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earthlybeam · 3 days ago

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Thranduil's chest is SO BIG AND BROAD. I JUST WANT TO WALK TO HIM AND SMUSHED MY FACE INTO THEM AND JUST CRY THERE 😭😭

How do you think he'll react lol

They are two versions below of thranduil reaction. One version has you crying into his chest, while the other shows you randomly burying your face there, each reacting differently.

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

First one (you crying into his chest)

The soft rustle of the Mirkwood trees whispers through the night air, the moon casting silvery beams upon the forest floor. The night is quiet, peaceful even, save for the sound of your footsteps approaching the Elven King. He stands at the edge of the royal pavilion, overlooking the sprawling woodland that stretches beyond. His long, silver hair glows faintly in the moonlight, and his tall, regal frame stands in stark contrast to the serene wilderness around him. His broad chest rises and falls with each breath, the delicate patterns of his armor catching the light like shards of starlight.

You’ve been carrying the weight of your own burdens, and though you’ve tried to contain them, they spill out in quiet moments like this one. As you approach, your heart aches, and an overwhelming urge to seek solace in his presence wells up inside you. Without a word, you step forward and, before he can turn around, you press your face into the broad expanse of his chest. The warmth of him envelopes you, and for the first time in what feels like ages, you allow yourself to simply break, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Thranduil freezes for a moment, his keen Elven senses registering the sudden closeness and the sorrow in your touch. His usual sharp composure falters as he feels the tremble in your frame. His first instinct is to step back, to remain distant—as is his nature—but something about your vulnerability shifts something deep within him. He lets out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, the subtle weight of centuries of grief and wisdom pressing down on him. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he brings his strong arms around you, pulling you into the warmth of his embrace. His chest expands with each breath, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek.

“Do not weep so, Mellon,” Thranduil murmurs softly, his voice low and smooth, like a velvet caress. His hand gently runs through your hair, fingers threading through it with an unfamiliar tenderness. “What is it that burdens you so? Let it out, for even the oldest of hearts must shed their tears.” The words are not those of a king commanding strength from his people, but of a ruler who, perhaps for the first time in a long while, allows himself to feel the weight of another’s sorrow. His embrace tightens around you, pulling you even closer as if to offer not just comfort, but protection from the world that has hurt you.

His chest is broad and warm, and as you continue to lean into him, you can feel the gentleness that hides beneath the imperious exterior. Thranduil is not a man accustomed to giving such comfort, but here, in the quiet of Mirkwood, he offers it with all the grace and patience that his long life has taught him. “Rest,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper now. “I am here. You need not hide your pain from me.” His hands cradle your head softly, pressing your face against him as if to shield you from the world’s cruelty. He may not fully understand the depth of your sorrow, but in that moment, Thranduil knows that there is something worth protecting here.

The weight of your tears, the vulnerability in your touch—it all speaks to him in a way that no words ever could. As you cry, he remains quiet, a silent guardian, until the storm within you calms. There is no rush—no expectation to pull away or to stop. For once, Thranduil allows himself to just be present, letting his presence speak louder than any command or sharp word ever could. When your tears subside, and the soft sniffles fill the silence, he murmurs once more, his voice softer than before: “You are not alone, not now, not ever.”

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

Second one (you random put your head on his chest)

The night in Mirkwood is thick with the scent of pine and earth. The moon filters through the canopy of ancient trees, casting a pale glow over the soft forest floor. The Woodland Realm is peaceful, quiet except for the occasional rustling of leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures. You find yourself walking beside Thranduil, the King of Mirkwood, under the tall trees. The two of you have spent many evenings like this—casual conversations, silent walks, and shared companionship. But tonight, for reasons unknown to you, there’s a strange tension in the air. You’ve always admired him from a distance, noticed the broadness of his chest, the way his regal presence demands attention. And now, for the first time, you feel a wild, almost magnetic pull to him—something playful and impulsive stirring within you.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you stop in your tracks. Without warning, you step toward him and, with a mischievous smile, bury your face right into his chest. The action is sudden, unannounced, and entirely unexpected. Thranduil freezes, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. The Elven King is no stranger to sudden movements or unexpected actions, but this? This is different. He doesn’t move at first—his tall, strong frame stiffens under the sudden pressure of your touch. His broad chest feels warm and solid beneath you, the fabric of his tunic smooth and rich under your cheek.

For a moment, the air around you both seems to stand still. Thranduil’s lips press together, his usually composed expression flickering between confusion and something almost… amused. “Do you often make a habit of such impetuous gestures, Mellon nîn?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with a touch of amusement, his hand hovering near your back but not quite touching. You feel the warmth of his body against yours, his chest expanding with each breath. For a heartbeat, you remain there, pressed against him, savoring the feeling of closeness you’ve long wanted. Thranduil lets out a slow breath, his usual cool demeanor starting to melt away as he registers the softness of your touch and the quiet vulnerability of the moment. His hand slowly comes to rest at the back of your head, fingers gently brushing through your hair as he draws you in just a little more.

“It seems, Mellon, that I am the one caught unawares this time,” he says with a low chuckle, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling through his chest. You can feel the subtle change in his posture as his once rigid form softens, just enough to let you know that he’s not pulling away. He lets you stay there, and in that moment, there’s an almost imperceptible shift—the unspoken understanding that this act, however sudden, is somehow important. “Are you quite done?” Thranduil asks after a few more moments, his voice a gentle teasing, but there’s a warmth to it now. His hand strokes the side of your face before tilting your chin up to look at him. His gaze, while still a little guarded, has softened. He’s no longer the imperious king you’re used to—now, he’s just Thranduil, and there’s something in his eyes that’s rare: affection.

You smile up at him, cheeks flushed from the act, but you don’t pull away just yet. You look into his eyes and let out a soft laugh, as if you’re sharing a secret. “Maybe I do, sometimes,” you reply playfully, your tone light. “I’ve never been very good at following all of your rules, my King.” The softness in his eyes lingers for just a moment longer before he lets out a breathy chuckle, amused by your cheekiness. He can’t help but shake his head slightly, still processing what just happened but no longer annoyed by it. “And you think, what? That a king like me would allow such impudence to pass unchallenged?” he asks, though there’s no real reproach in his voice now. He lets his thumb trace along your jawline gently, a gesture that’s unexpectedly tender.

“No,” you say, your voice softening with the intimacy of the moment. “I think a king like you might just be a little bit more used to people respecting boundaries, and I figured… I’d see how far I could push them.” Thranduil chuckles again, a rare, genuine sound that rings through the quiet forest. “A little mischief, then? From my most trusted companion?” He leans down, his nose brushing the top of your head in a soft, almost affectionate gesture. “I must admit, I did not expect this from you.”

You remain pressed against his chest, not moving away this time, feeling the quiet steadiness of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so predictable then,” you tease, your smile still soft but genuine. “You’ve been hiding your soft side for too long, my King. It was about time someone discovered it.” Thranduil pauses at this, the weight of your words settling over him. He looks down at you, his usual commanding demeanor now tempered with something gentler. “Perhaps… you are right,” he admits, his voice quieter, more introspective. “Then maybe it’s time you remember,” you say softly, placing a hand on his arm. “You truly know how to disarm me, don’t you?” he says, the faintest smile pulling at the corner of his lips, though there’s no mockery in his voice. His fingers, so light and deft, trace a gentle line along the curve of your jaw, the affection in his touch almost surprising in its subtlety. He doesn’t immediately step back, and instead, his hand lingers on your back, the touch a quiet reassurance. His posture relaxes even further, and there’s a small but telling softness in the way he holds you for a moment longer than necessary. “You have an… interesting way of expressing yourself, friend,” Thranduil muses, his voice rich with a quiet, lingering warmth. He doesn’t seem as imperious now, nor as distant, but simply a man who’s a little taken aback—charmed, even—by your actions.

The King takes a step back, finally releasing a soft laugh. His smile is small but genuine. “Though, I must admit, there are fewer ways to come closer to a heart than this.” His hand lightly rests on your shoulder, and for a brief second, there’s an intimacy between you both that wasn’t there before—no walls, no boundaries, just Thranduil and you, sharing a rare moment of connection that has yet to be fully realized. “Next time, though,” he adds with a soft, teasing tone, “perhaps a bit of warning, hmm?” And just like that, Thranduil allows the distance to close, a quiet acceptance in his gesture.

#thranduil #thranduil x you #thranduil x reader #king thranduil x reader #thranduil oropherion #thranduil of mirkwood #thranduil simps #thranduil supremacy #lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr elves

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days ago

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Fool's Game 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki Laufeyson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Loki and Bugsy.

Summary: strangers on a train aren't as strange as they seem.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The train is crowded. That's not unexpected. There are few occasions in life that truly surprise Loki. That day is just a milquetoast as any other. All but one thing. One person.

He sits across from her. She never notices him. Her eyes do not leave the screen of her console. He's not one for the habit. The glare hurts his eyes and often triggers a migraine. No games, no phone but if absolutely necessary, and no distractions.

She's so oblivious he doesn't even need to hide behind the book. Well, it helps elude the curiosity of others who might notice his fleeting gaze.

The first time she sat across from him, he was not impressed. Irked would be more apt. She flew in like a storm and fell into the seat so hard she nearly bounced right out of it. He watched her charge fall from her bag, there, right by the polished toe of his shoe. At first he did not reach for it, yet when she took no heed, he gave in. His mother's voice would not quiet until he retrieved it.

The headset with the bunny ears kept her from hearing him. At least, he would accept only that as an excuse. He's a proper gentleman and she would not ignore him deliberately. He left it on the small lap table extended from her armrest as she did not see his efforts to get her attention. He wasn't going to try any harder.

That day, her brows draw together and her forehead lines. He can't see all of her but she lets out little breaths in her frustration. She squirms and plants her feet, as if that will help her in her game. She tilts the console this way and that then drops it to her lap. She huffs in defeat. He sees the image on her screen; two lethal red words: You Died.

His eyes slowly crawl up and meet hers. She blanches and quickly hides again. He does the same. The words are not legible as his mind races.

He does not lower the book again until he hears her puffing once more in her quest. He peeks at her. She has the wire of the headset between her lips as he rests her elbows on the armrests and hunches over. He can see her figure thrashing around but not much else as the colours on the screen are skewed. She jams her thumbs on the sticks and buttons then a flash and once more, the end screen. She pouts and throws herself back against the seat. She closes her eyes and doesn't move as a dark cloud swallows the image on the console.

The tension slowly eases and her mouth slants from one side to the other. She chews her cheeks and dips her chin down. She opens her eyes and holds down the button to shut off the system. She carefully zips it away in the fuzzy case and stuffs it into her larger bag. Another piece decorated with bunnies. They must be a favourite.

She brings the knapsack into her lap and hugs it. She looks out the window and her expression strains again. She doesn't dare look anywhere but outside, away from the people, away from him.

He supposes that's why he didn't take their first meeting personally. When she was asked coffee or tea by the lady with the cart, she couldn't speak. She merely shook her head with panic in her precious eyes. He knew then why she did not see him. Well, she needn't fear, he was not out to hurt her and he would make sure no other did as well.

🐇

He stands on the platform. Not far from her but not close enough to draw detection. It's an art being unseen but fortunately he's had a lifetime of practice. His brother, his sister, both always drew all the praise, all the purpose. He was just him. Just there.

She stands with shoulders slumped. She has her hood up. Her jacket also has floppy ears and the fleece looks more fit for a stuffed toy. She sways anxiously as she stands near the thick yellow caution line at the front.

The train whines down the tracks but she doesn't seem to notice. She's distracted but he can't tell by what. She's usually the first on but several pass her by before she reacts to the locomotive's arrival.

As she goes to step up, her toe hits the edge and she falls forward. He's moving before he can stop himself. He grabs her elbow and draws her to her feet as she sniffles.

She trembles and he squeezes before he thinks to let her go. She looks down at his long fingers but doesn't have the courage to look him in the face. She wipes her nose.

"Thank you," she murmurs and turns to climb up again, this time keeping her footing.

She's crying. He usually is annoyed by others showing such dire emotion. It's often misplaced. But not with her. His chest pangs. Something's happened. Someone's hurt her when he vowed that no one would.

He follows her up. She sits in 13a and he sits in 13c. Where they always do. She does not unzip her bag or take out her console. She picks at the edges of her nail beds and keeps her head down.

She gulps and her shoulders shake. His balls his fists. He wants to know the cad who's done this!

His heart races. He can't reveal himself. Not yet. Even if she is upset. She's not ready. No, he isn't. He hasn't thought of how.

Well, it's all a fool's dream. He's not serious, is he? She's just a stranger. Even if he knows her name. And where she lives. And where she works. That's all happenstance. It's not anything much deeper than that.

She leans into the window, embracing the bag like a dear friend. He can't see under her slouching hood. The food cart rolls around. He's about to wave the woman on then thinks better of it. The evening train is usually much sparser. He pays for a shortbread cookie. He takes it and turns it in his hands so the wrapper crinkles. She doesn't move.

He leans forward slowly, gauging her reaction. She still doesn't shift an inch. Closer and closer. He tucks the cookie into the front pocket of her bag. Still not a single flinch. She won't know until later but he hope it can bring her the comfort he's too shy to offer. He'll sort it out eventually. Just not today.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #watchers anonymous #series #drabble #thor #loki x reader #mcu #marvel #avengers

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theyanderespecialist · 3 days ago

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Base Sapient Yandere Doey Headcanons: Goodness Turned Obsession (Poppy Playtime)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another Poppy Playtime Bae Yandere Headcanons. This one has to do with Base Yanere Headcanons of Doey. Remember, in My Poppy Playtime content, the toys are not made out of children but are Sapient monster toys! Thank you! Anyway I hope that you all enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: Doey in this was NOT made out of Children's Souls and instead is A Sapient toy Monster! He has his own soul and mind and is aware that he is alive and can make choices! There are NO Children's souls in him! Disclaimer: Doey is not yandere in canon and this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!)

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Yandere Doey X Gender Neutral Reader From Poppy Playtime-

.Doey is a good man and monster he cares deeply about the people and toys in his life.

.He fell for you right away and knew that you were the one for him he wanted to have a life with you and to be close to you.

.He would be very sweet with you and would treat you almost like a co-parent to the other toys.

.He has become sort of a leader with the safer toys and since you take care of them he trusts you to be there for them as well.

.He is a very protective yandere and would see you as the person he has to protect the most.

.He cannot risk you being hurt and this makes him a very worried wart yandere.

.He tries not to smother you with his worry or fears but he cannot help it when the outside world is so dangerous.

.When you leave work and leave him he misses you and longs for you to come back.

.He cannot stand the thought of not being near you and being away from you.

.He does lash out at staff if they mistreat you and he is a bit of a clingy yandere.

.He does not mean to be clingy to you he just is because he does not want you hurt and you mean the world to him so he cannot and will not let you go.

.He is a very affectionate yandere who would adore you and love to give you handmade gifts or cool stuff he finds and brings to you.

.You have so many small knick-knacks in your employee locker it is not funny!

.He loves to sit with you and dare say hold your hand! He is a very innocent yandere, so the idea of just even holding your hand is enough to make him flustered, let alone the idea of kissing you or having sex with you. (Do not ask how) .He is the type that would love sitting with you but he does not like sharing his alone time with you at all.

.The toys that are like family with him, sure that is fine, but the staff and or toys that he is not close with? Oh no, he is not sharing his time with you with them! He rather does really bad things to them.

.Those really bad things are a brief thought and are of his darker yandere side.

.That is right this yandere has layers and sides. He can be from a very sweet and kind yandere which we just discussed, now let's get into his remaining two.

.This yandere side of his is, as I like to call it, his sad boy yandere side.

.This is where he can be a tiny bit of a manipulative yandere with you.

.As he notices when he is sad you are there more to cheer him up and he can guilt you to spend more time with him and less time with others.

.It also hides his darker yandere side, because why would a sweet loving, sad boy like, Doey do anything wrong?

.He knows it is a bit mean to manipulate you like that but he convinces himself he is doing it for the greater good.

.The last one and this is his worse yandere side, is the one where he snaps.

.This yandere side is only when he has been pushed too far by rivals or people in the way of his love for you, and he would snap.

.This is where he would go mainly in a blind rage and kill everyone in the way that he deemed that tried to steal you away from him and or hurt you.

.Because he would snap if anyone hurt you as well. .So he transforms into a lizard monster that is determined to put rivals in their place (Their grave) and to protect you.

.Yes this snapped yandere side comes out when he is trying to protect you as well, and you are the only one who can really calm him down.

.He might accidentally hurt you but he would never have meant to and he would feel so guilty about it!

.When he does finally confess to you he can be sweet and loving and nervous beyond words.

.He had to build himself up to confessing to you and if you accepted his love he would pick you up and spin you around.

.You are the best thing that has ever happened to him and he will cherish you always.

.If you did not accept his love he would feel broken, and run away crying, he could not let you see how much he was hurt.

.He would be in a serious funk not knowing what to do, then came the hour of joy.

.You were out sick so he did not see you there and he would wait for you to come back!

.Because you had to come back, you would not just leave him, right, he would not be able to bear losing you, he just could not handle it.

.He would be a yandere once you did leave him, he is in extreme denial about you not loving him.

.If you did come back with or without accepting his love, something has broken in him as a yandere.

.He is not letting you go, you are going to stay with him in the factory and he will not lose you again.

.He waited over a decade for you and now that you are back it means you accept his love and or still love him and he is NEVER EVER losing you again!

.He has more trauma and PTSD after what happened in the factory and his love for you.

.This goes to show, that even good yanderes can snap and turn into bad yanderes because of their obsessive love.

.This is where all his goodness had turned into pure obsessive love, and he is never letting you go~

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

#yandere #yandere doey #yandere doey the doughman #yandere poppy playtime #yandere headcanons #headcanons #poppy playtime #poppy playtime doey #doey #doey the doughman #sapient doey the doughman #sapient doey #doey x reader #doey the doughman x reader #gender neutral reader #reader

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bootsukki · 2 days ago

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operation: does tsukki like (y/n)?

hinata never meant to hit you in the face. it just... happened. you were walking into the gym holding a bag of clean uniforms when one of his spikes when extremely out of hand and instead of aiming for tsukishima's block, the ball landed on your face with a loud "smack!".

the ball ricocheted off your face with a thud and you stumbled backwards, your hands clutching your nose.

"oh my, (y/n)!" hinata panicked, running over to your side, but before he could even reach you, a large hand grabbed his shoulder and pushed him away.

"move," hinata stopped at the sight of tsukishima crouched beside you, his hands grabbing the back of your neck to check any possible injures with a look of actual concern, deep frown of his brows and eyes looking all over your face. "does it hurt anywhere? let me see your nose."

everybody in the gym blinked. even the first years who were scared of tsukishima were whispering about it: about the fact that he, the oh so stoic and angry tsukishima kei was softly checking on you, the sweet and lovely manager. tsukishima never talked to people like... that. he barely looked like he cared about anything or anyone but there he was, touching your face like you were made of the most precious material of the world.

hinata turned around, walking outside the gym as if he had just discovered the most scandalous secret.

tsukishima likes (y/n).

does he? well, he doesn’t know for sure! but that was something!

and so, the operation: does tsukki like (y/n)? was born. well, after a few text messages to a group he made without you or tsukki of course, texting everything to his three other friends that had missed practice today because of math tutoring.

step one: gather reinforcements.

that same night, an emergency meeting was scheduled in kageyama's house with kageyama, yamaguchi and yachi.

"i need to find out if tsukki actually likes her," hinata stated, hands on his hips as he tried to find ways to possibly catch the couple together.

"i mean... is that really necessary?" kageyama added, looking at a youtube video on his phone. "i don't think they are dating."

"why?"

"(y/n) is too sweet and tsukishima, well... he's my friend but..."

"hey!" yachi said. "tsukishima is great. he's smart and tall, i'm sure a lot of girls want to date him."

"yeah, but... (y/n)? i don't know..."

"he was acting sooooo weird when she got hit," hinata explained, trying to reenact tsukishima's worried face, which mostly looked like a bad impression of a wild animal. "and! i keep seeing them together!"

"they go to the same class, they have been friends for years and they live in the same neighborhood."

"i don't know, hinata..." yamaguchi talked for the first time. "i don't know, tsukki has always taken care of us in his own special way... he cares about us equally i think."

"maybe the best thing wse could do is ask?"

"yeah, no." hinata shook his head. "i would rather die than suffer the anger of tsukishima."

"what about (y/n), yachi?" yamaguchi turned to look at the girl. "you are best friends after all."

"we never talk about that so asking about it would be weird."

"the best thing we can do is to let it go, maybe you're just exaggerating, hinata." kageyama said, leaving his phone behind and grabbing a ball from the floor. "up for some practice outside?"

step tw- wait, there is no step two.

a few days after the incident, hinata had already forgotten about it and did not bother the others with the topic again.

after practice that friday, kageyama had one simple goal: grab his english notebook from the volleyball club room and go home to watch a match on tv.

easy, right?

no.

as he approach the club room, he heard voices from inside. he barely paid attention at first—there were other clubs having activities on the rooms next to theirs, but when he reached the door and pushed it open, he froze.

because his mind was about to explode.

there, standing in the middle of the room were two of his friends—way too close for just friends.

tsukishima had one hand resting on (y/n)’s waist, his other arm loosely wrapped around her back. and you? you were even worse! one of your hands was buried in tsukishima’s hair while the other one was… UNDER HIS SHIRT? WHILE KISSING HIM??????

WHAT.

kageyama’s soul left his body, he needed to leave and try to erase the mental image of his friends kissing but instead—

“HOLY SHIT.”

you yelped, jumping away from tsukishima and hiding yourself in a corner of the room.

tsukishima, on the other hand, was livid. “are you serious?”

kageyama was in shock, his arms flailed like a malfunctioning robot as he pointed at them. “W-WHAT—YOU—”

you were still trying to calm yourself “kageyama, calm down—”

“CALM DOWN?! I JUST SAW—YOU AND TSUKISHIMA— AND YOUR HANDS TOUCHING HIM…” he looked genuinely offended. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”

tsukishima sighed aggressively, rubbing his temples. “use your brain, dumbass. what does it look like?”

kageyama’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. his eyes darted between them, his face growing redder by the second.

“OH MY GOD,” he finally blurted out, shoving his hands into his hair like he was personally betrayed. “THIS IS WORSE THAN I THOUGHT.”

you rolled your eyes. “It’s really not that big of a deal—”

“NOT A BIG DEAL?!” kageyama practically threw himself out of the club room, tripping over his own feet as he ran out like the room was on fire. “I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO TELL HINATA HE WAS, INDEED, RIGHT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS WHOLE LIFE.”

“what?” you both called after him.

within minutes, hinata’s scream could be heard through the school.

operation: does tsukki like (y/n)? complete. conclusions: they are in love.

#tsukishima kei #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader

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organic-bloodbath · 18 hours ago

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Knife Princess

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: You're Niragi's little sister, and he's not happy of Chishiya's interest on you. When the final game starts and you get hurt, Chishiya takes care of you.

Warnings: 18+ smut, lots of blood ig.

A/N: I was writing a Chishiya request but realised half way i needed to write a prequel for that first lmao. So, this will have more parts coming up ✨️

♤♡♧◇

During your time at the Beach, Chishiya became intrigued by you. He analyzed your movements when you weren't watching - atleast he thought you didn't notice him.

He could see that men eyed you while you were laying by the pool in your bikinis, but nobody dared to approach you. Everyone knew you were Niragi's sister and that terrified the shit out of them.

Why? Because Niragi seemed to be a little overprotective of you. If he could see even one pair of male eyes thirsting over you, Niragi wouldn't hesitate to beat them up. People here had seen that happen several times. Some men thought they'd get away with a little bit of flirting, but Niragi seemed to have eyes everywhere at any times.

One day, Chishiya watched you, sitting by the edge of the pool once again in your yellow bikinis, legs tangling in the water to cool yourself down. You were enjoying the sun, black sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose. You weren't aware of his gaze, you had no idea how his eyes lingered on your skin. Atleast, that's what he thought.

Chishiya turned around just for a moment to leave, and suddenly you had appeared right behind him.

"You like what you see, hm?" you asked and put your hands on your hips. Chishiya stayed silent, an amused look on his face as he turned around to face you. "I've seen you looking at me, you know," you smirked and bit your lip. "You're not as sneaky as you think you are."

"Is that so?" Chishiya hummed.

"Mhm. A lady like me has grown eyes on her back too," you said proudly.

"I see," Chishiya said, intrigued once more. "So, tell me. Why do you wear boots at the pool?"

Chishiya had noticed that you always had the same leather boots on, while most people wore sandals or were just bare foot.

You only smiled and tilted your head, slowly stepping closer to him so you could reach to put your hands on his shoulders. You leaned so close to his face that you were only inches away from him, and he could feel your minty breath when you whispered: "You'll have to take them off and find out."

And then, only with a smile and a wink you let go of him and turned around, leaving him to stand there by himself to go back inside.

Chishiya wasn't sure if he only imagined it, but it felt like you swayed your hips more dramatically than usual as you knew that he would watch you walking away. If your plan was to not let Chishiya's eyes leave your body - you succeeded with that.

"Careful," Kuina said next to Chishiya. "Don't let Niragi see that you were checking his sister out."

"I wasn't checking her out," Chishiya denied, but he knew that it was a lie. He knew that he'd be dead if Niragi found out even about his thoughts on you, but Chishiya also knew that you were a woman with your own choices.

"Mhm, whatever you say," Kuina said, a hint of worry in her voice.

♤♡♧◇

After your short talk by the pool, it took only two more days to get Chishiya to take you into his bedroom and push you on his bed.

You knew that with right words, you could get any man that you wanted. Not every man could be seduced with the same methods, however, so you needed a little time to calculate what kind of person you were dealing with. You let men flirt with you here, even though you didn't plan to actually do anything with them, but you knew it pissed off Niragi and you enjoyed that.

Of course you wouldn't sleep with everyone here, though, you did have quite high standards and a specific taste and none of the men at the Beach had raised your curiosity enough.

Until you met Chishiya. He stood out from the crowd, usually staying mostly by himself or with a limited one to two people. You wanted to get to know him. No, you needed to get to know him. Maybe not emotionally yet, but atleast physically.

Truthfully, you hadn't had sex in months, you needed it much more than you had thought. Chishiya sucked all the stress and worry off you with his touch which gave you pleasure, even if it was only for a moment.

Right now, Chishiya had you pinned on the bed under him, holding your hands above your head and planting kisses around your neck and collarbones. You didn't know how he managed to find all the sweet spots which made you go insane already on your first time together, but he did nevertheless.

He untied the top of your bikini and threw it away, not caring where it would land. He took off his shirt as well to stay fair with you.

He peppered kisses all around your body as he slowly crawled back, until his head was located between your legs. He pulled the bottom of your bikini off, seeing now every part of your body. It didn't take long for him to rub your clit and push his fingers inside, starting to explore your vagina with different movements.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped. He moved his hand away for a moment but you quickly stopped him by grabbing his hair. "Wait, can you- can you do that again?"

Chishiya smirked. "Do what again?" he asked. "This?"

You arched your back as Chishiya pushed his fingers back inside you, curling his fingers just in the right angle like he had done earlier. You had to grab the bedsheets into your fists to stay still.

When he pushed himself inside you, you felt like this was what you had needed the most during your time at the Beach. During all the games.

Sleeping with him was something you felt like you had needed for years. He was the perfect balance of both rough and gentle in the best way possible to give you pleasure in its highest form.

You had no idea how much time passed while you were trapped between his body and the mattress, you were in complete ecstasy and you never wanted him stop what he was doing.

You were sure your body would be full of marks he had created on your body and you'd have to show it off to everyone, but right now, right at that moment, you didn't care about anything besides you and him.

♤♡♧◇

"What's that?" Niragi asked next morning and stepped closer to you, looking at the bruises on your neck, trying to hide themselves behind you hair. He grabbed your hair and yanked it back to see your neck better. "Are those hickeys? Who made those?"

"What is it for you?" you spat. "You can do whatever you want with whoever and so can i."

Niragi narrowed his eyes for your attitude.

"Who," Niragi growled with a low voice, finger pressing on one of the many bruises, his dark eyes directly on yours, "made that?"

You just grinned smugly.

"Try to guess," you challenged him.

♤♡♧◇

"You fucked my sister?!" Niragi shouted louder than ever before. Chishiya jumped back when he saw Niragi storming towards him, pointing his rifle towards Chishiya.

"Well, to my defense, she came to me," he said, lifting his hands up to surrender and trying to ignore the rifle, inches from his face.

"Out of all the girls here, dozens of them, you just had to choose her?!"

"Niragi, we're-"

Niragi put his gun down and instead grabbed Chishiya by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. Chishiya winced a little when the back of his head hit hard on the wall but otherwise he kept his regular pokerface.

"What should i do with you now, hm?" Niragi asked. "Shoot you dead right here right now or take a knife and carve little marks on your skin before shooting you. Any last wishes?"

He took a knife from his pocket, pressing the tip against Chishiya's cheek, a little too close to his left eye.

"Did you want to get a revenge on me? I thought we were buddies, man."

"Listen," Chishiya chuckled nervously in Niragi's tight grip. "Just let me down and we'll-"

"I know she's pretty, obviously, it's in our genes," Niragi interrupted, not caring to listen to Chishiya's defense. "But atleast talk about it before to me, man. Don't just go and screw her like that."

"So, if i had asked you for your blessing to sleep with your sister, you would have been okay with that?"

The anger rose back to Niragi's eyes. Chishiya was basically throwing more fuel into the fire flaming inside Niragi.

"Niragi, what are you doing?" you shouted from the end of the hallway before Niragi would be able go put a bullet in Chishiya's skull, walking towards the two guys with long steps. "Let go of him this instant."

"Or what?" Niragi asked. "You'll stab me over this guy?"

"If i have to," you said and crossed your arms against your chest.

"You can't be serious-"

You pulled a knife from your boot and pointed it at him.

"Let. Him. Down." You gritted your teeth, the same kind of anger in your eyes as in Niragi's. "Or you'll lose an ear."

Niragi huffed and let Chishiya go, coming towards you.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he whispered to you. "Him?"

"Mind your own damn business," you spat.

Eventually, Niragi left, but he wasn't in a good mood. At all. You hadn't seen him that angry in a while. You didn't lash out at him like that because he was threatening specifically Chishiya, no. You were just tired of Niragi constantly meddling into your business with men over and over again. Whenever you'd have a single hickey on your neck, and Niragi saw that, he'd immediately lose his temper for someone touching you - as witnessed here. It had been the exact same back at home before ending up to this world, but back then he only had his fists and not a gun. You had tried to make him quit it so many times but he wasn't having it.

You let out a frustrated groan, and Chishiya walked towards you now that Niragi had disappeared.

"So, you always carry knives with you wherever you go?" Chishiya asked, hands in the pockets of his white hoodie and an amused smirk on his face. "That's why you wear boots even with a swimsuit?"

"Shouldn't everyone carry a weapon with them?" you asked seriously, raising an eyebrow. "You never know when you need to defend yourself."

"Fair," Chishiya admitted.

You stepped right in front of Chishiya and put your hand behind his neck, slowly caressing his shoulder.

"Want to have a round two in my room tonight?" you asked, clicking your tongue.

"I'm not sure if i want to lose my right eye for that," Chishiya smirked, still feeling the cold blade against his cheek.

"Niragi's not the boss of me," you said and rolled your eyes. "I'm not some little kid that needs to be protected."

"Oh i can definitely see that," Chishiya agreed and nodded.

"So, my room tonight." You put your finger on hips lips. "Don't make me wait too long, hm?"

♤♡♧◇

The fire was flaming high outside, waiting for corpses to be thrown in there.

When the 10 of Hearts game started and Aguni's men were slaughtering people left and right, you only sat back and watched the shitshow. You knew Niragi would never allow anyone to touch you so you weren't afraid of being accused of being the witch and getting thrown into the fire.

That was, as long as he was there to witness it, and right now he wasn't. Still, you didn't stress about the game nearly as much as the others there.

You had no idea what Chishiya and others were doing, but right now you really, really just craved for a snack and was heading towards your room.

However, before you managed to get any further, someone grabbed you by your hair and yanked you towards them, causing you to let out a small cry for the pain on your scalp.

"Ha! Maybe she's the witch!" a man, who you didn't know at all, shouted at your face, spit flying on your cheekbone. "Let's burn her!"

One more guy joined him to drag you towards the place where the fire was located. But they weren't able to get very far.

You managed to get free yourself from their grip, then reached for your boots and took the two knives out of them. You didn't hesitate a moment longer as you threw the knives towards the two men, the blades digging deep into the men's necks.

You had practiced throwing knives for the past decade - as a nice little hobby of yours.

The men fell on their knees, and you kicked them on their chest, causing them to fall on their backs. You leaned down to remove the knives from their throats, leaving them to bleed out on the carpet. You wiped the blood on the men's shirts, then putting the knives back into your boots and continued your way towards you room.

As you walked through the corridor, you didn't notice two pairs of eyes watching you behind a corner.

"Well, i sure wouldn't want to anger her," Kuina mumbled. She was in shock how such a small girl was able to take down two grown men at that speed.

"She managed to surprise me too," Chishiya admitted, arms crossed on his chest. And very few people did surprise him anymore, both Kuina and Chishiya himself knew that. "Although, she's related to Niragi, so i don't know if i should have been surprised."

♤♡♧◇

A little later, you were leaning against one of the pillars on the 3rd floor, watching Aguni beat up Arisu with all his strength. You felt another presence join you, but you didn't need to turn your head to see who it was.

"Enjoying the show?" Chishiya asked.

"It's like watching a violent theatre play with real blood."

"Mhm," Chishiya hummed. "Hearts games are brutal but this is definitely something else."

"It's kind of entertaining how insane people can go during the Hearts games," you commented and turned your head towards Chishiya. "Did you ever suspect me as the witch?"

Chishiya eyed you for a moment.

"You could have pulled it off," he admitted. "With those knives and all."

"Aw, i'm touched," you smiled, hand on your chest. "If i was proven to be the witch, would you have been able to burn me in the fire?"

"Well," Chishiya started slowly and turned his face back to the crowd downstairs. "Everyone just wants to survive and get out of here, right?"

You didn't say anything back, only followed the events happening two floors down.

After everything had finally started to calm down, the fire suddenly spread and Niragi stepped inside, looking like he had been thrown into the fire too but got out before turning into complete ash.

"Oh, shit," you mumbled.

Niragi started to shoot in every direction possible with his rifle, not caring who he hit with the bullets. He wanted everyone here to die, that was for sure. He shot not only vertically everywhere, also up in different angles.

That meant, also right into your direction. Chishiya pulled you back, but just a second too late. You felt burning pain on your right shoulder and right after your leg, blood starting to pour out of the wounds. You stumbled backwards, but Chishiya managed to catch you and held you up by your waist.

His eyes widened when he saw your shoulder being painted red, as well as your leg.

"This just isn't my day, is it?" you chuckled, trying to ignore the pain radiating through your arm and make fun of the situation.

Chishiya didn't have much time to start patching you up right now, you had to leave this place as soon as possible to get to safety.

"Wait a moment, i'll be right back," he said and left you there on your own for a moment, running to the room where you had previously been. For a minute you were afraid he had actually left you here to bleed out, not wanting to deal with your injuries.

Chishiya grabbed a first aid kid, towel and brought them with him as he hurried back to you as fast as he was possibly able to run.

"Hold these," he said and gave you the kit and the towel, then scooping you in his arms. He knew he couldn't run very fast carrying you, but it would be faster than dragging you by his side.

It didn't take too long for people to burn the witch and finish the game just before the time would run down to zero. You had finally passed the last game.

As you sat outside and watched the mansion burn down among all the other survivors, Chishiya was by your side sewing the bullet wound shut with a needle and thread. The bullet had exited your body on the back, so Chishiya was more than thankful that he wouldn't need to start operating on you any deeper.

You had started to look pale and feel dizzy for all the blood loss, but you managed to stay conscious. He had wrapped the towel tightly around your leg. It had been white, but was now dyed half red.

"Shiya..." you mumbled, but he didn't lift his face towards you, only concentrated on stitching you up. "I promise i'm not getting hurt on purpose just to get you to touch me."

Your words did amuse Chishiya and you could see a slight smirk on his face.

"Good, because i don't have any more supplies to left to treat your wounds," Chishiya said and cut the thread off, leaving you with clean stitches on your skin. He finally looked into your eyes, looking serious and worried. "Let me know immediately if the stitches open and you start bleeding again, got it?"

"Are you like a doctor or something?" you smiled and bit your lip.

"Something like that," he answered, and you could see a little smile on his lips as well.

"I've never slept with a doctor before," you admitted. "Before the Beach, i mean."

"Was it on your to-do list?"

"Might have been," you said. "Along with a firefighter, of course."

"Too bad we didn't have firefighters at the Beach," Chishiya concluded. "Would have saved us a lot of trouble. Or if there was, they clearly failed their job miserably."

"Perhaps," you said slowly. "I would have still chosen a doctor first though."

"Hm, really?" Chishiya wondered. "Good to know. So, your type is men who can save you from trouble?"

"I'm not a damsel in distress," you scoffed, coming off as offended and a bit too defensive.

"And still i did have to carry you out of there," Chishiya pointed out.

"Shut up," you said and gently hit him on his shoulder.

"You'll promise to take it slow with your arm and leg, okay?" he stated seriously.

"Of course, doctor," you teased and bit your lip. "How can i ever repay you for taking such a good care of me?"

"I have a few things in my mind, but i think we should go somewhere private first," Chishiya reminded and sat next to you, putting his hand around your waist for a moment.

"Why aren't we already leaving then?" you asked and brushed your finger against his collarbone, right by the zipper of his hoodie.

"Tempting, but i'd rather have you rest for a moment," Chishiya said and pulled you tighter against his body, whispering right into your ear: "But don't worry, i'll make sure to find us some time alone."

His hot breath against your ear sent chills down your spine.

♤♡♧◇

A/N: I'll have update for the Child of Hearts too at some point no worries, just have to figure out some scenes for it and shape it a lil bit 🫶🏻

#chishiya shuntaro imagine #chishiya imagine #chishiya alice in borderland #aib x reader #aib chishiya #aib imagine #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader

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animasola86 · 13 hours ago

Text

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH4

After agreeing to become their little girl, you are woken up by Mommy, who has special plans to ease you into your first day of your new life.

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Pet names. Dom/sub undertones. Shared shower. Nudity. Vaginal fingering/assisted masturbation. “Self” care/makeover/waxing. Angst/humiliation. Hurt/comfort. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 8k 🔷️ READ ON AO3

A/N: This chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 2 and keeps focusing on Reader's new life as the Little Girl of Mommy and Daddy. All following chapters (unless stated otherwise) will follow the past-timeline and show how Reader ended up like she did in chapters 1 and 3. (For more info on Reader, check out the Notes in Chapter 1.) ❗ Please read THIS if you're confused about the tags I listed this under!

Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4 🔷️ Chapter 5

Several months earlier

You woke up after that first night, completely knocked out and overwhelmed, to someone gently shaking you, lips pressing to your pillow-wrinkled cheek, a soft voice cooing for you to wake up. Mommy was there, and while your first instinct was to groan and turn back around and ask for five more minutes, not quite realizing where you were, she basically dragged you out of bed and into the bathroom.

While she certainly meant well, you felt very uncomfortable as she helped you out of the clothes you slept in and into the shower. You wanted to protest, against the fact that you were naked in front of a stranger, and also, didn't you just shower last night? With your mind still hazy with sleep, you wondered if rich people did it like this, showering every night and every morning, possibly several times a day? They definitely didn't have to worry about too much water consumption, apparently. But then the strangest thing happened: the woman you were supposed to call Mommy stripped down as well and stepped in after you, and your muddled mind was silenced immediately.

You were so surprised and more than taken aback by it that you just stood there, with your back to her, not even daring to take another look at her beautiful body. She was a bit taller than you and had all the right curves in all the right places, perfect skin, not a single hair anywhere on her body, except for her long black locks that she wore in a messy bun atop her head, and when she stepped behind you, her hands found your shoulders before she wrapped your unruly tresses around her fingers and brought them up in the same fashion, then slipped a hair tie over the mess to keep it in place.

Then she leaned past you (her perfect breasts pressing against your shoulder blades) and turned the shower on, and while you expected to be hit by either ice cold or scorching hot water, the temperature was perfect right away. That alone was a luxury you'd never experienced before. She angled the shower head to spray down below your chin to keep your head and hair dry.

You were still just standing there, baffled and embarrassed to be this close to such a gorgeous woman (though your main concern was how you felt like a literal child whose Mommy had to help them showering, but you figured that was part of her wanting to take care of you). As you woke up more and more, you became more and more aware and self-conscious of your neglected body. For months, self-care hadn't been an option for you, too much hassle, and for what? But now you wished you could have prepared yourself for this experience in some way, shaved maybe? Made yourself more presentable?

The question remained: what did this woman see in you to treat you like this?

Your anxiety spiked when you felt her soap-covered hands on your body, first on your arms, then she went straight to your breasts, cupping them, squeezing them lightly, rubbing the suds into your skin. You froze, holding your breath, clenching your hands into fists. It was such an intimate gesture, you weren't ready for it. A little sob escaped you, and you felt her pausing, before she leaned closer again, pressing her body against your backside.

“Are you okay, honey?” she asked directly into your ear, her velvety voice causing you to shiver deeply. “You gotta tell me if you don't like what I do, okay? This is for you. If you don't want it, I'll stop.”

You took a shuddering breath. “N-no,” you urged out. “I... I mean... it's okay... it's just... all so new...”

Her laugh echoed through the steam-filled room. “Never been touched by a woman before, sweet girl?”

“N-never had somebody... take care of me like this...” you whispered breathlessly, the thick air and her closeness making you dizzy.

You felt her lips on your cheek, the touch lingering as she spoke softly: “You better get used to this. We have so much love and care to give, you have no idea.”

It could have sounded like a threat, but you closed your eyes and nodded, leaning against her when she continued the gentle groping of your boobs. She chuckled again, bringing her lips down to your shoulder. Her hands moved lower eventually, rubbing over your stomach and down your hips, and you still couldn't move, you just endured (or silently enjoyed it?), but when you could feel her stepping around you, one of her hands slipping down your front while the other curved around your rear, you flinched badly.

Your feet squeaked on the tiled floor, and you almost lost your footing, but instead of getting away from her, she grabbed you a little harder, her hands on your waist, pulling you back, gently but firmly. Your chest was rising and falling faster, your heart nearly exploding behind your ribs. She shushed you, kissing along your neck as she returned her hands where she initially wanted to bring them.

“It's okay, sweetheart, let Mommy see, yes?” she cooed into your ear, and you stiffened, inhaling deeply and holding your breath as her hand brushed down your tense belly and directly between your legs.

You felt so embarrassed. You were not as spotless as she was, some would say natural, and while you let everything grow because you couldn't care about it anymore in the months of your slow downfall, you wished you could go back to not caring now. But you cared, you didn't want this woman to touch you in places nobody had touched in a very long time, yourself included, at least not this intimately.

You tried to squirm away, but she grabbed your ass in response, holding you in place. You let out a quiet yelp. “It's alright,” she said calmly, her lips back at your ear, the touch scorching hot. “I will not hurt you. I will not judge you. You are a beautiful girl, sweetheart, and nothing will ever hide that.” As she spoke, she started rubbing her fingers along your slit, a gentle touch, just a caress, every stroke of her hand accentuated by more soothing words. “You deserve to be loved, my sweet thing. Loved and touched and pampered. Do not be shy, do not be embarrassed. There's no need. You are beautiful. So beautiful...”

Her voice lulled you, made you relax into her ministrations, and as she finished her soothing pep talk, her fingers dipped between your labia, a little gasp escaped you, your lips parting, and before you knew it, she had caught it by pressing her mouth to yours, kissing you softly as she rubbed her fingertip slowly up and down until it prodded your entrance, and while her tongue pushed into your mouth, her digit pushed into your clenching cunt.

Your moan was swallowed by her own little inhale. Her other hand slid up your back until her palm was pressed to your neck, holding you steady as she continued to kiss and finger you, and all you could do was melt into her caresses, meeting her tongue with your own, gliding your lips against hers, even grinding your hips into her hand. Your head was spinning, breathless and overwhelmed as you were, and the more she touched you, the less vulnerable you felt.

The way she moved her fingers (she seemed to have added another one) inside you, slow and careful, pressing as deep as her knuckles allowed, fingernails scraping gently along your tight walls, it all felt very good very quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, your breaths rasping out of you, new air barely able to reach your lungs as she kept plunging her tongue into your mouth. You felt like floating, surrounded by warm water and even warmer steam, pressed against a soft body, her hand closing around your nape, and all those touches sent more tingles down your spine, shivers and shudders, that all gathered low in your stomach, and lower, making your clit throb.

And it was when she suddenly pressed her thumb against that sensitive bundle of nerves that you yelped against her mouth, eyes flying open, a strange assortment of white and black spots dancing at the edge of your vision. Your legs trembled badly the more she rubbed at your clit, her fingers still plunging in and out, a little curl to them now, hitting different spots deep inside you. You stared at her, or tried to, she looked blurry, and you tried to blink your eyes back into focus, but instead a loud moan was ripped from your throat when she moved her fingers and her thumb in a clawing motion, pressing directly against your clit and g-spot.

You shook, your limbs twitching, and your hands found her waist for support as you gasped for air like a fish out of water, your eyes rolling back, your head reeling, and for a moment you felt as if you'd left your own body, floating away, without a care in the world...

You came back when she pulled her fingers out and kept caressing your sensitive labia, and every brush against your hood gave you another deep shudder. You clung to her, your forehead resting on her shoulder, your breaths labored and raw, your heart thundering in your chest. She rubbed your back with her free hand, soothing you with words you couldn't understand. The first that did make it through the cotton in your head, dug themselves deep into your soul:

“Good girl.”

A smile appeared on your trembling lips, the praise like an additional caress down your spine. You found yourself hugging the woman you barely knew and somehow trusted a lot more now, your arms snaking around her waist as you pressed yourself into her. She embraced you gently, holding you as the water sprayed against your shoulder. You felt her lips on your forehead, her exhale warm against your skin.

The rest of the shower was a blur. She kept washing you, rubbing her hands over your warm skin, and she even nudged you to touch her as well, which was yet another overwhelming experience as you weighed her big breasts in your small hands.

She continued to be gentle and patient with you, giving you time when you needed it, but also pushed you a little to get you out of your old habits. As embarrassing as it should have been, it was also refreshing and comforting to know that even if you might fall back into your dark hole whenever new and old doubts would resurface, Mommy was there to pull you back out.

By the time you were out of the shower and wrapped in a large, fluffy towel, a knock sounded on the door. You froze, but the other woman just huffed a sigh and walked to open it, still as naked as before, no shame whatsoever. Your eyes widened when you saw the tall man appearing in the door frame, his eyes first grazing the woman before they wandered to you. He smiled softly.

“Good morning,” Daddy said, his smile widening when he saw you blushing deeply, pulling the towel tighter around your body. He looked back at Mommy then, raising an eyebrow. “You beat me to it, huh?” he mused.

The woman laughed, nudging his bearded chin with her index finger. “Gotta be faster, old man,” she teased with a soft laugh.

You watched the two silently, frozen to the spot, acutely aware of just wearing a towel, your exposed skin warming up badly as your eyes wandered from Mommy's naked backside to Daddy's tall frame behind her. He wasn't wearing a suit today, but a tight shirt and formfitting sweatpants, and his hair was tousled, cheeks a little flushed. Had he been running? Probably, with a body like that –

“How are you feeling today, darling?” he addressed you, ripping you from your thoughts. Your face heated up even more.

“Really good,” you whispered shyly, chewing on your bottom lip as you met his gaze.

“I'm glad,” he replied, tilting his head slightly, his eyes crinkling.

“And she'll feel even better today. I'm taking her to the salon,” Mommy interrupted the moment by pressing a hand to Daddy's chest. “You can have her tomorrow.”

He sighed, bringing his gaze back to the woman in front of him. “Don't do anything she doesn't want to do, okay?” he told her quietly. “Don't scare her away on her first day...”

She laughed, turning back to you. Your heart skipped a beat. “Don't worry, we already established our bond, didn't we, honey?”

You lowered your eyes, your blush spreading all over your shoulders. “Yes, Mommy,” you whispered. It still felt a little weird to call her that, but seeing her reaction to it made up for the awkwardness. She mewled softly and turned around fully, extending her arms until she could pull you into a tight hug.

“My sweet girl,” she cooed, kissing your hairline. You leaned against her warm body, meeting Daddy's curious gaze over her shoulder.

“You'll be okay,” he told you with a gentle smile. “But remember: you can say no, we will not force you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Won't we?” he added pointedly, making Mommy turn her head to him. She gave him a smirk and a wink, and he sighed.

She let go of you then, taking a step back to him. “Go take your own shower now,” she told him, poking his chest. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her a little closer, eyeing her darkly.

“Don't tell me what to do,” he whispered.

“Make me,” she replied with a chuckle.

You watched them with growing curiosity, still wondering what kind of relationship these two actually had. For a moment they just stared at each other, before Mommy leaned up on her toes and pressed her full lips against his.

“Let us have our Girls Day, okay, papito?”

“Fine,” he said with an exhale, his other hand moving along her bare shoulders up to her nape before he grabbed the messy bun on top of her head and pulled her back a little. “But I mean it: I still want to recognize her later.”

Her turn to sigh. “Of course, don't worry,” she replied, putting her hand on his cheek, giving it a soft pat. “Unless she wants a complete makeover. This is about her,” she added, turning her head back to you. “Isn't it, sweet thing?”

You blushed when the attention was back on you.

“We'll do whatever makes you happy, okay, honey?”

“Okay,” you mouthed a little breathlessly. Your eyes wandered between the two adults (the longer you stood watching them, the smaller and younger you felt, no matter the fact that you were technically an adult yourself). You weren't used to all this attention, but it grew on you. It made you feel warm and seen (even if you'd prefer to wear more clothes while being looked at).

Daddy let go of Mommy then, taking a half-step into the bathroom. “Can I get a hug before I leave you in Mommy's care, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, extending a hand towards you.

Your body's immediate reaction was a sudden jerk, a clear indication that you wanted to sink into his strong arms and never emerge from them again, but your mind was still a little timid, and then there was Mommy, stepping between you and the tall man.

“Get away, you're all gross and sweaty. I just cleaned her!” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He lowered his hand slowly, his eyes still on you. There was a darkness within them, a strange look that made your stomach twist in a weird way, warm and tense, like a throb, a clench, an itch. “I... I don't mind,” you heard yourself stammering. Before you knew it, you took a step forward, your bare feet padding on the tiles, and when his smile widened, you extended a hand to put it onto his big palm. At the same time as he pulled you closer, you heard Mommy sighing. She stepped away, and you hoped she wouldn't be too mad, but you couldn't resist him – and the urge growing inside your own body.

He wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, and you found yourself pressed to his chest. It was warm, his scent filling your nostrils, filling your head, a mixture of body wash and sweat, a masculine smell that made you dizzy, but in a good way. You carefully snaked your arms around his waist and held onto him, closing your eyes for a moment.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Have a good time today, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you murmured into him.

He squeezed you a little more at that, his inhale loud and almost surprised. As he embraced you, you suddenly felt another presence behind you. Mommy's arms joined yours in encircling the tall man as she pressed herself into you. His arms loosened, leaving you, pulling her closer against your back. You gasped a little as they hugged you tightly, and you would have never expected to feel this comfortable in a Mommy-and-Daddy-sandwich.

It was certainly strange to go from nobody caring about you, to having these two people taking such an interest in you. And they weren't lying. They had a lot of love and care to give, you could feel it in the way they held you and spoke to you. And you'd only met them yesterday! How was this possible?

But you didn't want to question it, you just wanted to melt into their warmth and strength, enjoy the moment, neither look back nor ahead. It felt good. Good enough to bring tears into your eyes. A little sob escaped you, and you buried your face firmer into Daddy's chest. Mommy let go first, and before you knew it, Daddy's hands were on your shoulders, leaning you back a little.

Looking up, you realized your vision was blurry. As you tried to blink your eyes into focus, you felt his fingers wiping at your wet cheeks, a concerned look on his handsome face.

“I... I'm fine,” you murmured quickly, sniffling quietly. “These are... happy tears...”

His relieved exhale hit your forehead before he leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. Meeting his gaze, you couldn't help it, you turned your head a little bit and used his closeness to brush your lips fully against his. His hands held you still for a moment, the kiss, if you could call it that, a lingering press, before he leaned back with a deep sigh.

“Sorry, darling, today's Mommy's day,” he whispered, giving you a wink. “We can expand on this tomorrow, okay?” As his fingers curled around your ear, his thumb rubbed over your bottom lip. “Trust me, I can't wait...”

You gave him a shy smile, your face properly burning now. He eventually let go of you fully and stepped back. Mommy put her hands on your shoulders. “See you later, Daddy,” she cooed.

“Bye, ladies, have fun,” he said with a little wave, his eyes fixed on you.

“Bye, Daddy,” you whispered, watching how his eyes sparkled when he winked at you, before he turned around and left the room.

You were still buzzing, basically floating, so when Mommy told you to wash your face and brush your teeth and use the toilet, you did as she told you, ignoring how degrading this should have felt, being told to do the most basic things, things a person your age should be able to do on her own. But it also felt good, having someone push you to do so, and she didn't sound condescending or mocking, but caring and sweet now that you were alone again.

Once you were all ready for the day, you stood, still in your towel, in the middle of the room (your room) while she pulled out various clothes, watching you as she did so, assessing your build and size, and in the end she chose a pair of pink panties for you and a matching bra that was a little loose but she assured you to buy better fitting things for you soon. You wondered then who all those clothes belonged to, they looked too girly to have been hers, and the wide array of different sizes also made you curious.

She looked at you as she held a knee-length pink dress to your chest. “We bought these for our old subs,” she said nonchalantly as if reading your mind. “I told you we've been looking for the right girl for a while. And we tried, tested a few, but none of them would really fit our needs, you know? You, however,” she added, putting the dress down to place her hands on your shoulders as she looked down at you with a soft smile, “you are what we're looking for. I can already tell. You belong here, and soon we'll fill this closet with your own things, and only yours, okay?”

You stared at her, your throat tight. Knowing that other girls had spent their time in this room, with these people, with your Mommy and Daddy, made you feel strangely small and insignificant. Like one of many. And you wondered when they would realize that you might not fit their needs either so they could move to the next girl. But you still hoped beyond hope that what she said was true. “So... so you won't... send me away again?”

“Oh, sweet thing, of course not, unless you want to leave, but I really hope you'll stay with us. We can give you anything you need, and you'd make us so happy too!” She pulled you against her bare chest (she still hadn't bothered putting on any clothes and you really envied her confidence), her arms tight around your shoulders as you gingerly hugged her back, feeling the soft slope of her spine under your clammy palms.

She kissed your forehead and let go again, smiling down at you. You felt the need to reassure her. “I'll... stay, I want to stay,” you whispered, biting your lip as a little smile played around the corner of your mouth.

Her hands found your face. “I'm glad,” she breathed, her lips brushing against yours, and then she really kissed you, a hard press, a confident lick against the seam of your mouth before you indulged her and kissed her back, timidly moving your tongue and lips against hers. “You taste so sweet,” she muttered, sighing deeply as she moved her lips down your jaw to your neck, giving your pulse a little suck that made you flinch a little. “I can't wait to taste more of you...”

Her words sent another deep shudder down your spine that ultimately gathered right in your throbbing clit. You had no idea what it was about this woman, about this whole situation, but anything she did to you, any touch, any word, made you feel like you never felt before. It was all warm and cozy, but it could turn hot and overwhelming in the blink of an eye. You slipped from feeling comfortable to completely aroused, back and forth, and it should be weird, but it wasn't. It felt right.

Mommy gave you another press of her lips to your neck before she leaned away, letting go of you to pick up the pink dress. “Alright, let's get ready for our Girls Day, shall we?” she said happily, shoving the dress into your hands. “Get dressed, I'll do the same, and I'll meet you here soon, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy,” you whispered, enduring/savoring another tight hug and a squeal from her, before she did what she told you and left the room, as naked as she was, her hips swaying as she went.

Later, you sat next to her in the back of the car again. She had put on a dark blue blouse and wide-legged pants, the pointy tips of her high heels poking out from the wide hem as she crossed her legs and leaned back into her seat, her hand on your thigh as she smiled at you. You smiled back shyly, feeling rather small next to her, in your soft pink dress, your magenta tights and those white little sneakers she gave you.

You had never cared much about being girly or wearing bright colors before, but it felt okay when somebody else told you to do so. The way she looked at you, so proud and happy, made it all worth it, even if you didn't quite feel like yourself anymore. But that was the point of this, wasn't it? To get you out of your old habits and show you something new, a new side of yourself. It could only get better from here, right?

Well.

Before it got better, it got a lot worse when you found yourself in a small room with a woman telling you to strip for her. Mommy was there too, but the stranger made you feel very uncomfortable. You were in one of those beauty salons you'd never seen the inside of. The woman seemed nice enough, or rather passive more likely, because it was her job to groom and take care of other people and she probably saw many different kinds of women each day, but you couldn't shake the feeling of a deep-rooted shame as you pulled your dress over your head, exposing yourself, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed and very insecure to show this stranger your neglected body.

Mommy helped you, her eager hands pulling down your tights (and panties) in one swift move, and you gasped and squirmed, trying to cover yourself, but she shushed you quietly. “It's okay, no need to be shy. I'm right here, you can do this.” You inhaled sharply, trying to focus on her as you stepped out of your tights, watching her put your clothes onto a nearby chair before she snaked her hands around your torso and unclasped your bra, adding it to the pile.

“Sit down please,” the other woman told you. When you looked at her, you noticed her almost bored looking gaze, as if she indeed did this several times a day. Nevertheless, you didn't, never had done this before, and when you scooted up on the reclined chair covered in a soft towel, you felt close to tears.

Clamping your thighs together, you put your hands on your breasts (wondering why you had to expose them in the first place when this was about trimming your body hair), when you felt Mommy's hands on yours as she leaned over you from behind. “Relax, baby girl,” she told you, turning her head to kiss your cheek. “Just relax. Lean back, close your eyes, and let the nice lady do her job, okay?”

And you tried. She kept her hands on your chest to ground you, giving your boobs gentle squeezes whenever you flinched or winced or squirmed as the nice lady began working on you. She started on your legs, and while you thought she might shave them as you would have done, she waxed them, and it felt strange when she applied the warm wax, but even worse when she suddenly ripped the sheets she pressed down onto your leg away again, causing you to squeak and almost kick her in the face.

Mommy kept close to you, hugging you, soothing you, her fingers drawing distracting circles around your nipples. You turned your head to her, your face flushed, watching her soft smile, the twinkle in her eyes, and somehow you made it through the torture of having your legs waxed. But then you felt a nudge against your thigh.

Looking back to the woman, you noticed her adding something to the chair you were resting on. Some sort of stirrups, and you realized you'd have to spread your legs and put them on there, because she –

– was about to wax your sex next. Oh dear God.

A whimper escaped you, your thighs pressing even tighter together, and you looked back at Mommy, pleading with her. She shook her head and caressed your cheek. “It's okay, honey, it won't hurt for long.” But it will hurt, you wanted to tell her, your eyes widening. “You're a big girl, aren't you? You can take it.”

And somehow her well-meant words made you feel even worse. Shame flooded your entire body, your blush spreading down to your chest. Your legs were still burning and irritated, the skin tight, and to imagine the same procedure between your thighs? But being treated like a little girl in front of this stranger gave you a weird boost of confidence, reverse-psychology-style. Because you were not a little girl, you were a grown ass woman, you should be able to deal with this! Clenching your jaw, you inhaled deeply, looking up at the ceiling as you lifted your legs and put them into the contraptions of the chair.

You forced yourself to ignore the cold breeze against your pussy lips, the way the woman stepped closer, the way her gloved fingers applied the wax over the coarse hairs of your mound. Your own hands clamped down on the edge of the seat, your breaths labored as you waited for the inevitable pain to shoot through your body. But when it came, you still jerked, a scream escaping your tight throat that was quickly silenced as you felt Mommy's hands on your face, making you look at her.

You felt tears burning in your eyes, the throbbing pain between your legs only part of the sudden waterworks. Her gaze was stern and hard, and you couldn't look away. You kept chewing on your bottom lip, wondering if you'd disappointed her by being so squeamish about this. If she'd change her mind about you being the perfect one. As the first tear rolled down your cheek, her gaze softened, her thumb tracing the path it took to your jaw.

She leaned in then, pressing her lips against your forehead, while another jolt of pain ripped through you as more of your hair was pulled out. You flinched, but you also forced yourself not to scream again. You did bite your tongue and tasted blood, but you didn't want to show her how much you suffered. She had brought you here, probably spent quite a sum to give you this treatment (and you were in dire need of it too, even if you couldn't really handle the pain and shame it brought with it), and you knew you should be grateful. And you were, you would be, afterwards, when the pain was gone and your skin smooth again, but right now all you could do was cry quietly and endure.

You felt dizzy by the end of it, barely able to move your limbs. So you let the woman arrange you how she needed you, noticing that Mommy had shifted behind the chair, looking down at you, holding your hands above your head as your arms were being lifted, more wax came down and more pain throbbed through you, your armpits burning like they'd never done before. Through bleary eyes you watched her, squeezing her hands back, feeling lightheaded and disoriented.

And then it was over, finally. Someone pulled you off the chair and onto trembling legs, Mommy helped you get dressed again. Your skin was warm and tight, but as smooth as it had ever been. The shame of the procedure was just a little flame in the back of your mind now, somehow you felt too numb to care anymore.

Once you were in your tights and dress again, you were guided into another room, onto another chair, and while Mommy sat down on a stool next to you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, you felt a new pair of hands on your head, fingers loosening the messy bun on top before slipping through the wild strands. You inhaled deeply and leaned into the chair, letting them do their thing. It hurt when they brushed through the unruly mess that was your hair, it hurt when they plugged your eyebrows into shape, it hurt and stung and the shame flared up from time to time, but you tried to focus on Mommy and her beautiful face, as she watched you closely, never not paying attention to you.

That might have been the weirdest thing. The way she always watched you, so attentively. Nobody had ever looked at you like this, not even your own mother, who had always been busy with other things, your siblings, one of her husbands, her phone, the TV, anything else, while you tried to tell her about that drawing you made in preschool that day. You remember that you eventually gave up telling her anything, and the older you got, the more you distanced yourself from her, because it wasn't worth it anymore. She just didn't seem to care, and she did a very bad job at hiding it also.

But this woman, the one you met yesterday, looked at you with so much care in her pretty eyes, held your hand between hers, warm and gentle but firm, showing you she was there. She cared, she barely knew you, but she cared, and it brought another tear into your eye that you quickly wiped with your free hand, before giving her a brave smile as your head was jerked back a little again. And because she cared, you cared too, you wanted to show her that you were indeed a big girl, that this didn't hurt, that it wasn't uncomfortable, that you could endure.

This was for your own good anyway (even if it felt like torture). She was trying to make you your own person again, bring you back into the world that had spat you out so ruthlessly.

Eventually, you relaxed into whatever was happening around you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your hand gave hers the occasional squeeze, and you just lay there, thinking about your new life, thinking back to the tall man waiting his turn back home (your home... what a twist), and you wondered how he would spend the day with you. Would he do Dad-things with you? Take you to some sports event? Watch TV with you? Go fishing, maybe? You realized you had no idea what a father would even do with his kid, because neither your biological father nor any of your various step-fathers had ever shown any interest in you.

Then again, maybe you shouldn't focus on the Dad-things, but the Daddy-things. Because quite frankly, you didn't want this man to be your father, you wanted him to be there for you, hold you and kiss you, be something more to you, you wanted to sit on his lap again, lean against him, feel his warmth and strength, and his hands all over you...

A little gasp escaped you as you felt your core clenching around nothing, a little throb, then a little drip into your underwear. It had been a long while since you were attracted to anyone in any way, and somehow, after just a few moments with that man you knew practically nothing about, you felt your heart beating faster just thinking about him. But when you opened your eyes, coming back from your mind to notice the woman still holding your hand, you realized it wasn't just him.

You also liked her, the way she touched you, kissed you, how confident she was, how she made you feel both small and comfortable at the same time. You had never questioned your sexuality, never really considered yourself one or the other or anything else for that matter (you had a boyfriend in high school, and girlfriends you'd play around with, but it was never as intense and eye-opening as whatever you were experiencing right now).

It was all new and exciting, and knowing you had the attention of a beautiful woman and a handsome man was just mind-boggling to you. It felt like a dream, and not even the throbbing pain still coursing through your body seemed to be able to wake you up from it.

At the end of it all, you sat in the car again, next to Mommy, who still held your hand. After getting a new haircut (only a little trim), she'd taken you to the nail salon, and together you chose a subtle pink for your nails. They remained short and natural, but it felt so much better knowing they added to the overall transformation of your once neglected body. You did feel like a new person, a new girl, a young woman, ready to begin a new chapter of her life.

The trunk of the car was full of bags, filled with dresses and skirts, blouses and shirts, sweaters and cardigans, socks and tights and a variety of shoes, all of it girly, elegant, but also comfortable and chic, a whole closet full of things that only fit you. Buying underwear was another ordeal with Mommy, but in the end she found you beautiful pieces, ranging from cute and modest to really extravagant and barely covering anything.

And you felt good seeing yourself in them, confident despite all those areas you didn't particularly like – because apparently there was underwear that didn't have to be too loose or too tight, like the ones you'd bought before, the cheap ones. These new ones hugged your body like a second skin, accentuated the good parts and hid the bad ones, making you feel so much better about yourself.

During your shopping trip, Mommy bought you lunch and later a milkshake, walking with her hand around yours. While she did most of the talking, small talk mostly that you appreciated very much, you felt more and more at ease with her. Yesterday she'd been a stranger, and now, she was your Mommy, someone who took care of you, who laughed with you, who made you feel comfortable.

When the car returned to the mansion, the adventures of the day weighed you down more than you thought. You were tired, still a little sore from the waxing, but overall you were happier than you'd been in ages. Mommy helped you out of the car and pulled you towards the entrance door, while the driver started carrying all those bags into the house. In the kitchen, you were met by a delicious smell, and a large frame that made your heart beat faster.

“You've returned,” Daddy greeted you (looking so incredibly handsome in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up over his strong forearms), putting down a dish towel before he approached you. Mommy let go of your hand and gave you a gentle nudge that you didn't really need, because in the next second you had fallen against the tall man's chest, your arms tight around his waist. “Aww, did you miss Daddy, baby girl?” he cooed, embracing you just as tightly.

You mumbled your confirmation against him, closing your eyes as you just leaned into him, no longer wondering why it felt so easy to be this close to these people. It just felt right. The way they looked at you, treated you, paid attention to you, all the trouble they went through for you. It was special, and you embraced it by embracing them, knowing how easy it was to please them with just a few words and a few simple displays of affection.

Eventually, he leaned you back by holding your shoulders, his eyes wandering over your flushed face and your bouncy new hair. His fingers stroked along your tresses, twirling the ends playfully. “Looks really good on you,” he told you, and you smiled shyly. “You're even more beautiful now, sweet girl,” he added quietly as he bent down to press his lips against your cheek.

You squirmed away with a soft giggle when he nuzzled your jaw, his hands roaming down your body to tease at your ribs. You fell into a full-on laughing fit when he continued tickling you, digging his fingers into your sides, while his teeth grazed along your pulse, your own hands grasping helplessly at his forearms.

“What a sweet sound,” he breathed against you before he stopped and grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly until his arms rested just beneath your rear, holding you up. You put your hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with your cheeks aflame and tears burning in your eyes, still smiling at him. “My sweet little pumpkin.”

You scrunched your nose at the nickname, making him grin even wider at you.

“Can I call you pumpkin, sweet girl?” he asked quietly, shifting you on his arms.

You considered it, wondering how he even got to calling you that, but then couldn't find a reason for him not to call you so. It did sound rather nice. “You can call me anything you want, Daddy,” you whispered breathlessly, your heart beating even faster.

“Yeah?”

You nodded, biting your lip. He turned you both around then and sat you down on the counter, leaning on his arms as he caged you in. His face was inches away from yours, his hot breath ghosting your lips. You watched him with growing anticipation, that tension in your stomach intensifying with every rapid heartbeat. He leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours, his eyes boring into your own, so intense, so hungry, and he tilted his head, your lips parted in preparation –

“So what's for dinner?” cut Mommy's voice through your special moment.

Daddy closed his eyes and leaned back slowly, exhaling loudly. You watched him, still holding your breath, your hands curled tight around the edge of the counter, your knees pressed together so hard your legs were trembling. He brushed his hands over your thighs, fingers teasing between them only for a second before he was gone, stepping away to the other side of the kitchen island, while Mommy took his place in front of you.

You saw them exchanging a long gaze, something dark glinting in Mommy's eyes. Her hands found your knees, and without looking at you, she forced them apart with a strength you hadn't expected from her. Gasping softly, you stared at her, and when her hands disappeared under the skirt of your dress, you stiffened. She looked back at you then, her eyes as intense as Daddy's had been.

“Girls Day isn't over yet, sweetheart,” she whispered, tilting her head before she leaned closer, brushing her full lips against yours. Her fingers moved around your rear before they slipped under the waistband of your tights. Your heart skipped several beats as she started pulling them down, and you squirmed on the counter, struggling between allowing her the motion and fighting it.

“You should give her a break,” sounded Daddy's voice from behind her, and when you looked past her as she lowered her head with a deep sigh, you saw concern and something else in his dark eyes.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Mommy whispered quietly, slowly turning around enough to look at him. Her hands were still halfway down your tights, her body wedged between your spread legs.

He stared at her, narrowing his eyes. “It's her first day, babe,” he said, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

She gritted her teeth, looking away until her suddenly cold eyes found yours. Your breath hitched in your throat. “But Mommy's hungry,” she muttered, licking her upper lip. You swallowed thickly, watching the exchange with bated breath, not quite understanding what was going on.

“Have dinner then,” he replied from behind her. “Greta made ravioli.”

Slowly, she slipped her hands from inside your tights and grabbed the waistband, shifting you back into them with a jerk. You gasped softly, scooting back on the counter. Then she gripped your chin and made you look at her. “Fine,” she said quietly. “Let's have dinner. I'll have you for dessert then, hm, sweet cheeks?”

She pulled you closer to her and smashed her lips against yours, inhaling deeply before leaning back again, letting go of you abruptly and stepping away, her heels clicking over the hardwood floor. And you sat there, on the counter, with your lips parted and trembling, confusion washing over you as you followed her with wide eyes.

Daddy extended a hand to you and, once you grabbed it hesitantly, helped you off the counter. Still holding your hand, he bent down to whisper softly: “Don't mind her, she gets cranky when she's hungry.” He winked at you then, squeezing your fingers.

You blinked up at him in even bigger confusion, but eventually you let it slide and let him pull you through the kitchen and into the dining room.

“By the way, I haven't asked before, so I told our chef to make something vegan. Do you eat meat, pumpkin? Do you have any allergies?” Daddy asked quietly as he pulled out a chair and motioned you to sit down.

“I, uh, I do, eat meat, I mean. And no allergies I know of,” you replied with a stammer, your legs still shaking a little.

“Good, that's perfect,” he mused and walked around you, sitting down at the head of the long table, while Mommy sat across from you, studying her nails.

Between you was a large plate covered by one of those fancy metal hoods, and when Daddy lifted it, a heavenly smell distracted you from the strange tension around you. There were three different types of handmade ravioli, big ones, not those tiny ones you'd eat straight out of the can, they looked so fancy and professional and delicious of all things, and when you listened to his explanation of which was which, you couldn't decide which one to choose, so you took one of each, earning you a little laugh from Daddy.

“That's a good appetite,” he praised, taking one for himself before he held out the prongs to Mommy. She turned her head to him, her eyes narrowed, and when she closed her fingers around his, you could see her knuckles blanching.

“Shopping makes hungry, you know?” she said pointedly, snatching the prongs out of his grip to put two ravioli onto her own plate.

He just sighed and lifted his fork. “Well, dig in, and again, welcome to your new home, pumpkin,” he added with a nod towards you.

You smiled shyly, nodding back. “Thank you,” you mumbled timidly, before you inhaled deeply, looking over the table to Mommy who seemed to poke at her food with quite the disinterest. “Really, thank you for everything, Mommy,” you said a little louder. “I had a great time today.”

She looked up then, her hard gaze softening immediately. Her hand reached across the table to brush against yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Me too, cariño,” she whispered, a small smile grazing her lips.

Seeing her relax again made your heart beat a little faster.

“Aren't you two the sweetest,” Daddy mused, his fork halfway up to his mouth. “Eat up now before it gets cold.”

Mommy pulled her hand away and focused back on her plate, ignoring Daddy's comment. You looked at him, feeling your cheeks burning up when he gave you another wink, before you turned back to your food as well.

Your mind was reeling from all the impressions of this single day. It was still something of a blur, a dreamlike experience, and occasionally a few doubts would poke through the cotton in your head, making you wonder when you'd wake up again. But you didn't. It seemed real enough. A real dinner, with real food, and real people. People who watched you, who offered you more, who reached out to scrape sauce off your cheek.

It had been twenty-four hours, and yet it felt as if you'd known these people way longer. The way they cared for you made it all so much easier. It was a dream, but a dream come true. And somehow you knew that there was a lot more on the horizon.

Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4 🔷️ Chapter 5

End notes: Probably should have mentioned it earlier, but the whole waxing/makeover scene is only to show how Reader's depression made it impossible for her to take care of herself, it's not to shame anyone choosing to have body hair, because that is of course a choice. Please do not take offense in Mommy's ideals, she just wants to make Reader feel pretty in her own, slightly controlling way (that could be considered a bit dubcon if you squint, but really, Reader just isn't in a state of mind where she knows what she wants yet, so this is all some good-natured nudging).

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: You are back in Daddy's arms, and he has his own special plans for you...

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

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arxiwon · 2 days ago

Text

Love That Hurts | sjy

Pairing: Jake x fem!reader

Genre: angst

Synopsis

Love was supposed to feel safe, like home. But for Jake and the person he loves, it has turned into something unrecognizable—a cycle of arguments, misunderstandings, and silent battles neither of them know how to win.

Despite the love they still hold for each other, their relationship is crumbling under the weight of unspoken fears and unfulfilled promises. Every night ends in the same fight, every apology feels emptier than the last, and every touch carries the ghost of a love that used to feel effortless.

When the pain starts outweighing the warmth, one of them finally says the words that have been lingering between them for too long—maybe we need time apart. But can love survive distance? Or is this the moment where they lose each other for good?

A heartbreaking story of love, loss, and the cruel realization that sometimes, even the deepest love isn’t enough to fix what’s already broken.

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

The apartment feels colder than usual.

It’s not the weather—no, the heater hums softly in the background, filling the space with artificial warmth. But nothing can fix the cold distance between you and Jake.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together tightly like he’s holding himself back from saying something he might regret. His jaw is clenched, his breathing uneven. He doesn’t look at you, but you can see the storm in his eyes, the way his fingers twitch restlessly against his jeans.

Another fight. Another night of raised voices, of sharp words that cut too deep, of silences that stretch too long.

And yet, here you are again. Two people who should love each other but are drowning in everything that love has turned into—misunderstandings, jealousy, exhaustion, the feeling of losing yourselves in something that was supposed to feel safe.

“Are we really going to do this again?” Jake’s voice finally breaks the silence, but it’s not the voice you fell in love with. It’s tired, rough, laced with something that sounds dangerously close to giving up.

You swallow hard, arms wrapped around yourself as if that will protect you from the hurt. “You think I want this?” you whisper, voice shaking. “You think I enjoy fighting with you every night?”

Jake lets out a bitter laugh, rubbing his hands over his face before finally looking at you. “Then why do we keep ending up here?” His voice cracks at the end, and that’s what shatters you the most.

Because you don’t have an answer.

Because you don’t know when love started feeling like a battlefield instead of a home.

You stare at each other, standing on opposite sides of a war you never meant to start. You see the hurt in his eyes, the frustration, the longing, the fear. You know he still loves you. You know you still love him. But sometimes, love isn’t enough to fix what’s already broken.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m losing you. And it scares me.”

Your chest tightens. Because you feel the same.

You take a shaky step forward, reaching for him hesitantly, but he flinches—just slightly, just enough to make your heart ache. Not because he doesn’t want your touch, but because he’s afraid of what happens after.

After another apology. After another promise to do better. After another cycle of hurting each other when neither of you mean to.

Tears burn at the back of your eyes as you force yourself to say the words you never thought you’d have to. “Maybe… maybe we need time apart.”

Jake freezes. His breath catches, his whole body going still. And then, he laughs again—except this time, it’s hollow, broken, the kind of laugh that sounds like it hurts.

“So that’s it?” His voice shakes. “After everything, you’re just—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head like he’s trying to hold himself together. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers.

You wipe at your eyes, your vision blurred. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

But maybe, somewhere along the way, you already have.

And as Jake watches you step back, watches you walk toward the door with hesitant steps, like you’re waiting for him to stop you—he wonders if love is supposed to feel like this.

Like wanting to hold on but not knowing how.

Like loving someone so much it hurts.

Like letting go, even when it’s the last thing you want to do.

The door closes softly behind you.

And Jake is left sitting in the cold.

Alone.

#enhypen #enhypen jake #jake fluff #jake angst #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enha fics #enha fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #sim jaeyun

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asilentguardian · 1 day ago

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Jason stands there for a while, leaning against the wall, watching Hal. It’s clear Hal is struggling to control the impulse to reach out and hold Bruce, his hands twitching and his body leaning towards the bed. But Jason was here first, and he’s not leaving.

Jason doesn’t break the silence, just watches. It wasn’t Hal. He had been possessed, totally and completely. But Bruce had held back. He could’ve laid Hal out, but he didn’t. And he’d paid the price. Broken ribs, a broken arm, sprained ankle. A ring of black and blue around his throat that Jason’s eyes have avoided since he first saw him, swallowed by monitors and the emptiness of the Watchtower med-bay.

It wasn’t Hal. But Jason had seen it, from afar. He’d watched Bruce go down and not get back up, because no one was fast enough to stop a Green Lantern out of his mind, especially when that Green Lantern was Hal Jordan. No one could get to him faster than he could have Bruce on the ground. If Clark had been two seconds later…

Jason eyes the fluorescent ring on Hal’s hand.

“Yellow light,” Hal says, his voice hoarse. Probably from the amount of yelling he had let loose, after he had been snapped out of it.

“What?” Jason asks.

“A Green Lantern’s greatest weakness. Yellow light. Preferably a Yellow Lantern. That would be the easiest way to– to stop me,” Hal explains, eyes still on Bruce, on the rise and fall of his chest. Hands still in his own lap.

Jason wonders what the rest of the Green Lanterns would think about Hal offering that information so freely. Probably they would be pissed. Jason doesn’t care.

“Bruce already knows that, doesn’t he?” Jason asks. Cause god knows Bruce would’ve figured it out a long time ago. He would have probably been thinking about all his little contingency plans all day, as soon as they knew metas weren’t immune.

“Yes,” Hal says, voice hoarse, “but he didn’t use it.” And Hal sounds angry. Angry that Bruce refused to fight back, to hurt him.

“He wouldn’t, not until the last possible moment,” Jason says, unable to stop his own anger from leaking into this voice. Because yes, he was pissed at Bruce. As fast as Hal Jordan is, Bruce is faster. Bruce could annihilate the whole League, if he had to. But instead, he’s here, unconscious in another hospital bed, narrowly avoiding death despite the 13 year old at home. Despite all the people who need him.

“Why the hell not,” Hal bites out. Jason lets out a dry laugh.

“I don’t know, Hal. Quite a mystery, that one,” Jason says. Hal’s jaw clenches at that. As if either had been subtle, as if no one had noticed the way they look at each other. Jason had certainly noticed. He’d noticed a lot, some things he’d like scrubbed from his memory, thank you very much.

But some things. Like Hal pulling his hand away from Bruce’s, cracking a joke anytime anyone tried to comment. Like the way he found a reason to leave the cave, whenever someone else entered.

“If it– If it happens again, would you– Before I–”

“Fuck you,” Jason snarls, “take you and your suicidal bullshit somewhere else. He needs you here, not in the middle of a pity party. He’d rather cut off a limb than see some he loves die, you asshole.”

Hal turns towards him at that, blinks at him for a moment.

“He doesn’t– we’re not–”

“Oh stick a cock in it and hold his fucking hand already, you sorry excuse for a human. If that’s any kind of news to you then you don’t know him at all. Your eyes must have been closed for the past however long, maybe there wasn’t enough blood in your brain. No, shut up, let me tell you something else, dickwad, you’re fucking it up royally, is what you’re doing. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but from where I’m standing it looks like you’re jerking him around, because god forbid Hal Jordan have a fucking emotion about anything, that would be too fucking much.”

At some point, Jason had pushed off the wall and ended up on the other side of Bruce’s bed. His chest is heaving as he stares down a wide-eyed Hal Jordan. Hal slowly reaches a hand out and places it over Bruce’s, fingers wrapping around it tentatively. Hal swallows, looks back down at Bruce.

“I might be really bad at this, it turns out,” Hal finally says, voice strained. Jason snorts.

“Yeah, no shit.”

They both sit there for a moment, watching Bruce’s chest rise and fall, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor.

“Hey Hal,” Jason says, finally breaking the silence that’s fallen over them. Hal looks over at him, meets his eyes.

“It wasn’t you,” Jason says. Hal swallows again, nods hesitantly.

“Yeah. Yeah I know,” he whispers, hand twitching, like he might pull away from Bruce. Jason holds his gaze for a few seconds, then looks back down at Bruce. Leslie said he’d be under until at least tomorrow morning. Jason figures that the amount of painkillers he’s on might be enough to kill someone who didn’t get beat up as a hobby.

“One more thing. If it ever is you, you’ll regret telling me the yellow light thing for the rest of your short, short life,” Jason says, low and steady. Hal just stares back at him.

“No, I wouldn't,” Hal says softly. Jason rolls his eyes. Gross.

Jason has to stare at Bruce for just a little longer, gather his strength before he walks out of the room. His whole body screams at him to stay, that’s there’s an active threat near– near his–

It wasn’t Hal. Jason knows this. But he saw it happen. The tight leash he has on his anger is fraying, and Jason suspects Hal wouldn’t fight back, not really. So he needs to go punch something else.

#batlantern #my stuff #my writing #my favorite jason trope is when hes like NO only I can be mad at Bruce #everyone else had stupid reasons for being mad at him but mine are perfectly logical #jason & bruce #protective jason todd #shippy stuff #batfam #halbruce

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annoyinglilbro · 3 days ago

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WE NEED MORE OF THAT LIL BRO AND OBLIVIOYS BIG BRO PLEEEAAASSSEEE

-🗡

They’re out at the mall, eating in the food court. Little brother who sits across from his big brothers girlfriend at the table, starring her down and she’s shifting uncomfortably in her seat trying to let it go. He stand his fork into a piece of meat, twisting and pulling it apart while glaring right at her.

And big bro is right next to her, completely unaware of it happening. She leans in and whispers something in his ear making little bros eyes narrow.

Whatever she says causes him to frown. He just shakes his head and places a reassuring kiss on her cheek.

“Your brother is scaring me…why is he looking at me like that?”

“Babe, please. He’s just anxious around new people okay? He’ll warm up to you.”

They’re at the arcade, she’s trying to have fun. Her boyfriends arm wrap around her and help her throw the ski ball, clapping and jumping around when it goes in the hole. They share a kiss. But she can still feel the eyes on her. He’s glaring, like he wants to hurt her. She excuses her self to the bathroom.

She takes a deep breath and washed her face. She’s being paranoid, obviously. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. She knew before that the brothers we’re close, her boyfriend had explained how his little brother for really attached after their dad went to jail. It’s a trauma response, don’t make it a big deal!

When she leaves the bathroom he’s there, waiting for her. She takes a gulp and approaches him, smiling and waving at him.

“Hey bud! Where’s your big brother?” She looks around, anxious to not be alone with him.

“Don’t worry about where my brother is. You shouldn’t ever think about my brother, he doesn’t need you. He has me. You’re just some slut. It won’t last.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, whore. Stay away from my brother.”

She takes another deep breath. Patience. She just had to be patient and understanding. This is fine.

“I know you’re worried I’m going to take your brother away, but I would never do that! I promise, okay? You don’t want to worry about me coming between you two. I love your brother, and I’m sure with time you and me will bond too. I can be like your big sister!”

Little brother laughs, barking her into a wall. She looks around but there’s none in the secluded little area leading to the rest rooms.

“I’m not worried about you coming between me and my brother. Nobody ever could. You’re disgusting. You have no idea what’s going on between me and him, and you wanna be my big sister?” He’s so close to her face, arms against the wall and pinning her body there. “Sure, sis. Let me show you what kind of little brother I am.” Be he presses his lips to her, catching her in a surprise kiss full of clashing teeth.

She lets out a squeal, pushing him away before slapping him across the face. He stays frozen, her hand print flowing in his cheek. He looks up at her, teary eyed but smiling when his brother round the corner.

“What was that?! I heard a scream I- oh my god! What happened to your face?” He’s grabbing his little brothers face, running his cold fingers over the hot skin.

His little brother sniffles, wrapping his arms tightly around his big brother.

“I..I was t-trying to ch-check on her! And and she said in we-ird and annoyyyinnggg!! She didn’t want me to c-come today! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you didn’t want me here, big bro! I’m so sorry!”

He’s full on sobbing, and the only evidence of what happened is his hand print on his cheek.

“Baby that’s not-“ she interrupted by the older brother glaring at her while he cradled his little brother against his chest.

“If you ever touch my brother again, I promise you I will hurt you. Don’t you ever lay a finger on my baby brother. We’re fucking over.”

“No! That’s not what-“

“I don’t want to hear it! There’s something wrong with you! I get being jealous, but of my brother? You’re crazy.” He holds his brother close, kissing the top of his head. “I always want you around, little dude. I’m so sorry I let this happen. Come on, the rest of the day will be just you and me, yeah? I think I got enough tickets today to get you a prize, that’ll cheer you up!”

She’s left standing there in shock.

What the actual fuck just happened?

#insane little brother anyone????#me if I let my crazy thoughts win tbh #t4t fauxcest #fauxc3st #fauxcest #t4t brocon #t4t brocest #ftm brocon #brocest #brocon #t4t sibcest #sibcest #sibcon #sibc3st

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nottivagos · 15 hours ago

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OKAY HEAR ME OUT on these two possible ideas:

1) all part of nerd!reader's plot to absolutely tease / overstim jock!carlos. i...uh.. haven't full thought out this one but imagine her planning it. she knows his schedule and so she decides to put on a show, just to see how he reacts. but she didn't realize how much she would enjoy it and she ends up forgetting about carlos. so when he walks in, imagine his reaction seeing her be a mess, thinking about him. Definitely an ego boost.

2) nerd!reader is fantasizing about carlos after she gets jealous. how it all happen was that carlos invited her to a party to, you know, let loose. it's not always just studying. she declines. but as time goes on, she feels like going. not because of carlos, just to live a little. but when she arrives, everyone is absolutely wasted. guys hitting on her, people trying to dance with her. then, she sees carlos with a gorgeous girl, and the girl is super close to him, obviously flirting and carlos is just soaking up the fun and attention, enjoying the party. so, nerd!reader goes back to her dorm and is frustrated, jealous... and ends up thinking about how much she wants his attention, which ends up with her touching herself. carlos, however, noticed when she arrived and left the party so he went after her. but when he sees her moaning his name and so lost in pleasure, he just stands there, with a smirk and his hand stroking himself.

- yapping bun anon 🐇

Welcome to Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Saturday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: BUN ANON STRIKES AGAIN!!! i picked the second one because, ah, it is perfection. jock!carlos, oh the man you are. it was also an excuse to listen to artemas for a while so i'm happy both ways :)

You shouldn’t have gone to that party.

Carlos had practically made you go. Apparently you were being too stuck-up and needed to ‘let go’. His claims were utter bullshit, you thought. You didn’t need to ‘let go’ like he practically did every night.

So, at first you stubbornly refused like you usually did. You had to study, which was commonly your excuse for everything Carlos tried to initiate, to which he replied with an annoyed sigh and an angry mutter, followed by him rubbing a hand over his face and leaving the dorm out of irritation.

A long period of silence followed. Carlos started going out more often with his douchebag friends to train or socialise, which you didn’t care less for though. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted just so he didn’t distract you from your studies.

But there was always that nagging voice playing in the back of your mind. The urge to go, not for Carlos, but for yourself. This opportunity was like gold dust to a student like yourself, something very rare to be offered by a jock themselves, and the desire to ‘live a little’ hung heavy in your mind and physically.

A little dorm party wouldn’t hurt, surely?

Oh, how you were wrong. For a start, everyone was already nearly blackout drunk. The eyes of hungry jocks burnt into your skin as you rubbed your bare upper arm nervously. You’d never ‘dressed up’ like this before, so the eyes made you gulp anxiously as you tried to merge into the background. Sweat clung to the humid atmosphere as pounding bass blared through your ears as you tried to navigate the crowds.

It didn’t help that you wanted to find Carlos. Despite coming to the party on your own accord, there was a lowly lit flame of yearning burning in your stomach. You wanted Carlos, even if it was one little drunken moment with him.

Barging through the dancing crowds, whilst fuelled with adrenaline to find Carlos was what drove you through the party. You had to fight grabbing hands trying to get you to dance along, but however, the few sips of some strongly made cocktail you snuck on the way through was just adding to your surge of confidence.

That all shattered when you saw him with her. He was casually resting his arm against the wall as she giggled, brushing her palm playfully against his chest. She was gorgeous than you, in many more ways, as she moved to press herself against Carlos’s front, a mischievous glint glowing in her eyes.

Her words fanned against his lips in ways you didn’t want to, the slurred murmurs made your body tense with jealousy, her nose now dangerously grazing Carlos’s as he just revelled in the drunken attention, smirking at her comments made you want to explode in fury.

The anger and bitter jealousy overwhelmed your senses as you stormed out of the party and made your way back to your shared dorm with Carlos. You couldn’t believe it. So much for literally having the audacity to ask you to come to the party just to have another woman flirt with him instead.

The desire for Carlos’s attention was overpowering as your body burnt in a fury of irritation. You’d gone out of your way to try and make an effort for Carlos to see, for that confidence to crumble and dissipate when his lips even dared to touch that bitch’s glossy, plump ones.

An agitated slam of your door was followed by you storming over to your bed, before you slumped into it, allowing the springs of your mattress to elevate you back slightly. Stirring in your anger at your situation, the desire to have Carlos’s all to yourself caused a pool of fire to begin to burn furiously in your belly.

Your hands absentmindedly followed, fingertips grazing the soft flesh underneath your shirt ever so subtly. The unmonitored movements and motions burnt your skin, the overwhelming thought of Carlos’s fingers actually being the ones trailing down your smooth stomach instead of your own to your clothed cunt made your body dangerously hungry for more.

The touches were becoming more torturous as your fantasies mixed with the growing pleasure coiling inside of you ever so tighter and intenser. They travelled down lower, coming to toy with the hem of your skirt, pushing it up your thighs, before ghosting over the wet spot on your clothed pussy.

Gasping at the sensation, your fingertips trailed back upwards to the top of your panties, hooking at the elastic before you wiggled them down your bare legs to your ankles awkwardly. They then gradually made their way back up to your now bare pussy sensually, feeling the initial wetness coating your desperate folds.

Imagining Carlos’s fingers spreading your wetness across your yearning folds was intoxicating as you did it. Biting your lip, you teased your fingertips at the opening of your hole, feeling it hungrily try to grab at them as you pulled out.

“Carlos,” your breathy voice called out as you dipped two fingers into your weeping pussy. The feeling was electric as you started to slowly pump them in and out of you, feeling your walls desperately try to suck you in as you did so.

A pathetic whine followed as your cheeks burnt a hot crimson, biting your bottom lip hard as you began to imagine Carlos’s fingers stretching out your hole so easily, and the way his thick accent would drawl and purr as you moaned embarrassingly at the size difference and the way he murmured swift nothings into your ear ever so smoothly.

If anything, the thoughts made you even crazier for him. You were drunk on your fantasies as your fingers found a relentless rhythm, which made you allow your now more passionate moans to ring around your dorm. You wanted Carlos— no, you needed him to touch you.

Fuck that bitch he was talking to at the party, you craved for him to be your own. The way his lips would feel on your skin, the way the bites would be so intoxicating, the way you’d rake your fingertips through his beautiful brown hair as you both made out so passionately, the way his cock would feel inside of you for the first time, to the way your name would fall from his lips like a prayer were enough to get you entranced in your vivid dreams.

“Carlos, please,” you begged pathetically as your eyes fully closed shut, thrusting your fingers deeper into your slick cunt. “Please, Carlos, fuck me,” your begged moans became increasingly louder as your breath had began to hitch, the coil inside the bottom of your belly tightening with every inch added as you fucked yourself.

Whilst you were too caught up in your own erotica, you didn’t even suspect Carlos’s looming presence in the room. In fact, you didn’t even know that he’d gone after you when he’d seen you at the party leaving in rage, guilty for hurting your feelings with the drunk little flirt session he was having with that girl.

What he wasn’t expecting to see was you panting his name ever so desperately loud as frantic fingers pounded into your tight cunt. His brown doe eyes darkened with lust as you were too engrossed in the overwhelming pleasure of your ongoing fantasy and the crazy feeling that your fingers felt inside of you as they curled to find the spot that made you squeal.

“Carlos, fuck— You feel so good—” you staggered a strangled moan as your toes started to curl when your fingers had finally found the spot that made you see stars.

Carlos knew it was wrong to ogle at you pleasuring yourself at the thought of him but your moans and whines of his name were like a siren’s song to his ears, drawing him in to your lust.

His cock was already painfully hard when his hands moved ever so fast to the zipper of his jeans. Carlos then pushed his jeans down to his ankles with desperation, his boxers following immediately afterwards as he let his erection spring free against his clothed torso.

At this point, you were dripping onto the bed sheets below you, hips jerking slightly upwards to create more stimulation and friction. Your thumb found your clit, rubbing against the sensitive ball of nerves also, whilst your eyes squeezed shut. You could sense your inevitable climax, as your cheeks burnt all whilst your chest rose erratically with each breath and pant you took.

Carlos groaned lowly in response to the sight he was witnessing, as he started to spread the pre-cum leaking from his angry, red tip with his thumb. He smirked as you let out another few breathy gasps, before he began to pump his shaft almost immediately after.

Your fingers began to pound even more erratically as you felt your high coming. A pierced moan escaped your lips as you screamed, “Carlos!” as the high you desperately craved finally hit you like a wave.

Your body spasmed slightly with pleasure as your cunt clenched around your fingers, soaking them with your dripping essence rushed out of your pussy like a waterfall. The smirk on Carlos’s face grew as you rode out your high. He continued to stroke himself, half-lidded eyes glued to your flushed state as your eyes slowly fluttered open after you removed your wet fingers from your slick hole.

Mind hazy, you blinked up at the ceiling for a brief moment. Your chest heaved as you tried to gain some kind of composure, upon looking down your eyes widened at Carlos lurking in the walkway, just naturally jerking himself off.

“Carlos?!” you squeaked out in embarrassment. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you asked whilst frantically looking for the sheets to cover yourself up with.

“I think I should be the one asking you that question,” he gritted out, continuing to wank off himself as you stared at him with wide eyes. “Do you know how fucking worked up I am right now?” he asked, his words had a bite to them, “me estás matando aquí, cariño,” he muttered, shaking his head as his hardened cock twitched angrily.

“Carlos,” you began to explain, “I didn’t mean to I—”

“Shut up,” he hissed, pumping ever so furiously before he also rode out his release with a groan, the cum spilling from his penis that coated his fingers with ropes of white.

He then grabbed a tissue from the tissue box on the desk before cleaning his release off of his hand. After, he looked at you, who was looking embarrassed and bashful from what you’d done, before he walked over to your bed, crawling on top of you as you stayed underneath the covers.

“Who knew the nerd had a secret lust for me, huh?” He whispered ever so thickly against your lips, the words causing his hot breath to fan across them. “Next time you do this,” he mumbled, nose coming to graze against your own, “I’m going to be the one inside of you making you scream out my name. Got that?”

like jock!carlos? fancy sending me an ask in my inbox so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

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