#DO THAT. THAT IS WAY BETTER THAN NOTHING.

[angelfic]

jason todd x reader

warnings — mentions of size/body image, jason being insecure… and also sexy. also this is unedited as per usual. other than that, nothing!

a/n; im gonna bite his bicep like that’s all i have to say. enjoy <3

JASON TODD is huge.

the man is over 6 feet of pure muscle so it doesn’t matter how tall you are, he’s bigger than you and he’s very aware of it.

when he’s red hood, being so large is a tactical advantage. he feels strong and in charge and practically unbeatable.

when he’s jason, he feels uncomfortable and noticeable and that’s the last thing he wants or needs. he doesn’t stop working out, because not only does he need something physical to relieve his stress, but he also can’t afford not being jacked as fuck. how the hell else is he supposed to be as scary as he is as red hood.

instead, he overcompensates by wearing darker colours, slightly oversized hoodies, not always standing up at his full height. it doesn’t do that much, the sheer size of him is a little hard to fully hide, but it makes him feel a little better.

when you come into the picture, things slowly start to change.

every time he hugs you, it’s instantly a mood booster for you because of how safe it feels with his arms wrapped around you, shielding you from the world for a few minutes. the way you sigh and melt into the hug has him smiling, a little shyly, as he holds you closer.

whenever you need him to get you something off a high shelf, he happily obliges and loves feeling useful. more than that, he loves how you always thank him by gently running a hand down his chest. “what would i do without you?” you say, sincerely, because you know he needs to hear it sometimes. and when you drop a kiss to his forearm as he sets the object down, he’s suddenly glad that he’s taller than you and he starts standing a little straighter.

the first time you hold up his hand against yours to compare sizes, you find yourself grinning at the difference. jason finds himself thinking about how small your hand is instead of how large his own is. and when you interlock your fingers with his, that’s all he’s focusing on.

sometimes, when your eyes are locked on your phone as you’re walking the busy streets of gotham and letting jason guide you around with your hand in his, he’s having to grab your waist to stop you bumping into someone or something. “careful,” he mutters, but his mind has gone blank and all he’s thinking about is his large hands around your waist and his pulse is racing. he feels like a creep until you turn around to give him a sheepish smile and thank him, placing your hands on his to keep them around your waist. he doesn’t miss the way you’re glancing down and biting your lip.

with jason around, you never have to do any heavy lifting, but of course you’re going to try sometimes. when you buy a cute new coffee table and it arrives when he’s out on patrol, you physically can’t wait to open and buid it. that bit is easy enough, but you find yourself cursing when you realise you stupidly built it on the other side of the room. “uhm, what do you think you’re doing?” jason asks, leaning in the doorway, red hood helmet in between his arm. you’re breathing heavily, arms pinned awkwardly at your sides as you were trying a new approach of throwing your body weight against the table to shift it. you slump, looking up at him with a pout.

“it’s heavier than i thought,” you admit. jason crosses the living room in two giant strides.

“you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he says, lifting the entire thing with both hands on either side and effortlessly placing it in front of the couch. he looks at you for approval in case you want it elsewhere and finds that you’re staring at him, slack jawed. he frowns, crossing his arms over, vigilante suit still on. “what…?”

“that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you say, shamelessly. he grins, shaking his head at the way you’re completely serious, but the blush on his cheeks gives him away. “no, seriously, you need to run before i pounce on you.”

his favourite thing is your habit of falling asleep on him when you’re watching tv and he often needs to pick you up to take you to bed. sometimes, you start to stir, halfway to the bedroom and you sleepily blink up at him before wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “you’re so strong,” you mumble against his shoulder, your voice soft with drowsiness. jason’s heart clenches.

jason starts standing at his full height just so he can see you craning your neck to look at him, giving him the excuse to lift you up onto the counter which often results in you wrapping your legs around his waist and engaging a make out session.

he starts to wear t-shirts instead of large hoodies when he goes to the gym, just so he can hear you wolf whistle as he walks to the door, running over to kiss him goodbye and giving his biceps a squeeze.

day by day, jason finds himself more comfortable with just being him. and he’s even happier than he gets to be himself with you.

a/n cont.; the red hood mask stays ON during sex

[sylusismybby]

Husband Sylus loves to take his time when he is eating you out, his hands are so gentle yet so rough as they spread your legs. He places kisses all over your breasts before his mouth moved lower to your stomach, his tongue presses against your skin and he licks down to your hips before placing a slight bite there, leaving a little mark for days to follow. His red eyes were on your face the whole time, he didn't look away once, enjoying how you squirmed and moaned under his every move. Once he finally reaches your heat, he places a kiss over your clothed sex making a slight whine leave your lips, he loved teasing you. "What's wrong, kitten? Are you getting impatient?" Your thighs are his next victim, he presses a few bites on your plush flesh and then kisses up to your pussy again. "Just say the words and I'll give it to you."

You bite your lip before answering. "Please Sylus, please.." Oh how he loved that sound from your mouth, he almost growled at that, his head lowered again and his teeth bit into the fabric of your panties swiftly taking them off of your legs. Sylus spreads you again, you're fully naked now, fully in his view, just his to deavor and that's exactly what he planned to do. Without a moment more, he dives in, his tongue immediately darting out and licking a stripe up your slit. "You're all wet, kitten." A slight smile appears on his lips and he continues to tease you with a few licks and then he fully let's his tongue wonder. Loud gaps is what he gets out of you, his mouth is working relentlessly on your pussy, sucking and licking everywhere. He moans against your core, his hips griding against the sheets as he eats you out. Sylus wanted nothing more than to be buried deep inside of you but he loved pleasing you just as much. "You taste so good, sweetie."

He pulls away for a second, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your pussy, his red eyes look between your thighs. "My pretty wife." Whispering to himself, Sylus goes back in, this time his mouth is more lewd. His mouth finds your clit and you moan, hands tugging onto his white hair, hips bucking against his face and he appreciates it all. "Good girl, kitten. Just like that." Fuck, he loved how you tasted, he loved how you reacted to him, he loved you. Letting go of your clit, his fingers are digging into your thighs, he moves lower, his tongue teasing your hole. The wet noises of his mouth against your core echo throughout the room, your moans grow louder and you can feel that warmth stirring in your lower belly. Your hands move from his hair to the sheets, gripping the soft black material as Sylus continues to pleasure you in all the right ways.

"Mhhh, are you gonna cum for me?" The way he mumbles against your pussy sends waves all throughout your body, the pure bliss is pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus noticed the change in your reactions, the way your pussy twitched as his mouth and tongue worked on you, he would frame a picture of you on his wall like this. "I'll take that as a yes." He chuckles kissing your folds before spreading them with his fingers to get an even better angle of you. His tongue licks in between your wet folds, he almost moans at your taste, hips griding against the sheets, his cock is painfully hard. However, your pleasure is his first priority. "Sylus! I am gonna-mgh!" Your legs starts shaking, they threatened to close against his head but he held you open. "I know kitten, cum for me. Let it all out." And you do, your eyes roll back, a loud moan of his name escapes you. Your husband doesn't stop, he laps up all of you, grunting as you cum against his face. If he could, he was stay all day between your pretty thighs, after all, that's what husband's are for in his mind, to please and devote themselves to thier wife fully.

[enviedear]

thinking about jason todd finally becoming a family man. a thing he never truly imagined for himself, never let himself imagine. suddenly he’s got a kid on the way and his fuckin’ motorcycle and your ancient ass car aren’t going to cut it. so now he’s out with you, shopping for the most father-like car you two can find. he’s not used to safe vehicles, even in his own youth.

he's always been a man that subscribed to speed, to thrill, to scraping by with just a cocky smirk and a devil may care attitude that expertly shields the far softer crux of himself. a safe car—one with good mileage and enough cup holders—wasn’t something he’d ever imagined himself shopping for. but here he is, standing next to you in a dealership lot, staring at a lineup of SUVs and sedans with an expression that’s somewhere between disbelief and resignation.

“i feel like i’m betraying myself just by being here.” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes flitting over the sensible, family-friendly options. “i mean, a fuckin’ minivan, babe? this is what my life has come to?”

you can’t help but laugh, hooking your arm through his and leaning into his side. “no one said we had to get a minivan, jay. but…maybe something with four doors—and airbags that actually work.”

“you’re really cutting into my image here.” he teases, though his hand falls to rest on your back, steady and warm. there’s a quiet shift in his tone when he adds, “but i guess i’m not just buying for me anymore, huh?”

he glances at you then, at the way you’re glowing in a way that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun overhead. his hand lingers on your back, sliding down to your hip as his lips twitch into something soft. it’s a look that says more than he ever could out loud—that he’s trying, that he wants to be the man you need him to be. for you. for the baby. for this whole new life he’s never let himself dream of, but now wants so desperately to protect.

you squeeze his arm. “well, you know what they say. nothing’s cooler than being a parent.”

“oh, sure.” he snorts. “because every kid wants to say their old man drives a…what is this, a fuckin’ toyota rav4?”

you laugh again, and it’s the kind of sound that grounds him, makes all the self-doubt and second-guessing fade into something bearable, burdens vanquished. he watches you as you step toward one of the cars, peering through the window at the interior.

“this one’s not so bad!” you say over your shoulder. “looks like it could handle groceries, strollers, maybe even a car seat…or two.”

he follows you, resting his arms on top of the door as he leans in to inspect it with you. “you’re really selling me on this whole ‘dad’ thing, you know that?”

you glance at him, your smile softening. “you’re gonna be really good at it, jay. better than you think.”

he doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you with those steady, blue-green eyes of his. and then, after a second, he nods, jaw tightening like he’s trying to swallow back something thick and emotional.

“yeah,” he agrees quietly. “maybe i will be.”

and for the first time, it all feels real—not just a looming, abstract idea but something solid and tangible. a life, a family, a future he never thought he could have.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

His

Summary: Javi can't get enough of you (aka idk how to summarize this other than it's pwp whoops)

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

Warnings: ... again, this is straight up pwp, unprotected p in v sex, rough(er) sex, breeding kink (I'm sorry!! I'm sorry!! It's physically impossible to not!!), praise kink, big, nasty creampie, cum play, 1 use of daddy and papí (but like, that's the goal), an ass smack, prone bone and the one position from s2e3 of Narcos because I say so!!! also sweet, tooth rotting fluff because I don't know how to write any other way

A/N: She's nothing, if not consistent, your honor 🤠 You'll have to pry Javier Peña and his big, fat breeding kink out of my cold, dead hands before I stop writing about it!!!!!! Figured what better way to break a hiatus than letting the ovulation demons do the lords work for me to post some smut on tumblr dot com, hope y'all enjoy!!!

Never Too Late Masterlist

“Fuck, Javi!” 

The only thing that’s keeping you from waking up your neighbors with the volume of your moans is the way Javi has you pressed against the mattress, muffling the sound of you screaming his name as he pounds into you, over and over. 

You swear he could smell it on you from the second he walked through the door, how you had been craving him all day. Just the thought of him alone was enough to make you ache with unbearable need and want. From the moment he left for work this morning, you were counting down the hours until he got home so you could climb him like a goddamn tree. 

But then again, how can anyone blame you when he’s the one who instigated it in the first place? 

“I swear to god, when I get home, I’m not letting you out of the fucking bed tonight ‘till I knock you up.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise, Javi?” 

“Both.” 

Javi’s always been a man of his word, but with the way he’s fucking you right now, it makes you wonder if he’s ever planning on letting you out of the bed again. 

“That’s it baby girl, let me hear it.” 

You can feel the way the words rumble in his chest, pressed against your back as he fucks into you, deeper and harder with each thrust. The grip around your intertwined fingers tighten, practically melting you into the bed with the weight of his broad body is pinning you down, caging you beneath him. 

Heat is radiating off him, the tacky sheen of sweat pooling where your skin meets, Javi’s hips flushed against the meat of your ass. He’s already got you three orgasms deep, but there’s just something addictive about Javi that always has you begging for more, desperate to cum around his cock over and over again until you have nothing left to give. 

“Oh my god- fuck. Fuck, Javi, I want more baby, please. Fuck me harder- oh fuck-” 

You swear you can feel his smirk creeping into the corners of his cheeks as he kisses your shoulder, relishing in the mess he’s already made you, and yet, you still can’t seem to get enough of him. 

“You want more, hermosa? Let me hear you, baby.” Javi coos, purposely slowing his pace down just enough to make you whimper, quietly laughing to himself at the way he can feel you back your ass up against his hips, trying to keep yourself as full of him as you can. 

“I want it, I want more, baby, please.” You whine, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the devilish grin Javi has plastered across his face. 

“You gonna be a good girl and take everything I have to give you? Let me fill you up until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ stick?” He groans, the thought of fucking himself so deep inside you that nine months from now, he’ll be the reason for your growing family, igniting something indescribably primal in him. 

“Yes! Yes, please, fuck- I’ll take all of it!” 

It’s borderline pathetic how many octaves your voice has climbed as you beg him for more, a pitch and volume so loud and high you nearly startle yourself with your response. You can hear Javi sigh and curse under his breath. You’re not sure if it’s because having you like this drives him crazy, or if having you like this drives him so crazy, he’s worried he’ll bust right then and there if he doesn’t control himself. 

Your response has him shifting behind you, sitting back on his knees and gripping his fingers into the meat of your sides to force your bottom half up, one hand letting go to smack your ass just hard enough for your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. 

You’re not sure how, but the new position has him feeling even fuller, stretching you out to the point of pleasure filled sobs as he starts to pound against your g-spot, each thrust rougher than the last. 

You’re so wet that the sound of him sliding in and out of your cunt is almost as loud as the noise of his skin slapping against yours. That, combined with the lewd panting and moaning heaving from each of your chests, has the room sounding like you could easily give any porno ever produced a run for its money. 

“Love this pussy so fucking much. Always so fucking wet and tight for me. Whose pussy is this, baby?” Javi asks, his once smug demeanor quickly dissipating as he chokes out his question through gritted teeth, so drunk on you he can barely think straight. 

“Yours! Fuck, fuck fuck- It’s yours, Javi.” You sob, fisting at your bedsheets so tightly, you’re convinced it won’t be long until your knuckles turn white. 

“Fucking right, it is. Fuck you so full of me that I knock you up, make sure- mierda- make sure everyone knows you’re all mine. That what you want, Mami?” 

“Yes, y-yes! Oh fuck- yes! ” 

Javi gets one more smack at your ass before he reaches around to scoop you up from your front, draping his arm across your chest to flush it with his back, never letting the pace of his hips falter. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’re positive you’d be limp, so all consumed by pleasure that it’s engulfed every inch of your body. to keep yourself upright. 

His free arm snakes around to find your clit, whimpering as the pads of his fingers rub tight circles around the bundle of nerves. The undeniable tingle at the base of your spine is beginning to build again, the all too familiar clamping of your cunt around Javi’s cock growing tighter by the second. 

You can all but feel him in your stomach, every inch of him sunk as deep as you can take him, backing your ass into him to counter every snap of his hips. You shoot your hand behind you, digging your nails into whatever part of his thigh you can find to brace yourself on as he fucks into relentlessly, only egged on by the fact he knows how close you are. 

“You got one more for me, baby?” Javi mewls, nipping at your neck while the hot words of his breath dance across your skin. “One more time before I cum so fucking deep inside you?” 

You’re not sure how you even have the capacity to form words, nodding your head in compliance as you try your best to string together something comprehensible as the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. 

“Y-yes, oh fuck- want you to fill me up. Put a baby in me, please, papí.“ 

“Fuck me.” Javi huffs under his breath, furrowing his brow in an intense focus to keep from fulfilling your request preemptively. “Cum for me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock, and I promise I will.” 

It only takes a few more frantic strokes before you’re collapsing around him, orgasm shooting through your body with such radiating pleasure, you’re not even sure you’re on this earth anymore. The way he’s pinning your nearly limp body to his, pounding into you relentlessly to chase his own high is almost too much, but you’ll take it. You’ll take everything he has to give because it means that you’re his. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi coos, sliding the hand that had been rubbing at your clit up your chest, stopping to wrap around your jaw, just firm enough to dip your head back to rest against his shoulder. “My good fucking girl.” 

His head is buried in the crook of your neck, pants and moans muffled against your skin, growing louder with each snap of his hips, each one more reckless and sloppy than the last. You can barely make out the words he’s mumbling into your ear, his brain just as jumbled as yours as he nears his finish line. 

“I have so much fucking cum for you. Gonna fuck it so deep in you, it’ll- oh fuck- it’ll fucking take. Fill up this pussy with every last- shit- every last fucking drop. Fuck!” 

It’s a low groan that rumbles in his chest first, followed by a strangled whimper that dies somewhere in the back of his throat as his hips stutter, hot ropes of his spend spilling inside of you while he cums. You know he doesn’t dare let a drop go to waste, that he’ll keep his cock stuffed inside your cunt until you’ve milked him of every ounce he has to give. 

And fuck, he wasn’t lying when he said plenty to give. 

You can’t even tell where your body ends and his begins, melded together as one, his length nestled so deep inside you, you can feel all of him pulsing while his seed overflows, leaking out pussy and dripping down your thighs. You know there’s nothing more Javi wants than to keep every last drop inside your cunt, but the best he can do with how much he has to give is to keep fucking it into you, forcing hips to thrust deeper in sync with the heavy heaves of his chest until you’re all but sobbing. 

“It’s- fuck- it’s so much, Javi, fuck-” You whimper, jaw slack at the slick, sticky mess pooling around the base of his cock. 

“Jesus, fuck- I know, baby. I know, but you’re taking me so fucking well.” He coos, softly kissing your neck and shoulder before shifting your body to lay you down, somehow remembering to grab a pillow from his side of the bed to prop under your hips before your back hits the mattress. 

You hiss at the loss of Javi inside you, the sharp breath quickly replaced by a gasp as you the next plop of cum dripping out of your hole caught by Javi’s fingers, sliding up your soaked folds to gently press back into your cunt. He uses the last bit of strength he has to part your legs just enough to make room for his head, leaning down just enough to pepper soft kisses to your clit, trailing up your stomach and chest until he collapses next to you. 

The both of you lay there for a moment in silence, nothing left to fill the room but the post-orgasmic haze you’ve left behind, catching your breath as you try to let your brain sync back up to your body. 

“Javi… Javi, holy fuck.” You huff, the corners of your cheeks turning upwards in a cheeky grin as you roll your head to face him, giggling at the wide eyed, fucked out expression his face still can’t seem to shake. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi sighs, shaking his head in disbelief before running his hand through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair, prying them from the damp mat they’ve made on his forehead.  

“You came so hard, Jav.” You softly giggle, scooting close enough to lay your cheek against his chest, smiling as he drapes his arm across your back to pull you in closer. 

“Yeah, I know. Fuck, I haven’t cum that hard in a long time.” Javi smirks, fingers drawing gentle patterns on the warm skin of your back. 

“Trying to knock me up really turns you on that much, huh?” You tease, the two of you laughing like you didn’t already know the answer, or that he couldn’t say the same for you. “It’s hot.” 

“Yeah?” Javi asks, biting down on the plush of his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Mhmmm. You’re already about to be the hottest DILF known to man, makes it that much hotter how badly you want to be a daddy.” 

Even though Javi rolls his eyes at you, trying his best to hide the boyish grin stretched between his cheeks. You snicker at the pink flush of his face, leaning over to leave a lingering kiss on his lips, both your smiles meeting each other’s mouths. 

“Fuck me.” Javi sighs, quietly laughing to himself, carefully brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

“Again? Already? Hate to break it to ya, but I think it’s safe to say you’ve got nothing left in the tank there, Jav.” 

This eye roll makes him grin even harder, supring on your giggles with the ticklish kisses he pecks across your body as payback for your awful joke. 

“You’re such a fucking dork. God, I love you.” 

“Love you more, idiot.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"You're gonna go far"

okay yall this is chapter one! if it sucks or doesn't make sense pls don't hate. might take it down later if i decide i hate it. likes, comments, and reblogs encourage me!!!I brainstormed this pretty fast so it might be messy.

lmk if there's any plot holes! This is the week following the failed patrol and Tiffany taking reader's credit. About 6 to 7 months after Tiffany moved in.

The first day after the incident, you had stayed in your room, nursing the bitter sting of betrayal. You couldn’t even remember the last time they’d acknowledged your existence. Tiffany, of course, was the shining star of the household. While you were holed up in your bedroom, processing the snakebite that had changed everything, Tiffany was out there, winning their favor with her charm, her sweet smiles, and her sugar-coated lies. You spent all night aching and feeling your bones shattering in your skin, feeling your skin peel off, and your teeth sharpen and make your mouth bleed.

The day started with her knocking on your door, her voice dripping with fake concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “I heard what happened last night... but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just walk it off, right? Just a snake bite! You weren't even supposed to be on patrol, Dad said that you can't be part of the team. You're not skilled enough.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. How could you? It wasn’t a matter of walking it off. The venom inside you had begun to manifest, the snake-like power curling through your veins, but Tiffany's words twisted the knife further. You could see the smug look in her eyes as she added, “It’s okay. I’m here now. I know you’re upset, but let’s just move past it. You need some tough love”

You didn’t know what to expect when the transformation took hold that night. One minute, you were trying to cry yourself to sleep the next—your skin tingled, muscles shifting, twisting beneath the surface. The bite on your neck from the damn snake burned like fire, but something deeper, something inside you, urged you to embrace it. Again you felt your mouth burn, your body tingle, your skin shed and a searing pain from the waist down.

As you lay flat against the wall, your hands pressed against the cool surface you couldn’t help but grin, pain was better than numbness. You weren’t just Bruce Wayne's outcast daughter, nor were you the wannabe batgirl, as Stephanie liked to call you, you were something else now, something powerful.

The first time you ejected venom from your fingertips, you almost dropped your phone in surprise. It was cold, sharp, and terrifying in its power. It didn’t make sense. You could feel the agility coursing through you, every muscle in your body aligning with the new capabilities as if your very bones were made for this transformation. This wasn’t you anymore.

The idea of getting even, of showing them all that you weren’t weak or invisible, had always been a fantasy. But now, it didn’t feel like a fantasy. It felt real, solid in a way that left you trembling. You weren’t just going to prove them wrong. You were going to become something they could never ignore again. And they would never see it coming.

But what now? The Batfamily—Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, all of them—had given you nothing but pain and neglect for years. They didn’t understand you, didn’t care to. They couldn’t see past their perfect image of family long enough to see you. Now, with this power, you didn’t need them. You never did.

Except… there was Tiffany.

She was their new perfect darling, their shining star. Every time she took a step into their world, they’d fawn over her, ruffle her hair, praise her as though she could do no wrong. You had tried to be perfect for them, but perfection never got you what you wanted. It never got you love. It never got you acceptance.

She was a liar, a fraud, and she’d ruined your life. You'd tried to warn them, tried to tell them what she really was—what she was doing behind their backs. But they chose to believe her over you. They always did.

So it was time for them to learn. To know what you were capable of.

You wouldn’t hurt them but you would make them understand. You would show them your worth, show them what they had turned their backs on. No more hiding. No more being invisible. You’d be the storm they couldn’t control, the one they couldn’t ignore.

One by one, you would take back everything that was stolen from you.

The next day Bruce didn’t even acknowledge you when he passed you in the hallway. You wanted to tell him about the snake, about the strange scary things going on in your body, of the violent thoughts running through your mind but the words died in your throat in fear of ridicule. You stood there, heart racing, desperately hoping he’d say something, anything, just a hint of recognition. But he didn’t. Tiffany was at his side, her arm linked through his as they strolled past you. She was chattering on about some trivial matter, and you could feel the coldness in Bruce's demeanor. No eye contact. No words. Nothing.

It was as if you weren’t there. It hurt, more than you could have imagined. And yet it wasn't anything new.

Alfred, the one person who might’ve shown you compassion, didn’t even make you breakfast. You waited in the kitchen, hoping for something—anything. But no, Tiffany had already filled the void with her charming demeanor, sitting at the table with Alfred, chatting about some charity event.

You stood there, waiting. Watching. Silent.

Eventually, you turned and left. Alfred hadn't even looked up when you walked out.

Damian.

Your little brother who you tried so hard to bond withhad taken to sneering at you when you crossed paths with more anomosity than usual. His usual arrogance and distaste for you had only intensified. You had caught him once, whispering something to Tiffany about how "pathetic" you were. “Father’s blood runs through me, not through you,” he had muttered under his breath. You had to fight the overwhelming urge to break down right then and there. The venom inside you seemed to thrum in response, as if it recognized the cruel words, feeding off them.

Later, you overheard him tell Tiffany, “You’re far more worthy of being in this family than she’ll ever be.”

Jason, who you once thought of as a brother, the only one who could’ve understood you, had turned his back completely. You had tried to reach out to him and tell him of the pains at night, to apologize for whatever wrongs you’d committed, but all he did was glare at you. A snide comment about how “you wouldn’t know what it means to feel pain” and then he walked away, his back to you as he followed Tiffany down the stairs.

Your heart shattered.

Tim was... absent, but his absence was worse than anything. He made no effort to reach out, barely acknowledging you when you passed by. When you tried to speak with him, to ask how his day had gone, he merely gave you a dismissive shrug and muttered something about needing to “work.” Tiffany, on the other hand, always had time for him. She seemed to be everything you were not—everything they wanted. She was their perfect daughter, their perfect sibling. She was the one who belonged.

You tried to slip into the shadows, but the truth was, you felt like you were already invisible.

You and Duke used to be friends when he first came, till he realized Stephanie was much cooler than you. Maybe you could hang with them in the cave, maybe they could help figure out what was happening to you. Maybe even talk to Barbra and Cassandra!

The Batcave was eerily quiet when you worked up the nerve to enter. You were sitting at a workstation, trying to work up the courage to talk to any of your siblings but your thoughts kept drifting. Tiffany had completely woven herself into the fabric of the team, and everyone else, even Duke, seemed content to ignore you.

You and Duke had once been close. He’d been one of the few people who had ever tried to make you feel like you belonged in the manor. You remembered the late-night conversations, sharing stories and laughter, plotting out plans for how you could prove your worth to the family. But now, every time you glanced in his direction, there was nothing but distance and confusion.

you could feel his presence across the room. He and Tiffany were standing by one of the equipment stations, speaking in hushed tones. You tried to ignore them. It hurt too much to look at Duke, to see how easily he had fallen under Tiffany's spell, how effortless it was for him to ignore you now.

Tiffany was front and center, as usual. Her presence always seemed to command attention, like a star that everyone gravitated toward. You had grown used to the way they all fawned over her, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Duke, you’re up next,” Tiffany called out, a smile playing at her lips. Her voice was sweet, but you could hear the subtle edge beneath it. A tone that made your blood boil. She wasn’t just charming them, she was playing them.

“You know, I’d never say no to a challenge, Tiff.” he said, his voice almost affectionate.

“You’re the best, Duke,” Tiffany purred, clearly pleased.

You glanced at Barbara, hoping for something—a glance, a small acknowledgment—but her eyes were glued to her computer screen. She might as well have been miles away.

Cassandra, as usual, was focused on her training. She hadn’t ever shown interest in you, and today was no different. Her sharp gaze didn’t waver from the sparring targets she was working through, ignoring you entirely.

You sighed, not wanting to add to the already uncomfortable tension in the air. The weight of it was overwhelming. But you couldn’t help but overhear the rest of Duke and Tiffany’s conversation.

“I’m telling you, Duke,” Tiffany was saying with a laugh, “you’ve got this in the bag. You’ve been training for years, they’re never going to see it coming.”

Duke chuckled, clearly reveling in her praise. “Yeah, but I’m still not sure I trust the plan,” he said, glancing at the others. “You really think it’ll work?”

Tiffany’s smile was cold and calculating. “Trust me, it will. I’ve been working on it for weeks, and with your skills, we’ll have it done in no time. Just follow my lead.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up, even if you weren’t sure why you were still trying. You knew they didn’t care, but some part of you still clung to hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d listen. You and Duke were friends, he wouldn't ignore you. You didn't want Tiffany to pressure him into a plan he wasn't sure of.

“Tiffany, why don’t you give Duke some space?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “He might want to work out his own plan, you know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, Duke’s expression darkened, and so did everyone else's. Even Barbra glanced at you.

“Oh, you’re still here?” Tiffany asked, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “I didn’t realize you had any input. I guess it’s cute that you think Duke needs your help.”

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “I’m good, [Y/N]. Really. Tiffany’s got this. Don’t you have some... other place to be?”

Your mouth burned and your bones ached, since when did Duke treat you like this? What right did he have? You were friends, friends aren't mean to friends.

Your fists clench, "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?" You spit out, unusually angry and brave.

His eyes softened for a second but then Duke looked up at you, his gaze colder than you remembered. “It’s not personal, okay? It’s just… you don’t really fit in with the rest of us."

The words felt like a slap in the face. Tiffany was the one with the skills. Tiffany was the one who was flawless. Tiffany was the one who didn’t need to try. Tiffany fit in.

You wanted to scream, to demand an explanation for why you were being discarded like this. You tried, but the words caught in your throat, leaving you silent. Duke wasn’t the person you had once leaned on. He wasn't your friend anymore. you could feel the deep divide between you both now, a gap named betrayal.

Before you could respond, Stephanie, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward. “Come on, (Y/N), don’t waste our time. If you don’t have anything useful to add, just leave. You’ll be better off on your own.”

Your eyes snapped to her. Of all people, you didn’t expect Stephanie to be so blunt. But here she was, her arms crossed and her eyes not even looking in your direction as she spoke.

Tiffany shot Stephanie a glance of approval. “Exactly, Steph. They’ll just slow us down. Maybe you should go back to the kitchen and bake something.”

The words were meant to belittle you, to remind you of the one thing they knew you were good at, baking, and nothing more. You felt your fists clench, the sting of her words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

Duke’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. His silence spoke volumes. You could feel the finality of it, the way the space between you both had grown too big to bridge.

“You don’t have to listen to them,” Tiffany continued, her voice smooth, "You’re not part of the team. Just let it go. It’s better for everyone.”

Tiffany’s manipulation was sickening. But what hurt the most was that Duke was going along with it. He had always been the one person who had made you feel like you mattered in this cold, detached family. And now? He was treating you like you were nothing. He had chosen her over you. The reality of it hit you like a t train.

“Fine,” you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, ignoring the burning of your eyes and the hole in your chest.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the Batcave, the cold stares of Tiffany, Duke, Stephanie and Cassandra burning into your back. no matter how hard you had tried, how many times you had bent over backwards to prove your worth, it would never be enough for them.

The final blow came that night on the 7th night after the incident and the day after Duke's betrayal.

Tiffany had won. You could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She won their trust, their love. Now, she was going to make sure you were out of the picture for good.

You overheard Bruce and Tiffany speaking in his study, a room you were never allowed to enter.

“I think it’s for the best,” Tiffany said, her voice sweet, almost too sweet. “She’s so... incompetent. Maybe a change of scenery will help her grow.”

“Maybe,” Bruce replied, his voice cold, indifferent. “But it’ll also keep her away from Gotham for a while. From the family.”

“It’ll be better for everyone,” Tiffany continued. “She’s been so distant lately, and honestly, I don’t think she fits in here. She doesn’t belong.”

“I’ll have Alfred make the arrangements tomorrow,” Bruce said, his tone final. “It’ll be good for her. A change of pace. A chance to learn discipline.”

And just like that, your life as you knew it ended.

You would be sent away to a boarding school in New York City. They didn’t even give you the courtesy of telling you themselves. Tiffany had already manipulated the situation, convinced them that it was for the best. That you didn’t belong. That you needed to be removed from the family.

Later That Night

You sat in your room, fists clenched, eyes burning with tears you refused to shed. You could hear Tiffany’s laughter echoing in the halls as she paraded through the manor, a crown on her head that wasn’t hers.

You weren’t going to cry. Not anymore. You weren’t going to beg for their attention. For their love. No. You had something far more dangerous now. Something that didn’t need them. Something that would show them all just how wrong they were. The venom in your veins burned brighter now. You could feel it coiling around your bones like a living, breathing thing. You would prove them all wrong. You would go to New York and never look back.

Ok I tried my best guys be nice! I just had so many ideas and didn't know how to execute them! Send in asks! I wanted to get the plot moving tbh

[ivyues]

Anxious Introductions: Stray Kids’ reactions to their S/O being nervous to meet the members

Bang Chan

Chris had been trying to bring up the subject of you meeting his members for weeks, but you always seemed to shy away whenever he mentioned it.

"Hey, they’re just as nervous to meet you as you are to meet them," he says softly.

You nod, taking a deep breath. "I just know how much they mean to you, and I want it to go well."

His smile grows warm, and he leans in to hug you. "You mean so much to me too. They’ll see how amazing you are."

The day you finally meet them, he keeps an arm around your waist, introducing you like it’s the proudest moment of his life. The members greet you with wide smiles, Chris whispering, "See? Told you they'd love you."

Lee Know

As you fix your hair nervously for the third time, your boyfriend smirks from his spot on the couch. "You’re this anxious to meet them? I should be offended" he teases, his tone light. "You're going to be fine. You already survived Han Jisung."

What you don’t know is that Lee Know had already had a talk with the other members earlier. He had casually, but firmly, told them, Don’t scare her off. It wasn’t a full-on threat, but the members knew better than to push their luck.

When you walked into the dorm, you’re surprised by how calm everyone seems. They greet you warmly, none of the overwhelming antics Han had warned you about.

"See? Nothing to worry about," Lee Know whispers smugly, his shoulder warm against yours. Though, over the course of your next visits, the true nature of their antics slowly revealed itself to you.

Changbin

Changbin glances over at you in the car and notices you biting your nails, a telltale sign of your nerves. He doesn’t say anything at first, just reaches over to gently take your hand away from your mouth.

"Hey, don’t do that," he says softly, intertwining your fingers with his. "You’re way too amazing to be this nervous."

You give him a small, shy smile, but he’s not done. "Seriously, you’re smart, funny, beautiful, and my mom likes you already – and she hasn’t even met you. The members don’t stand a chance; they’re going to love you."

When you arrive at the dorm, he keeps his hand on the small of your back as he opens the door.

"Guys!" he calls dramatically, a wide grin on his face. "Meet my amazing girlfriend!"

The sudden loud introduction makes you shrink back slightly, your cheeks flushing as you glance at the group of curious but welcoming faces looking your way.

Hyunjin

As you nervously bite your lip, your mind races about what to expect from meeting Hyunjin's members. The more you think about it, the more anxious you become. Hyunjin notices, his eyes softening. He gently takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey, it's okay," he says in a soothing voice, guiding you toward the door. "They’re really excited to meet you, and they’re not as scary as you think." He smiles, his voice low and comforting.

You glance at him, managing a nervous smile. "I just don’t want to make a bad first impression," you admit softly.

He squeezes your hand again. "You’re going to be fine," he reassures you. "Just be yourself."

When you walk inside, the members greet you enthusiastically, but the nervous energy is still radiating off of you. Hyunjin stands close to you, subtly nudges you and, with a playful glint in his eye, whispers, “See? They’re just like me – except a little louder.”

Throughout the evening, he stays by your side, always checking in to make sure you're okay. As the members warm up to you, you start to feel more comfortable, smiling at their funny tendencies.

Han

Han’s excitement is contagious. He’s practically dragging you towards the dorm, rambling about how cool his members are and how cool you are.

"They’re going to love you!"

When you hesitate at the door, he grins mischievously. "Honestly, I’ve already told them everything about you. They probably know you better than I do at this point."

When you give him an awkward smile, he grins. "That means they are propably going to tease me, not you."

The moment you walk in, the members indeed start to playfully tease him. "Finally, we meet the famous girlfriend Han won’t shut up about!" Hyunjin laughs.

You find yourself laughing, making your nerves disappear, as Han dramatically protests, "I didn’t talk that much… okay, maybe I did. But you would too if you had an girlfriend that amazing!"

Felix

Felix notices the way you’re nervously smoothing out your clothes. He gives you a warm hug, his voice soft and soothing. "I know you’re nervous, but you don’t have to be. You’re everything to me, and they’ll see that too."

You glance at him, biting your lip. "I just... I know they’re protective of you, and I get it. You’re so kind, and I don’t want them to get the wrong impression."

He gives you a warm smile. "They’ll love you. How could they not? But if it helps, just focus on me, okay?"

When the door opens and the members’ boisterous voices echo through the hallway, you freeze slightly, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Felix squeezes your hand reassuringly and gently tugs you forward.

"Guys, this is my girlfriend," he says with quiet pride, his voice cutting through the chatter.

Despite your nerves, the members’ smiles and welcoming energy slowly ease the tension. Felix stays close, occasionally brushing your hand with his or sneaking you a small grin.

Seungmin

Seungmin doesn’t say much about your nerves but quietly prepares for it. On the way, he shares a bunch of embarrassing stories about the members to make you laugh.

"Just remember – they’re the weird ones, not you," he says with a small smirk.

When you meet the members, his calm presence feels grounding, like an anchor amidst the unfamiliar chaos. The members immediately start asking you questions and trying to make conversation – partly because they’re genuinely curious about you and partly to tease Seungmin.

He’s surprisingly talkative, steering the conversation to keep things flowing smoothly. Every now and then, he looks over at you with a reassuring smile, silently letting you know he’s there for you. You find yourself relaxing, thanks to his steady presence and subtle encouragement.

I.N

I.N notices your silence as you both approach the dorm, your hands nervously clasped together. He gives your hand a squeeze and flashes you a boyish grin.

"Don’t worry, they’re just a bunch of big kids – except for me, obviously," he says with a teasing tone.

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "You being their baby doesn’t help. If anything, it makes it worse."

He laughs, the sound light and teasing. "Okay, fair. But if I’m their baby, that just means it's a bigger thing that I'm bringing you over. You? You’ll be safe."

He grabs your hand and confidently introduces you, showering you with compliments in front of the members. "See? My girlfriend is amazing!" You can’t help but smile at his infectious energy.

masterlist

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

A Firm Partner

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Lawyer Joel Miller x Female Reader Summary: Mr. Miller needs you to stay late... even if tomorrow is your birthday. Warnings: porn with very little plot, smut, unprotected p in v, office sex, couch sex, desk sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), joel has a filthy mouth, joel carries you and refuses to pull out while doing so, joel eats pussy from the back, probably the best way to ever wake up, law talk (but not a lot, this is an escape), no use of y/n Word Count: 3,400

A/N: Happy birthday dear @ohheypedrito! You are the absolute cornerstone of my Pedro obsession and nothing has been better than sharing in the delulu of him over the past couple of years. I can't believe we've known each other for 20+ years and all it took was Pedro Pascal to become so close. Sometimes I truly don't know how I'd be able to survive without our delulu yap sessions. Thank you for all that you do, and most importantly, being my friend. I wrote this while wearing my TTPD cardigan and listening to our shared delulu Joel Miller songs. 🪿 Thanks to @schnarfer and @mothandpidgeon for their input and always letting me talk about how much @ohheypedrito means to me lol. Please also enjoy the requested nose against clit and playful spank mentions gifted from @schnarfer.

Masterlist

—-

The conference room is full of your coworkers, engaged in hushed conversations with each other as you take your seat at the mahogany table. Joel Miller strides in, your eyes are instantly drawn to him as the room hushes, his mere presence commanding attention.

He settles into the high-backed leather chair at the head of the table, everyone and everything seems to shrink around his presence. Joel’s reputation precedes him, his firm is the most prestigious in Austin. You can hardly believe you landed a position here, fresh out of law school. But you’re here now, sitting mere feet away from the man himself. You admire his broad shoulders filling out his impeccably tailored suit, the dark green color of his shirt highlighting the golden glow of his skin and the deep chocolate brown of his eyes. 

“Good morning everyone,” his deep voice rumbles through the room as he begins to outline the case. You try to pay attention to him, try to focus on the case, but you can’t stop thinking about his plush lips. Would they taste of the strong coffee he’s drinking? How warm are they this morning? You’re mesmerized, watching the way his mouth forms each word, the slight Texas drawl rolling easily out. 

You’re interrupted from your reverie when you hear your last name and look up, your eyes meeting Joel’s. “You’re going to need to stay late with me tonight and get this taken care of.”

You nod, attempting to hide a sly smile as he continues on.

—-

The office fell silent hours ago, the last of your colleagues had long trickled out as the sun set. The only sounds now are distant noises from the city below and the clicking of your heels on the polished floor as you walk down the dark hallway to Joel's office.

You stop at the threshold, taking a quick moment to admire Joel. He’s sitting hunched over his desk, the light of his desk lamp casting him in a golden aura. His dark green shirt, usually crisp and buttoned to perfection, is now softened by the late hour. He’s undone the top few buttons, your eyes widen when you’re blessed with the glimpse of his neck and chest. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his toned forearms dusted with dark hair. His long, thick fingers absently tap against the stack of papers in front of him. Sensing your presence, he looks up, his dark eyes finding yours in the dim light.

“Come here,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “I need you to take a look. Close the door.”

The door clicks as it softly shuts, now it’s just you and Joel Miller in his office filled with polished furniture and framed accomplishments. The heady scent of him overwhelms you—coffee and expensive woodsy cologne—as you move towards him. Joel’s intense gaze follows your every move as you stand next to him. His shirt pulls taut across his broad chest when he leans back, running a hand through his hair.

“These depositions,” he says, gesturing to the papers on his desk. “Something’s not adding up.”

You lean in, acutely aware of how close he is as you scan the documents. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body as you reach for a page. He watches as you read through it, your eyes scanning through the typical legal jargon.

"What do you make of this discrepancy?"

"I think… we need to look closer at the witness statements,” you lay the paper down, searching for another file.

“I think you’re right,” he murmurs as he leans in to examine the paper.

“We should compare these statements side by side.”

“Mm, good idea. There’s more room on the couch.”

You nod, goosebumps prickling across your skin as you walk over and settle amongst the cool, leather cushions.

He sits next to you, impossibly close, you’re acutely aware of every point where your bodies almost touch. Joel leans back, the leather creaking slightly, as he casually drapes an arm along the back of the couch, just inches from your shoulders.

You try to focus on the papers in your lap, but you find it too daunting as he leans even farther in.

“What do you think?”

You turn your head slightly, your lips now mere inches away from his. Intense and unreadable dark brown eyes stare into yours. You can hear the ticking of the clock sitting on his desk and yet time stands still.

“I think…" your voice barely above a whisper. “We need to look closer.”

Your mind races, you can hardly keep any semblance of composure as he shifts slightly, his thigh now pressing against yours. The heat of his body seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

“Closer, huh?” he drawls.

You nod. Joel's eyes flicking down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze.

“Mr. Miller,” you whisper.

“Baby, you know you can call me Joel.”

“Joel…”

The papers on your lap flutter to the floor as he closes the remaining distance between you. His lips are warm, soft, and familiar, reminding you of the last time you kissed him–yesterday morning when he backed you up into the supply room, whispering against your skin how much he missed you. 

A soft whimper leaves your lips as your mouth opens, allowing his tongue to taste yours. A trail of fire is left on your skin when his hand slides up your thigh, bunching your skirt as he goes. He knows how to touch you and how to make you moan… Joel Miller knows you.

Charting a path, his lips move to your neck, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive spot he knows you love to be kissed at.

You’re whimpering, already writhing against the smooth, cool leather of the couch. All day you’ve tried to focus on work, tried to figure out the case in front of you, but your mind was consumed by thoughts of Joel’s body pressed against yours again. It’s been almost six months of sneaking around, of heated glances across conference rooms, of always feeling his eyes on you while you’re in the office. Six months of pretending you're just another associate, when really you're the one who knows exactly how Joel Miller likes to be touched.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day darlin’,” he drawls. “Been waitin’ for you.”

Thick fingers find the apex of your thighs, already slick with need. He clutches your thighs, parting your legs as his palm grazes along your silky skin there. He smirks, a devilish look, when he feels just how wet you are for him.

His lips find yours again, kissing you deeply, like he really has been waiting for you.

You’re squirming, aching for more, and when he slides a hand higher, skimming the edge of your damp underwear, you sigh his name. “Joel…”

“Love it when you say my name baby,” he growls, pressing his finger against the soaked fabric. “Can feel how much you want me.”

His fingers slip beneath the elastic, finding your slick, swollen flesh. A long moan escapes you as he parts your folds, stroking your needy pussy. Your hands fist in his dark green shirt, holding on as he his thumb circles your clit. His touches are confident and purposeful, working you over like you’re a case.

Open-mouthed kisses are trailed along your jaw and down your neck, nipping at your racing pulse before soothing it with his tongue.

“You’re so wet f’me, aren’t you?”

You moan an affirmative noise as he leaves one last, chaste kiss against your lips before he moves to settle on the floor between your parted legs, his hands gripping your hips tugging you to the edge of the leather couch.

He slowly drags your panties down your legs, throwing them behind him before bunching your skirt up around your waist. He spreads your legs wider, his brown eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of your pussy dripping for him.

“Look at you, baby, so beautiful. Been thinkin’ about tastin’ this pussy all damn day.”

His dark eyes meet yours before he dips his head, the tip of his nose sweetly bumping against your clit as his tongue licks against your aching cunt. Your fingers thread through his thick hair, holding him close as he laps up the taste of you.

The way his tongue slides along your slick folds, teasing and probing before plunging inside has you arching off the couch with a gasp. You feel his warm breath against your skin as he sighs contentedly, his mouth working tirelessly to taste you.

"Oh god, Joel…" you cry, fisting your hands in his thick, dark hair.

He hums against you, the vibrations making you shudder. He holds you in place as he alternates between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue against your clit, keeping you right on the edge.

When he slides two thick fingers inside your slick heat, you nearly come undone. He pumps them in and out, slowly, so achingly slow.

"Joel..." you whimper, fisting your hands in the dark waves of his hair.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he rasps. "Could spend all night right here, worshippin' this perfect little pussy."

The tension inside you winds tighter and tighter, your thighs starting to tremble on either side of his head. You're right there, chasing that peak you’ve been waiting to climb all day.

"That's it, baby," he rasps against your flesh. "Cum for me.”

His gruff words are your undoing. With a sharp cry, you shatter, your walls clenching around his fingers as your orgasm rolls through you. He works you through it, not letting up until you're spent, chest heaving and panting.

Your limbs are loose as you float back down to earth in the middle of Joel Miller’s office, he places a soft kiss against your core before crawling back up your body.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’,” he growls before kissing you. You moan, licking the taste of yourself from his lips and tongue. Your hands slip under his shirt, feeling the plush of his belly before the hard planes of his chest.

Joel pulls back, his dark eyes boring into yours with intensity. He grips the fabric of his shirt and with one swift motion, tears it open. Buttons scatter across the room, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. You smile and take in the sight of his broad, golden chest.

You fumble with the smooth fabric of your blouse as you quickly remove it, revealing your light blue lace bra. He growls, fixated on the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath you take.

His large hands run up and down your stomach as you reach behind and unclasp your bra, letting it fall away.

“Perfect,” he breathes before dipping his head to take a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, teeth grazing lightly. His hand comes up to palm your other breast, kneading the soft flesh.

You're writhing beneath him, cunt aching with need as he sucks and nips at your breasts. “Please Joel,” you whimper.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, a devilish grin on his face. "Please what, darlin'? Tell me what you need."

"I need you.”

With a groan, he pulls back, undoing his belt and zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down, his hard cock springs free, his thick shaft hard and ready to fuck you. Veins trace along the length of him, pulsing with need.

You lick your lips unconsciously, wanting to taste the bead of precum glistening in the dim office light. Your hands reach out, feeling the nest of dark curls at his base as you give him one, long and tight pump. His hand covers yours, and with an agonizing slowness, you both stroke him, spreading the slick precum along his cock.

“Fuck me Mr. Miller.”

He groans, his hips bucking slightly before hooking his arms under your knees, lifting your legs up and apart, spreading you wide open as he notches himself at your entrance.

One, smooth thrust in and he’s sheathed fully inside your wet heat.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he grunts, his thick cock spearing you as your hands roam over the flexing muscles of his back, your nails digging into his skin as he fucks you into the leather couch.

He pauses, his dark brown eyes locked on yours in the dim light of his office. You feel deliciously full, stretched around him.

"You take me so well, darlin',” he rasps, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips.

The leather couch creaks beneath you, his hands clamp down on your hips, yanking you against him as he pounds into your wet pussy. His breath is hot against your neck, as he sucks against the delicate skin there, fucking you senseless.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you up against his broad chest. You gasp at the sudden change, when he lifts you off the couch, his cock still buried deep inside you.

"Hold on tight, baby.”

You oblige, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your breasts press firmly against his chest, nipples dragging against the coarse hair of him there. He walks you across his office over to the desk, his thick cock shifting inside you with each step. You exhale a breathy giggle when his palm makes contact with your ass, leaving a sweet sting against your flesh.

“Fuck darlin’, you feel so good wrapped around me like this.” 

His thighs flex with each thrust as he pounds you relentlessly. He growls your name, fucking into you, his legs set wide as he stands. Your head falls back, exposing your throat to his hungry mouth. He latches on, sucking and nipping, grunting against your skin. 

With one swift motion, he sweeps everything off his desk, scattering papers and pens to the floor before placing you on the edge of the desk. A small whimper leaves your lips when he pulls out, your pussy already missing the stretch of his cock. You’re pathetic for his cock, trembling with need, your legs spread wide. He steps back and looks you up and down, the edge of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin as he admires your wide eyes and heaving chest. 

“Turn around and bend over for me darlin’.”

You comply, sliding off the desk and turning around, spreading your legs wide, presenting your ass and cunt to him. 

“Mm,” Joel breathes appreciatively before you feel him kneel behind you. 

He pulls you back slightly, your pussy meeting his warm breath ghosting over your skin, a shiver of anticipation rolls through you when you feel the tickle of his beard on the backs of your thighs as he nuzzles against you. 

“Goddamn, you look good enough to eat.”

Your fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth desk surface at the first swipe of his tongue against you. A long, low hum vibrates against your cunt as he delves deeper, his tongue worshipping every fold and crevice of your pussy. His nose bumps against your ass he buries his face between your legs, the wet sounds of his mouth working you over fills the office. 

You whine, your hips rocking back against his face, squirming all over his eager mouth. He sucks your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling in relentless circles. Your legs begin trembling, barely able to hold you up. He chuckles lowly, before leaving one last kiss against your pussy. 

He rises behind you, his hands sliding up your back to grip your shoulders, his cock hard and lightly tapping against your ass.

“Easy now,” he grits, his voice rough and low. Your hips sway at the anticipation of feeling the length of him pulsing inside you again. 

The broad head of his cock teases your entrance before he pushes into you, stretching you wide. He leans over you slightly, one hand moving up to press between your shoulder blades while the other clutches the edge of the desk for balance. His skin meeting your skin echoes through the room blending with your heavy breathing. 

Your eyes flutter open, catching sight of the reflection in the window. Joel–his jaw clenched tight, brows furrowed together creasing his forehead, deep brown eyes watching his cock fuck your accepting pussy is backlit by the city lights twinkling outside. His power is on full display for only you and the secret you two keep. 

He pulls almost all the way out, swirling his length around your entrance, before sinking back in, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he anchors himself. Your fingers claw at the desk, searching for something to hold onto as his cock pistons into you. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me, can feel you gettin’ ready. Need to see your pretty face when you cum f’me.” 

He grabs your waist, turning you over with ease. He hovers above you, his broad frame caging you in, pressing your back against the smooth surface.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, baby," he promises. "Gonna make you feel it for days. You deserve it, don’t ya’?"

Wide eyed, and staring at him, you nod.

He sinks back into you with one deep thrust, bottoming out inside your slick heat, your head rolling back as he fills you completely.

"That's it darlin'," he rasps, his hips snapping against yours. "Take me so well."

Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer, deeper. His thick cock drags along your walls with each thrust, his finger finds your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. Your head falls back against the desk, a high keen escaping your lips.

"Look at me," he commands gruffly. "I want to see those pretty eyes when you cum for me.”

You force your heavy lids open, meeting his intense dark gaze. His brow is furrowed in concentration, a light sheen of sweat on his golden skin.

The pressure builds inside you with each stroke of his thick cock, every swipe of his finger against your clit. Your entire body feels like a livewire, every nerve ending alight within you.

"That's it, baby. You're so close, I can feel it. Your sweet little pussy's grippin' me so tight."

You’re teetering on the edge, ready to tumble over. Joel fucks you more erratically, his breathing labored. You know he’s cresting on the edge, right next to you. 

The tension inside you snaps. Your back arches off the desk as your orgasm bursts through you. Your walls clenching Joel's cock as you cry out his name, your vision going white at the edges. 

"Fuck, you're so perfect," he grunts. "Feel so good cumming on my cock."

A guttural groan tears from his throat as he stills, spilling deep inside you.

You cling to each other as you float down from the high, pulses gradually slowing. He places tender kisses along your jaw before claiming your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

"Should we get back to work?" you ask against his lips, a sated smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest pressed to yours. "I think we're done for tonight, sweetheart. Let me take you home, want to wake up next to you on your birthday." 

—

Your body feels heavy and relaxed with sleep, but there's a warmth building between your thighs. Slowly drifting into consciousness, you become aware of the source - Joel’s tongue lapping at the sensitive skin between your legs.

You let out a soft moan, your fingers instinctively carding through the thick tendrils of his hair. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he devours your pussy.

Blinking away the last signs of sleep, you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His dark eyes twinkle with golden flecks lit by the soft early morning light filtering through the curtain when they meet yours.

He pulls back slightly, his plush lips and beard shiny from your slick. A roguish grin spreads across his face as he gives you a wink.

“Happy birthday, darlin’,” he drawls before diving back in between your legs. 

—-

🪿

[roselilies]

"Are you trying to distract the curses, or me?"

The playful lilt in Gojo’s voice made the blood rush to your face before you could even turn to look at him. You had barely stepped into the training grounds when his signature white hair and too-casual stance came into view. Today, the uniform skirt you were wearing was a little shorter than usual, though not short enough to warrant his teasing.

“Excuse me?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Why would I need to distract you when you’re already distracted all the time?”

Gojo’s grin widened behind his blindfold, and he took a deliberate step closer. His hands slid into his pockets, the picture of effortless confidence. “Oh, I’m very focused. On you, that is.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at his words. “Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me?”

“Nope. You’re the highlight of my day, baby.”

The nickname made you falter for a split second, though you quickly covered it up by turning away and pretending to examine your nails. Don’t let him get to you, you told yourself. It’s just Gojo being Gojo.

But that was easier said than done. He had a way of getting under your skin, of making every casual interaction feel loaded with some unspoken tension. The worst part? You weren’t entirely sure he didn’t do it on purpose.

“If you’re going to stand there and flirt, the least you can do is help me set up,” you said, gesturing to the training equipment scattered around the field.

Gojo laughed, the sound warm and slightly obnoxious. “Of course, anything for you.”

Before you could blink, he was suddenly at your side, picking up a set of practice dummies as if they weighed nothing. The proximity caught you off guard, and you found yourself hyper-aware of the way his shoulder brushed against yours. Damn it, why does he smell so good?

“You’re awfully quiet,” he teased, leaning just a little too close. “Am I making you nervous?”

“In your dreams,” you shot back, shoving a dummy into his chest with more force than necessary.

Gojo caught it effortlessly, laughing again as if he enjoyed your annoyance. “I dream about you all the time, actually.”

You groaned, trying to mask the flutter in your chest. “Why do I even talk to you?”

“Because you love me,” he said matter-of-factly, his grin impossibly smug. “But don’t worry, I’ll wait for you to admit it.”

You shook your head, biting back a retort as you turned your attention to the field. His teasing was relentless, and you hated how much you secretly looked forward to it. Gojo Satoru had this annoying charm, this magnetism that made him impossible to ignore. He knew it too, and used it to his advantage every chance he got.

“Alright, focus,” you said, pointing at the dummies. “We’ve got to run these drills before the others arrive.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he said with a mock salute, the smirk on his lips audible in his tone.

Ignoring the way your heart skipped at the nickname, you moved to the center of the field. As you began demonstrating the first sequence, you felt Gojo’s gaze on you, heavy and unapologetically lingering. It was like he wanted you to notice.

“Gojo, stop staring,” you snapped without looking at him, your voice sharper than you intended.

“Why? You look good,” he shot back, unbothered. “The uniform suits you. Especially the skirt.”

You froze mid-step, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Why thank you, but you’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute when you’re flustered,” he said, his tone softening slightly, almost fond.

That caught you off guard. Usually, his comments were light and playful, but this felt different, more intentional. You turned to face him, trying to gauge whether he was just messing with you again. His expression, though hidden behind the blindfold, seemed uncharacteristically sincere.

“Why do you do that?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Do what?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Say things like that.”

Gojo paused, and for a moment, you thought he might deflect like he always did. But then his lips curved into a smaller, softer smile.

“Because I mean it.”

The simplicity of his answer left you speechless. You searched his face for any sign of a joke, a smirk, something to suggest he wasn’t being serious. But all you found was an openness that made your chest tighten.

“...You’re so annoying,” you muttered, looking away to hide your embarrassment.

Gojo laughed, the sound lighter than usual. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t.”

“Too late.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping slightly as he added, “But seriously, you look amazing today. Not just today, though. Always.”

You hated how easily his words got to you, how they made you feel warm in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, turning back to the equipment. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Anything you say, baby,” he replied, but there was something gentler in his tone now—something that made you think maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t entirely joking.

A/N: Gojo I will always love you.

[suiana]

yandere! skater boy who doesn't think he deserves to be with you. you're all prim and proper, rich and elegant like a piece of royalty. while he's just some... guy. yes, this is a classic case of rich x poor but this time you're the rich one.

yandere! skater boy who loves you ever so much. you're his everything, his one and only. he'd do anything for you, tear his own heart out and serve it on a silver platter all for you. you're everything. however the status gap between the two of you only serves to increase his insecurity in the relationship. especially with how different your lifestyles are. he's a broke college skater living from paycheck to paycheck, and you're... you're you. you in all your perfect glory, living the high life. you deserve better than him.

"hey babe? are you sure you're alright being with me? i just... i think you deserve someone better," your boyfriend murmurs, your hand in his as his thumb rubs the back of your hand. he doesn't know whether you feel it too. the increasing whispers and disdainful actions of those around you. "of course it's fine. as long as we're happy together, right?" your response is as lighthearted as ever and he can't help but let out a sigh. right... as long as the two of you are happy together. since when has he started worrying about what others think anyway?

yandere! skater boy who can't afford expensive gifts or extravangant surprise trips to hawaii or paris. he can only offer you his heart, a burned cd with songs that remind him of you, or maybe the crochet flowers he made himself. it's not much, unlike any of the previous gifts you've gotten before and he's sure you're underwhelmed by his... wait you like them? seriously?

"you... like it?" he stares at your expression, his fingers tingling from where you touched him. his heart feels funny. fast, skipping beats. you've always had that sort of effect on him, making him feel things he's never felt before. his beloved lover. the master of his heart. "like it? i love it! this is so sweet, thank you so much for this! look, you even wrote me a long note! this has to be one of the best presents ever!" oh. oh. you love his gift. you... love his gift? his mouth goes dry, tongue quickly darting out to wet his lips. he could only look the other way, feeling his cheeks heat up just like yours. "fuck, babe..." he mumbles, hearing your happy chirps about how much you adore him and his handmade presents. you're too precious for him. "you deserve better." so much better.

yandere! skater boy who feels awkward attending all your rich people events. he has no decent outfits, lest ones that are appropriate for an event of such high status. he feels so unwelcome in this place no matter how much you try to reasure him. he knows it. he shouldn't be here. it's in the very way people are looking at him.

"are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" it's too hot, too stuffy. too claustrophobic. he feels suffocated in this massive ballroom, as though he was being choked by the tension of everyone's gazes. he tugs at the collar of his one and only slightly formal button up shirt, sweat lining the insides of his palm. meanwhile, you're the life of the party. all smiles and joyful chirps. god, you look so beautiful when you're smiling. are you happy that he's here? "of course it's fine. you're my boyfriend. i want you here." yeah, your poor and not high society boyfriend. he wants to just drag you both out of this place and go back home, watch a movie or something.maybe show you a few cool tricks on his board at the park nearby. just the two of you and the comfort of the night. nothing good ever comes out of socializing with others. especially not snobby rich people who think they're too good for the brokies. but not you. never you. you're different. you're not like them. so if you want him to stay, he'll stay. he'll stay even if he others want him out, even if he wants to leave. anything to make you happy. you're the only one who matters anyway. just you. only you.

yandere! skater boy who just can't let go of you. he knows he should but... no, he just can't swallow or accept a life without you. you, of all people. everyone else can fuck off and die in a ditch somewhere. but you? god, you're everything to him. you're the one good thing in his life. he can't let you go.

"what's wrong, hm?" your voice is so warm. like the warmth of sunshine after a heavy rain. home. you're his home. your boyfriend sighs into your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your torso as he crushes you on the bed under his weight. this is it. this is what his life was destined for. to be one with you. nothing more, nothing less. "i love you babe." and he means it, he really does. he's grateful you want him back too. he doesn't know what he'd do without you. just thinking of going back to the way things were before he met you... no way. that's worse than breaking his board in front of him which is like, death itself. "i want to stay with you forever," a brief pause as he looks you in the eyes. fuck, you're beautiful. how can someone be this perfect? what was he going to say again? your blinding beauty made him forget. oh right. "can i be your husband?"

[dulcescorderitas]

dean seeing you wearing his leather jacket

parings: dean winchester x reader

warnings: 18+, implied smut

the sound of the motel door clicking shut barely registered, your focus locked on the way dean froze in his tracks. his boots scuffed against the cheap carpet as his green eyes swept over you, darkening with every second they lingered. his leather jacket hung loose on your shoulders, the sleeves just a little too long, the worn fabric brushing your thighs. underneath, there was nothing but your skin and the thin scrap of lace you called panties, the kind he liked so much—the ones he always swore he’d tear off one day.

his breath hitched, his jaw tightening as he raked a hand through his hair, the gesture doing little to tame the mess of it. "jesus christ," he muttered, his voice low, rough, like gravel under a slow-moving car. "you’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?"

you smiled, a sly, knowing curve of your lips, and turned slightly, letting the jacket part just enough to give him a better view of the bare skin beneath. "you left this behind," you teased, your voice soft, sweet, laced with heat. "thought I’d try it on."

he took a step closer, his boots heavy against the floor, and you saw the muscle in his jaw tick again. "looks better on you than it ever did on me," he murmured, his voice thick with something darker now, his eyes glued to the expanse of your thighs where the hem of the jacket just barely covered you. "but you knew that already, didn’t you?"

his hands were on you before you could answer, rough palms sliding under the leather to grab your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he needed to prove to himself you were real. he tugged you closer, your chest brushing his as he bent his head, his lips hovering just above yours.

"what am i supposed to do with you, huh?" he rasped, his breath hot against your mouth, his eyes flicking between your face and the sliver of lace peeking out from beneath the jacket. "wearin’ my jacket... lookin’ like this..."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the worn leather creaking softly as it shifted with you. "i don’t know," you whispered, letting your lips ghost over his. "but i’m sure you’ll think of something."

he growled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver through you, and suddenly his lips were on yours, hard and claiming. his hands moved to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he walked you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed. the jacket slipped from your shoulders as he pushed you down, his body covering yours in an instant.

"you drive me fuckin’ crazy," he muttered against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously as he kissed and bit his way lower. "always pushin’ my buttons, always knowin’ exactly what you’re doin’ to me."

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with one sharp motion, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked at you laid out beneath him. "you wanna tease me, baby?" he said, his voice low, dangerous in the best way. "then you’d better be ready to take what’s comin’."

and with that, he was on you, his hands and mouth leaving no inch of you untouched, the night stretching out into something wild, something unforgettable, something that felt like it belonged to just the two of you and the leather jacket tossed carelessly to the floor.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze

[cherrygirlfriend]

pillow play pairing: perv!rafe x thornton!reader synopsis: perv!rafe jerks off to his best friend's sister who is humping her pillow. warnings: smut! male + female masturbation, voyeurism, MDNI! - wc: 1.2k originally posted 12/03/2024

if topper knew the kind of thoughts his best friend had about his sister, rafe knew topper would make sure he never even caught another glimpse of you. if only top knew that whenever he passed out during a party or just a casual hangout between the two, rafe would slip upstairs, walking down the hall until he reached the door to your bedroom, he'd twist the doorknob, some light filtering into your dark bedroom, making you move around in bed in a way that caused alarm bells to go off inside rafe's head, hearing his own heartbeat fill his ear as he stopped in his tracks.

but as soon as you stopped moving and continued to breathe softly as you slept, rafe would slip further into your bedroom, looking down at your serene, sleeping form with a mixture of fondness and guilt; he knew that this was something he absolutely shouldn't be doing, but the more he tried to resist it, the more he craved to do it; the more he craved you.

rafe would pull open the drawer he'd gotten to know so well, sneaking a pair of your lacy panties and slipping them into his back pocket, before making his way to your bed, kneeling next to it, the blonde watching as your chest rose and fell with every breath you took like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen, captivated by the sight.

he pushed a strand of hair away from your forehead, before connecting his lips with your forehead, causing you to let out a content sigh in your sleep. he hoped you were dreaming about him; even if it wasn’t likely. "goodnight, sleeping beauty."

this was another one of those nights; topper was passed out on the couch in his living room after the two had decided to drink beer and play call of duty, only for topper to pass out after rafe challenged him to a drinking game. rafe stood up and lightly shook his sleeping friend, but when topper simply mumbled something in his sleep like nothing had happened much like you did, rafe knew he was good to go.

slowly, he walked up the stairs, taking slow, quiet steps down halls that were lined with family pictures along with ones of you and topper when you were younger up to graduation, pictures he was sure he had passed a hundred times when he was making the trek to your bedroom, but as he looked at your bedroom door, decorated with a sign that had your name on it that had been there for as long as he could remember, rafe noticed that something was different.

the light was on.

usually, you were long asleep by this time; but as rafe got closer to your door, he could heard noises that were muffled by the hardwood door. he couldn't process it at first, but when you were just a little bit louder, he had a guess about what the cause of those little noises was, and so rafe pressed his ear against the door to make sure that he was hearing what he thought he was.

and there it was; you were letting out beautiful, breathy moans, the noise slightly muffled by the thickness of the door. carefully, rafe twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open just a crack, already hearing your pretty little noises much better, his jeans starting to feel tighter just from that. he had no idea how you had that big of an effect on him.

opening the door only slightly more, rafe peeked into the room, feeling like he might blow his load just from the sight displayed in front of him.

you were perched on top of one of your ruffly decorative pillows, your laptop open on the bed next to you, playing something less-than-appropriate, your face contorted in bliss as you rode your pillow, seemingly unaware of your surroundings, and seemingly unaware of who was watching you.

your body was covered only by a pair of panties that were all too familiar to rafe, having been a pair he'd seen in your drawer before, as well as a flimsy tank top that you were palming your tits through greedily, and the blonde couldn't resist bringing his hand to his belt, swiftly unbuckling it and unzipping his jeans as he watched you, your head thrown back in pleasure, rafe palming himself through his boxers.

he licked the palm of his hand to help slick it up, taking his cock out of his boxers, already standing at attention.

rafe watched as you pulled your tank top up slightly, showing a sliver of your tits, and even that was enough to make a small whimper escape his lips as he stroked his cock, the tip glistening with a drop of precum that he spread around his shaft as he continued stroking himself, wishing he could use your arousal to help lubricate him.

you hadn't heard the small sounds escaping him, or the slight fapping noise coming from his hand as he stroked himself, the man so infatuated by the sight of you getting yourself off on your pillow, your features contorting in pleasure, as he pictured that it was your hand stroking him, dreaming that he replaced the pillow you were grinding your pussy against, using him, rubbing your clothed cunt against his bare, hard cock.

this was the first time he had done something like that, watching you while getting himself off, but rafe knew that after he got a taste of it, he wouldn't be able to stop. it felt too good.

"unnghh..." you moaned breathily, feeling yourself get closer as you continued using the pillow on yourself, pressing it against your clit, the lacy pair of panties you wore covered in the arousal that had pooled around your legs, slowly causing even the pillow to get drenched as it dripped down your thighs.

rafe couldn't get himself to think about how wrong it was, about how topper would kill him if he found him in this situation; the only thing on his mind was you, and the way you'd look on his lap, riding him, those perky tits right in front of his face as you took all of him, your nails digging into his shoulders, how your smooth thighs would feel under his hands...

when you let out a particularly loud moan, rafe felt the pressure in his stomach snap, coating the inside of his jeans with his white, sticky cum, your movements stilling as you keeled over on the bed, completely out of breath and panting, while your laptop still replayed moans and sighs, and as he tucked himself back into his boxers and jeans, rafe knew that once you were dead asleep, he'd be paying you another visit and going through your laundry basket for the pair of panties you’d just soaked.

[florestalio]

HIDE-N-SEEK — l.hs

recently, your town has been getting terrorized by a serial killer, going by the name of 'ghostface'. of course you were scared to be his victim. imagine the sheer terror on your face — and the utter delight on his — when your fear turns out to not have been caused by your paranoia.

GENRE— ghostface au, stalker au

WARNINGS— dubcon (no verbal consent), reader is weird asf (completely fucked up), mentions of blood, mentions of stalking, knife play, fear play ++ more

WORDCOUNT— 5.6k for now. est— around 7k (I'm bad at estimating so it may be longer)

NOTE— well... a teaser is better than nothing, right?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

RELEASE DATE— tba.

EXTRACT UNDER THE CUT—

extract wc— 241

You frowned. Why was this person asking for your name, when he was the one that called you in the first place? What a fucking weirdo.

You spoke again. “I don't wish to sound rude, but — shouldn't I be the one asking that? I mean, you were the one that called me, you know — not the other way around.”

You heard a chuckle from the other side of the phone. It creeped you out, the sound more menacing than amused. He spoke again, his voice still sounding distorted. “Aren’t you adorable?”

You were starting to feel creeped out now. Your hand was gripping the last plate in your hand tightly, not even noticing how much pressure you were using on it. You spoke in a slightly higher voice, your tone pitchy with a detectable hint of panic. “Listen Mr. Stranger — I don't know who you are, nor am I particularly curious. But you aren't fucking funny, so if you don't have anything of importance to say, I'm hanging up.”

Silence. Again. This guy was really testing your patience.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice lower… still distorted. “I would watch my tone if I were you, sweetheart. It's no way to talk to a… stranger, is it?”

You gulped. He sounded so… ominous, his tone nothing short of menacing. With your anxiety spiking, you spoke again, your voice mostly level except for the slightest tremor to it. “What do you want…?”

[lpham2525]

Fey and Firstborn

NOTE: I was inspired to write a Twiyor fic based on the above script fic! Special thanks to deluxeloy!

Loid knew better than to be traveling the Fey Mountains, especially not at twilight, when the Fey were most active. But unlike most other people, who avoided the magical creatures, Loid needed to find one of the Fey, and since the Fey were liminal creatures—somewhere between Fairy and Human—it made sense that they were most likely to be out and about at that ethereal, in-between time of day and night.  

Of course, like all others who sought out the Fey, Loid was desperate. His mother, the last of his family that had survived the war, was wasting away. They had been taking care of each other for the past ten years, but after she had fallen ill some months ago, Loid was afraid he might lose her.  

He had already tried everything: gathered and combined and concocted every herbal brew and potion for her, knocked on neighbors’ doors to ask for advice, consulted every physician and apothecary, tried every remedy he found from the books in the libraries. Nothing had worked. She was fading fast and he needed to do something before...before it was too late.  

Which is how he found himself in the Fey Mountains, having heard of how the Fey granted wishes to mortals willing to pay the price.  

Finally, Loid reached the correct location: a small glade that was filled with roses of all colors and sizes. Rumor had it that roses grew here all throughout the year, even in the coldest winters. His timing was right, too: twilight. 

And there she was, the Fey of the mountains. She was crouched over one of the rose bushes trimming something, her long, dark hair obscuring most of her face. 

“Excuse me,” Loid said, hoping not to scare her. 

Too late. With a scream, she whirled around and almost sliced his face in half with her gardening shears.  

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” both of them cried as they leapt back. Once his heart rate had returned to normal, Loid tried again.  

“Pardon me, but would you happen to be the Fey of the Mountains?” 

“Y-yes,” the Fey responded, “One of them, anyway.”  

Loid was a little more than surprised by her demeanor. He had heard that the Fey were a powerful, proud race, and didn’t take kindly to humans surprising them.  

This one, however...this one was different. With a cascade of gleaming raven hair and deep crimson eyes, she fit the description of Fey beauty, but her personality was...shy. Anxious, almost.  

Nothing spoke of the pride and condescension he had heard about the Fey folk.  

Could it be that she was just as nervous as he was?  

“Good evening,” Loid said, bowing to her. He decided it was best to be polite to her anyway, especially considering he was asking for her help. “My name is Loid, and I’ve come to speak to you about something dearly important to me.” 

“I’m Yor. Um, please have a seat,” she said, gesturing to one of the large, flat rocks in the glade. 

Once Loid had told Yor his story, he quickly opened his bag. “I’d be willing to give you anything I have,” Loid said, in case she was debating on whether or not to accept his request. “I don’t have much money, but I could repay you through labor or...” 

“Well...” the Fey began hesitantly. “I have no need for money or labor, but what I would really like is...a child.”  

“A child?” Loid didn’t know why he sounded surprised at this. It wasn’t unheard of for a Fey to demand a firstborn child as payment for their magic, but the way this Fey had asked for one seemed as if she expected him to say no immediately.  

“Y-yes,” Yor said nervously. “You see, I’ve been by myself ever since my brother moved away, and no one will let me adopt a child since I’m a Fey and...”  

Loid held up his hand. “You don’t need to explain. For the health of my mother, I am willing to give you my firstborn child.”  

Yor stared at him in shock. “You...you really mean it?” she asked, breathless.  

“Yes,” Loid confirmed. While he found it no great sacrifice to give his firstborn child to this strange and beautiful woman, a part of him suddenly found himself wanting to raise this child with her.  

But no, he told himself, dispelling the thought. Most likely, he would not see her or the child anymore once the baby was given up.  

“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.  

Yor stared at it for a moment, as if afraid he might jerk back his hand at the last moment, but then she gingerly took his hand and shook it.

“Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade...” 

“Thank you so much. She means everything to me.” 

“I know,” Yor said, remembering the pain and despair in Loid’s eyes as he related the story of his ailing mother. “Let's hope the price wasn't too much for you after all... Only time will tell.” She rose to leave, but the next words out of Loid’s mouth stopped Yor in her tracks.  

“So, when do we start?”  

“...If I could ask you to elaborate?”  

“You said you wanted my firstborn.” 

“Yes? And you agreed?”  

“Yeah, so, when do we start?”  

The Fey stared at him, her lovely features pinching in confusion. Then her eyes blew wide as his meaning sank in; she blushed as red as her roses. “Ah...”  

And that’s how Loid returned home with not only a Fey wife, but his firstborn child already on the way.  

Even years later, people still whispered about Loid’s journey to the Fey Mountains. How he left to find a cure for his mother and how she miraculously recovered on his return home. How he had surprised his mother with a wife that was not only ethereally beautiful, but incredibly kind. How their firstborn had hair as pink as roses and eyes as green as the Fey Mountains in springtime. How she was an unusually perceptive child, seemingly able to know the thoughts and secrets of everyone, just by being near them. And how they all disappeared one day, spirited back to the Fey Mountains, some say, to live out the rest of their lives in the Fey World.  

Although every so often, people say that one can still see glimpses of the family at twilight, talking and playing and laughing together. And wherever they were glimpsed, pink roses always bloomed there the next day.  

Human: Deal.

Fey: Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade...

Human: Thank you so much. She means everything to me.

Fey: I know, I know. Let's hope the price wasn't too much for you after all... Only time will tell.

Human: So, when do we start?

Fey: ...If I may ask you to elaborate?

Human: You said you wanted my firstborn.

Fey: Yes? And you agreed?

Human: Yeah, so, when do we start?

Fey:

Fey, blushing: Ah.

[ninikrumbs]

things he'd never admit

Sukuna x femreader. Just pure fluff. modern au. Soft Sukuna. Sukuna is bad at emotions. first time writing for sukuna so this could be bad.

The smell of rain reaches your nose first making you look up at the dark and gloomy clouds in slight panic, "Damn, its gonna rain soon."

Quickly, you run to the bus station, but apparently not quick enough as you made it halfway through before the soft pitter patter of rain slowly turns louder.

Lady luck was not on your side today. After long tiring day at University, you're now about to turn into a wet rat. A cute wet rat, but still a rat.

It was probably a dumb thing to do, especially when the pouring rain was now blurring your vision, yet you still continued running down the slippery pathway anyways, trying to salvage your books and papers inside your gradually dampening bag.

A low, annoyed grumble made you halt in your step, "Are you trying to kill yourself, brat?"

You could recongnize that rude voice anywhere. You look up to the large form now blocking your way, and quickly noticing the dark umbrella covering your head, "Kuna?"

He scoffs and let out an irritated sound, "Who else?"

Suprise and something warm flits through your body, your eyebrows raising, "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy all day today?"

Your mind recalls his blatant reminder that he couldn't come see you today because he had some school shit to do. Hence why you didn't call him to pick you up which he usally does. Because despite his semi aggressive personality, he does take his studies seriously so you didn't want to disturb him.

And Sukuna was busy, unbearably so. Not that he would admit it, he loved spending time with you thats why he chose to spend the entire day to do his papers and essays due this week was so there would be no interruptions during your time together - which was another thing he would never admit to you- and he could just focus on you.*simp

But when he saw the weather forecast and knowing your bad habit of always forgetting to bring an umbrella, he was already out the door with his keys in hand.

He was right to trust his gut cause here you are almost soaking wet, like a stray kitten left out in the street. Not mention your clothes that were now almost translucent.

It makes him grit his teeth, no one else should see you this way other than him. He holds out the umbrella to you. "Hold this."

You take it without question and hold it above the both of you as Sukuna removes his coat and puts it over your wet clothes. The annoyed look still plastered on his face as he keeps grumbling under his breath of how much of a spoiled brat you are.

It makes you grin cheekily. Other people might take Sukuna's surly personality the wrong way but you knew better. You spoke fluent in Sukuna Itadori.

And you knew, regardless of his complaints and rumblings, he cared. He cared so much even if he wouldn't admit to you or to himself. But you felt it every second you're together.

"Watcha smilin about, woman?" He grouses, annoyed, his eyes locking in on your smile, the type of smile that makes his pathetic heart stumble.

You shake your head still grinning innocently, "Nothing."

He glares at you, not believeing you for a second, but he can roast you about that later. Right now he just want to get you home to make sure you don't come down with a cold or a fever.

With a shake of his head, he takes the umbrella from you and starts walking you to his car. He tries to be subtle about it, but you didn't miss the way the umbrella tilted more on your side getting his right arm soaked from the rain.

"Kuna, your-"

"Leave it."

"Are you sure?"

"Im fine, brat."

You bit back a grin, his words were so jarring yet with no real bite behind them. It could be his jacket that envelops your entire frame and his comforting scent emitting from it, but you feel so warm and cherished. Only Sukuna can be so grumpy yet somehow affectionate.

The car finally comes to view and he ushers you into the passenger seat, placing a practiced hand on the car door frame as you sat down.

You bumped your head into it once but the grimaced you wore is forever seared into Sukunas brain. He realized then and there that he didn't want you in any form of pain, not that you'd ever know when he called you a clumsy idiot as you rubbed your sore head.

He drove extra slow that day.

Plus he stared at that door frame for a hot minute like it was his biggest enemy when he got home.

The moment you got inside his apartment, he immediately demands you get into the shower. His voice holding no room argument.

You comply without complaints of course. After a warm shower, you change into his baggy shirts and make your way to the kitchen when you hear the kettle boiling, and surely enough he has your favorite tea ready in the favorite mug that you bought when you first started dating.

"Oi, your hair's still wet." He notes grimly by the kitchen counter, crossing his arms in displeasure. Though you don't miss the way his eyes flits across your figure in his shirt apprciatively.

You wave him off, grabbing the mug off the counter and breathing in the soothing scent of the tea, a content smile on your lips, "It'll dry off on its own, Kuna."

He tsks at your carelessness and disappears to the bedroom, he comes back a few moments later with a towel and hair dryer. "Sit on the damn sofa"

You gaze at him with exasperated affection. If only people could see through his rough exterior and notice how much this man dotes on you.

Finding no reason to argue, you plop down on the sofa with your legs crossed and he finds his place behind you, fluffy towel in hand.

Gazing down in the mug in your hands, you smile secretly to yourself. Your boyfriend may not be the most expressive when it comes to declarations of love, but you didn't need words. His actions spoke more than any kind of heart trembling confession or lovesick poem.

And you felt everything he would never admit outloud in the way his rough, calloused hands are so uncharacteristically gentle as he weaves through your hair with the towel. Handling you like you were some precious china.

You clasps your hands over his, making him stop. You turn your head and look up at his questioning gaze. Smiling softly, your kiss one of his palms. "Thank you for always taking care of me, Kuna."

His eyes widen slightly before his mask of nonchalance returns, huffing,"Dunno what yer talkin about."

"You know exactly what Im talking about." You grin.

He rolls his eyes feigning irritation in order to hide the small smile tugging in the corner of his lips, "Don't get too used to it."

But he did want you to get used to it. Needed you to need him. This way maybe you'll ignore how shitty he is at emotions or how he can't do all the lovey-dovey stuff that makes you swoon in those crappy rom-coms you're always watching. He'll never hold a boombox over his head outside your window.

"Too late." You say, snuggling your cheek into his palm.

Sukuna falters a bit.

He's a confident man, women would beg for just a single glance from him despite his abrasive nature, it was all part of what Gojo called his charm -and once again he'd never admit it to you- but your words eases the insecurities he didn't realize were there. He grumbles under his breath somewhere along the lines of you better not taking that back.

You laugh at his mumbling, the sound like music to his ears, "Oh, Kuna."

[strayingawayy]

nothing fucks with my baby

...the one where someone messes with you and seungmin isn't having it

the hallway is quiet, but it isn’t empty. it hums with the weight of something unspoken, something sharp enough to cut if you’re not careful. seungmin stands there, just at the edge of the dim light, his figure carved from shadow and slow-burning anger. the air around him feels different. thick, heavy, like it knows better than to move.

you’re a few steps away, arms wrapped around yourself, the echo of too-close laughter still burning under your skin. your heart stutters against your ribs, frantic and unsettled. he looks at you then, and it’s not just a glance. it’s the kind of look that holds things...promises, warnings, the weight of something you’re not sure you can carry alone.

"you okay?" his voice is low, tight, like he already knows the answer.

you nod, but it’s shaky. "yeah."

it’s a lie, and he knows it. his eyes darken, his jaw tightens, and the space between you shrinks as he steps closer, his presence wrapping around you like armor. his fingers find your wrist, barely there, a whisper of contact, but enough to keep you from unraveling.

"tell me who it was." his voice is steady, but there’s something underneath it now. something that simmers.

you shake your head. "it’s fine, minnie. really."

but it’s not, and you can see it in the way his lips press into a thin line, in the way his shoulders coil tight, like he’s holding something back. there’s a storm in him, slow and deliberate, the kind that doesn’t lash out. it waits. builds. consumes. and then...

then, footsteps. a creak of a door.

and there he is. the staff member. the one who thought he could take up too much space, could laugh too close, could touch too freely. still smirking like nothing happened, like he’s untouchable and you feel it prick at your skin and you're trembling again.

seungmin doesn’t hesitate. he moves with a quiet kind of purpose, the kind that doesn't need force to be felt. he doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t shove. he just stands there, in front of the guy, like an immovable force. like something you don’t challenge unless you're stupid enough to try. because kim seungmin isn't one for confrontation. but you know you're absolutely fucked over if he does.

"you think you're clever, don't you?" seungmin's voice is calm, even and there's a twitch in his jaw which is visible even from the distance.

the man blinks, his confidence flickering. "i-i was just joking around-"

"don't," seungmin says, and it’s not loud. it doesn’t need to be. "not with them. not ever. you hear me? now get out of my sight before you dig yourself a bigger grave."

there’s something final in his words, something that settles deep, something that doesn’t leave room for argument. the guy stammers, shifts on his feet, then disappears down the hall, too cowardly to look back.

seungmin watches him go, unmoving.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the tightness in your chest easing just a little. "you didn’t have to do that."

he turns to you then, and there’s something softer in his eyes now, something only for you. "i did."

his hand finds yours, laces your fingers together in a way that’s quiet and steady and everything you didn’t know you needed. his thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding you back to this moment, to him.

"nothing fucks with my baby," he murmurs, and it’s not just a statement. it’s a vow, carved into the space between you, carved into the universe that's written with your names.

and you believe it.

[leovenuslatina]

ETERNAL DESIRE⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

!!THIS READING IS 18+ MDNI!!

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what makes your FS feel desired?

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₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

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PILE 1 -

King of Pentacles & The Magician

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Your FS like to feel confident pile 1. he likes when stroke his ego make him feel good and you build him up i mean of course everyone does but he mainly likes it when you do it. it means the most to him when you do it especially when you two are making love and you whisper all things he’s doing makes you feel good he’s obsessed with that. Outside of the bedroom your FS likes knowing that you depend upon him that anytime you need him or anything that you come to him. he likes when you make him feel like a “real man” you know chopping wood lifting heavy shit and stuff like that. your FS is OBSESSED with making you feel safe protected and comfortable. whether it’s when some creep is hitting on you and making you feel uncomfortable or his just hold you in his arms. he likes knowing that you trust him completely with everything: soul and mind but especially body. Your FS does put a lot of his identity in what he does and his job so he maybe like really important where he works or in his field. he has a lot of respect which indirectly helps his confidence especially with you he likes to buy you nice things and taking you on trips and luxurious experiences. Lastly your FS LOVES ! communication and hearing words of affirmation from you it does wayyyyy more than you think it does.

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PILE 2 -

Two of Wands & Six of Pentacles

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Immediately pile 2 your FS means business! they love to get shit done they have a long list of goals and they intend to achieve everything on that list and they don’t let anything or anyone stop them. that makes them feel really desired and important and impressive. they like when you challenge them i’m getting that the chase is like a good motivation for them. in the weirdest way what makes them feel wanted is when you act like you don’t want them 🤭. when you tease them and act like a brat for lack of a better word. your FS def wants what they can’t have and when you tell them not right now or no he LOVES IT ! (side note lol): i was having a conversation with my man the other day and i asked him why he kept pursuing me even when i acted like i didn’t want him he said because he was so used to girls throwing themselves at him that when i didn’t he was intrigued and when he got me he felt accomplished. Your FS is the SAME way he’s probably like handsome or really charismatic and when you don’t immediately want him he’s obviously obsessed with you !honestly just being in a relationship with you makes him feel the most desirable. because he views you as the highest prize he could ever win. he sees you as a goal he wants to achieve (not in a bad way!!) he just knows he has to work his hardest to get you and make you happy and keep you happy and that makes him feel really good about himself. he feels like he won at life just because he’s with you 🥰. because they are very goal oriented they LOVE when you give them tasks to do for you like helping you move or helping you with some car troubles. they are a HUGE acts of service kinda guy and he’s the type to do stuff for you before you even asking like filling up your water bottle or washing your car for you or just anything to make your life easier. it’s the same thing in the bedroom. he likes when you tell him what you like and what to do and when he does that and makes you pleased he’s extremely happy with himself.

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PILE 3 -

Knight of Pentacles & Six of Cups

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Your FS prides himself on being who you lean on. He’s ambitious and he’s a GOOD man savanna!!! he’s loyal and faithful if you care about that stuff he is a religious man (only of that applies). What makes your FS feel desirable is knowing that you see him and that you know all he does. he’s the type of guy that doesn’t brag he’s not boastful about all he does. he’s very humble. he’s not in it for any type of praise or recognition. but you truly see him and you’re thankful and appreciative of everything he does for you and that makes him happy literally he’s a simple kinda man it really doesn’t take much to make him happy or feel. your FS is an extremely patient and supportive man he’ll do anything for you even if you have trauma or past experiences that cause you anxiety he’ll be right by your side. this FS is the perfect person for someone who needs a lot of patience and attention and love. he’s very caring and soft and loving. and the look on your face when he hold you or when he sees you happy that is the ultimate compliment to him. like all he wants to do is be a good MAN for you !

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