktober day 1 smashed i hope yall liked this dilf dedicated day
his hands are in your hair, pulling gently at the roots— as if he’s trying to fuse your mouths together off of sheer lust and willpower alone. your tongues slide against the other’s with an inappropriate amount of greed, and your lips have practically gone raw; kissed plump.
MARK GRAYSON moans around your tongue, whimpers filing into your mouth neatly; like it’s his best kept secret, how impossibly good you make him feel.
you’re gasping as he pulls away, lips suctioning themselves to your jawline and throat— “mark,” a shudder rakes through your frame— and all he can reply is with a breathless,
“i know, baby.”
his voice vibrates against your skin and suddenly mark’s hands are in slipping down the expanse of your neck and back— resting idly on the plush fat of your hips and ass, squeezing and molding the flesh to fit perfectly within his palms. he groans at the feeling of you, lips traversing upwards again to meet your mouth.
you whine— it’s all you can do, pathetic and utterly whipped— and your own fingers entangle themselves within mark’s pretty jet black hair. scratching against his scalp, he moans. mark uses his hips to push you into the nearest surface: a wall, a counter-top, a couch edge, his bed— it doesn’t matter because all mark grayson has realized he needs is you.
hips flush, you can feel the pulse of his clothed cock— even beneath the fabric of his boxers and jeans. he ruts into you once, gentle, testing the waters.
and he gasps when you match him, your own legs falling open desperately in an attempt to soothe the aching throb of your needy cunt— craving only the body of mark upon her, whether it be his fingers or his tongue or his dick.
you’re both still kissing. still sucking feverishly at the skin of the other, licking at the junction where jaw meets neck, spitting into mouths because the messier it is the better.
it’s only when mark drags a hand forwards and in between both of your bodies— palming the hot, greedy plush of your pussy do you finally peel off of the man (a string of saliva keeping you crudely attached).
“mark,” you repeat, a certain agency tainted by lust lacing the word.
he grins a lopsided kind of smile; pink flooded across his cheeks, nose, and the tips of his ears. “whaaat?” mark questions slyly, paying no mind to the fact that he’s still got his hand over your cunt.
( as if he’s not so hard it hurts. )
the urge to roll your eyes almost wins over the absolute ache you have for him. “you know what.” you say shortly. patience has never been your strong suit.
mark hums. “maybe i just want you to say it.”
this time, you really do roll your eyes. “m’so horny, mark. jus- just get to it,” leaning forwards, you attempt to kiss him.
mark grins, tilting his head softly to shift the landing of your kiss to the corner of his mouth instead of straight-on. “oh,” he sighs happily, fingers toying now with the waistband of your pants, “i know, baby.” the repetition from earlier makes your gut flip, heat radiating in waves from your pussy now. “me too.”
the confession makes your cunt clench around nothing; it craves his fingers, it craves his dick, it craves anything inside of it please. “mark,” you choke out.
fat digits break past the confinements of your pants and dip into your panties— and you hear mark hiss upon feeling how drenched you are.
“my baby’s so soaked from a little kissing, huh?”
your hips buck forwards, grinding yourself down onto his fingers as he finds your clit easily— rolling precise n’ tight circles, just how you like it.
the feeling of mark’s fingers from his free hand trailing down the length of your arm make you shiver— goosebumps raising and neck hairs standing. when they stop at your wrist, you glance upwards at him.
big brown eyes still trained on where his hand disappears into your pants, mark guides your own towards the zipper of his jeans. “baby,” he whispers, so desperate in comparison to the way he was talking to you mere moments before, “can you touch me too? please?”
you’re nodding before he can even finish his begging properly, and his fingers barely stutter at your clit.
“thank you,” he gasps, “want you to feel how hard you make me— jus’ from a little kissing.”
loren’s thots: i will do the taglist for this when i have access to my laptop, fret not babes. i was just thinking of dada and had to write SUM immediately 🤤
im so serious is anybody a witch. can somebody cast a spell on this white boy i #need. no like im not joking i need affirmations, i need spells, i need... whatever yall got. im posting this on main not even my spam thats how serious this is i need traction.
this is a good spell btw i need him in love with me by tonight. maybe by the end of the week ill give yall that....
but im deadass i dont think ive ever been so locked in and serious about needing something. this is TUMBLR i know yall witchy bitches are out there HELP A GIRL OUT PLEASE! no like deadass comment or dm me ik yall are here
i was re-reading ur mark grayson complicated series and was listening to Complicated by Avril Lavigne and it had me in my feelings lowkey 😭
sounds like misery, misery, and more misery. i pray you're alright LMAO cause sometimes im thinking of ideas for how i want complicated to go and get all the way up in my own feelings too like this shit is serious !! 😭😭😭😭
i wrote it once listening to supermodel by sza. yeah wrap it up.
good news: i am (very slowly) working on a tim piece i think yall will love. a few weeks ago an anon dropped a req and whew………. what a fitting way for pluvoia to make her return, lemme just say that.
i also am working on something else i am very excited to announce! i am chipping away at it bit by bit, and will drop what it is soon enough. stay tuned!!!! what i will say though is that it’s a bit different from what you guys are used to from me.. but i hope that yall will check it out, at the very least <3
keep dropping ideas / reqs in my inbox!! i love hearing what you guys have to say. i apologize for my absence, life has been wild. truly i think i have writer’s curse or smth…. but no matter. i love yall and will keep it pushing (very very slowly gulp)
Would it bother u if someone re-made your “COMPLICATED” text series but with different characters??
yes.
lol sorry i’m just unsure of what possibly “remade” could constitute because OBVIOUSLY i didn’t come up with friends with benefits and complicated relationships… but i think you mean the same events occurring like reader is best friends with person A, who we watch find another significant other and begin to replace reader with and then reader finds person B to get with and person A hears about it and the relationship with both A and B (and subsequently company) implodes. like no i didn’t coin that but im pretty proud of what i’ve done and would be ticked if someone copied my tropes / events under the guise of a remake.
sorry friend, but if you or others were thinking of doing that then the answer is no. if your smau happens to resemble mine unintentionally (as in, you didn’t go in thinking of mine) then that’s different!! but going in thinking: “hmm let me remake complicated” …no thanks.
i hope you can see where i’m coming from!! ^^ if this wasn’t what you meant, or would like to clarify something don’t hesitate to dm me or send another ask.
hey have you ever done a collab fic? i have this idea where bruce and talia are having relationship problems and they rant separately to their long time best friend reader (who actually made them meet each other back in the day) and reader, who is just so fucking tired of being a messenger pigeon who also has her own non-billionaire real world problems (some dark themes here… comes with living in gotham tbh) so she just crashes out and screams at them to just fuck it out? but they just can’t? so she helps them?
im rlly awkward at writing smut let alone a threesome and immediately thought of you and how talented yoh are at it (esp since today i read adult for the 10th time)
i wrote this anonymously in case i get fucking rejected so it doesnt become embarrassing lolll
hiii baby!! do nawttt be embarrassed, i like this idea
no i have not done a collab fic before, and id be interested to see what else (besides what you’ve written in this ask) that entails with you specifically; pls dm me!! <3
if anyone else would like to pitch collab fic ideas, plsplspls do not hesitate to ask me omg?? i love yall and am more than open to try doing things together xx
COMPLICATED ── .✦ texts with mark grayson. | previous parts here.
includes:: smau, fem!reader, fwb!mark grayson, bestfriend!mark grayson, tw situationship!! /hj, allusions to ptsd / being assaulted, mentions of difficulty eating, mentions of debbie, mentions of anissa; MUST READ PREVIOUS PARTS FOR THIS SMAU TO MAKE SENSE.
--♱
extras:: if it wasn't clear, we switch to mark's pov near the end; his contact for reader is 'my goat.' the pfp is random, sorry lol i had a hard time choosing one that could remain ambiguous for all types of readers >.< also to clarify if anyone's confused, reader is a civillian and, besides being friends with eve and rex (well.... maybe not anymore) and KNOWING of that world-- she has no real connection or understanding of it; hence her reaction to the attack.
--♱
loren's thots:: i reached flow state writing this and it made me realize how long ive been away sooo i (once again) apologize for my absence. i have HELLA lore tho,,, if anyone's interested........... let me know the direction you want to see the rest of this series go in!! should dear reader forgive mark in the next part? should he grovel some more? should something entirely different happen???? you let me know!!!!! xx
--♱ main m.list. | tag list.
what have i been up to? first it was midterms… followed by reading week (in which, no reading was done…. i have discovered i reallyyy do not want to ever touch tequila again tho)
and now i’m chilling!! trust i have not forgotten about you all. i love and miss my babes. how have all of yall been doing in the mean time?
hey loren! How are you, lovely? I wanted to change up my intro post a bit, and I NEEDED to ask— how did you get the gradient effect on your text?
hii baby!! i’m alrighttt, quite busy unfortunately with life >.< how are you??
sorry i didn’t respond when you sent this in!! when i say i haven’t been on tumblr i mean it lol a girl has had a lottt going on.
for my gradient text, i followed this tutorial right here. i think this lovely individual has done a great job at explaining it, so hopefully its pretty easy for you to follow ^^ i follow the exact same steps as them.
i hope everyone else is doing well!! again, sorry for my absence. i’m 1/4 midterms done as of right now and miss writing. alas, exam season will come to a temporary close until finals soon, so stay tuned for that <3
this aesthetic gives me y2k rich baddie and I’m here 4 it <3 also, I read your dick grayson breeding kink fic please put this in an iv it’s exquisiteeeeee
I’m noah btw!
hii cutie !!
haha thank youuu i’m glad u enjoyed it ^^ and omg tysm lol i rly want a diff theme rn…….. except im NOT good w visuals so ummm they take me like a million and one years... of which i do not have atm which sucks so… oops
i love you all to bits, and am so so so grateful for all the support you guys continue to shower me with even tho i’m not the most consistent writer lol. it means a lot, and every single positive thing that yall have to say sticks with me and geniunely has me grinning ear to ear all day lol so thank you!!!!!!!
if you are in university or college you, unfortunately, know what time of year it is again. midterms. so i fear there won’t be much on my end, (not that that’s any different than normal…🌚) but i thought id give you guys a heads up. continue to chat with me or send me asks!! i know i dont respond to a bunch, but please when i say i see every one i really really do. you all make my day.
like i say with every milestone, thank god for fanfiction!!!!
jason's hands travel the expanse of your skin, sturdy and almost scorching, in a desperate attempt to commit the way your body feels underneath his palms to memory. there's not a beauty mark left unseen, nor a scar left unkissed as he presses his lips to your frame, so delicate, so weary; as if you're something of an indescribable worth to him he can't bare even the thought to harm.
a low, simmering heat buzzes within his veins, the pliable fat of your cheeks so utterly soft it almost hurts--! it prods at something innate and undeniable at his gut; it whispers incessantly in his ear and sparks underneath his fingertips as he traces your brow bone.
the only other thing so demanding of the man has been pain; something only time has taught him to become ignorant of, something so jarring and unwavering there seems to be no match--
except you. which is impossibly foreign and terrible thing, jason thinks at first, because how could his lover, his entire universe-- be akin to the agony that flashes ceremoniously through his figure?
he knows the exact grit of concrete meeting your cheekbone. he understands the grim nature of bones twisting in ways they shouldn't, of joints creaking unsteadily and the way pierced flesh screams angrily as it weeps maroon.
jason todd knows pain like its his second language-- and has learned, by now, how to ignore the uproar of protests his body yelps along with it. pain has taught jason that, in an odd sense, he is still alive. it has taught him that there suddenly is something worth coming home to, and that persevering through blows and punches will reward him tenfold. pain has become an unusual comfort to jason; and suddenly his adoration to you-- mind, body and soul-- and this terribly addictive infliction upon his frame makes sense.
the absolute and irrefutable sensation that rattles his bones by caressing your scalp, or holding your waist so tightly in his hands is the same adrenaline that surges through him when someone tries to fight him.
it brings the same sort of crooked grin to his face, one cheek dimpling and ever so slightly stained canines flashing; except-- and this is something that still confuses him-- there's no immediate sting or flash that comes with someone attacking.
there's only you. melting into his touch, your own smile blooming softly across your face because look at your boy. so gentle, so careful, so in love it looks like it hurts.
but little do you know it does hurt. jason's heart clenches and twists when your bodies part, his hands tingling a cruel sort of cold at the absence of you. his irritability becomes rampant whenever he's not with you, leading to migraines he can't seem to shake, and they hurt so bad-- he just wants to be with his baby again.
this, however, is a kind of pain that jason welcomes; unabashedly, and with open arms-- because he believes its a certain sort of pain that sprouts from worship. a distinct sensation built from love.
love.
jason loves you so much it hurts. but he can't say it-- the words get caught in his throat, meshing messily upon his tongue, scratching and getting cut on his teeth before they can even come out. those three words bring the worry that comes with pain that jason has tried so hard to ignore, the one he thinks he's mastered-- until gotham is awfully cold and biting, until his body sobs and aches for him because he has no tears left to cry.
until he's scared he's going to die.
because saying he loves you is so incredibly permanent-- and that isn't to say that jason's love isn't undying-- but to put a name, to form the words and say them, spit them out-- is petrifying. the thought: what if i don't make it home? replaying after every abandoned attempt at professing his love verbally for you.
jason can't say he loves you, and he truly wishes he could. but when you're known for ruining a good thing (just as he had done his family), jason doesn't dare take the chance.
so jason opts to touch you like you're extraordinary, his fingers whispering soft affirmations along your jaw, his big hands saying more than he ever could as he rubs them into your back. he wills your body to his memory so his unwavering commitment to you comes to him as he stares at his hands-- who have done so much irreparable damage, they might as well be permanently stained-- and longs for you. so his repenting for his sins isn't for nothing; the ghostly feeling of your body encasing jason's, intertwining beneath the sheets of your bed, moves to the forefront of his mind.
jason touches you wholly every time he's given the chance-- because he's unsure and so unbelievably scared that every time will be his last.
and what type of man, he thinks, is jason if he goes down without having told his soulmate he doesn't love them entirely?
jason welcomes pain, in whatever form it's bestowed upon him in-- for it all gives some sort of meaning to his life. they write words, sentences, paragraphs to his actions; act like reminders, allusions, metaphors, to the type of man jason todd is.
the type inflicted unknowingly by you, though? is the pain that brings jason todd life; the type that ties his story together in a silk bow, the type that acts as the pages, cover to cover-- and the dedications. the pain that keeps his lungs filling with air every morning, the pain that has him, grown and large and entirely too giddy in awaiting your return home as the sun sets.
the pain of jason todd loving you so much, it is agonizing.
and somehow, despite all of this, is truly not painful at all.
loren's thots: omg u guys i havent put author's notes at the end of my works in a long time #throwback. but!! i hope u enjoyed this little drabble thing? im sorry its not that long and also that its not porn siiigh im sorry :// but i was just in a very jason-y mood so why not. and also, THANK YOU FOR 3K that is insane. i love u all mwah mwah
