#decided to post since i know i won’t clean this up
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quarterlifekitty · 16 hours ago
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Desperate times
A sequel to this post and poll. Started feeling a little jigsaw-y…. Decided that I wanted to continue this post— what would it be like if their methods didn’t work? If they had to up the ante?
The top two winners of the poll won’t have to find out, because they’re getting you back! The rest? Well…
cw: dubcon/noncon, stalking, unhealthy relationships, somno, daddy kink stuff, intox, violence, baby trapping, and more stuff I don’t really know how to describe lol
❌Gaz is making a spectacle. Formulating the ultimate romantic gesture— a in a public place. He’s used your family and friends to lure you there on their invitation. Can’t you see how all of them want you to take him back? Look at him, on his knee in the middle of the botanical garden, promising to be better for you if you’ll just give him another chance. They’re all waiting on your response. Come on, luv, just give them what they want.
❌Soap is moving onto step 2, and that’s getting you drunk. Not so hard when you and your friends go to an upscale bar. He conveniently runs quite late meeting the 141 there, so to you and your friends, there’s just a handsome group of strangers sending some pretty girls free drinks. And everyone knows the girly drinks have the highest percentages. The rest of the gang will pick off your friends (payment for doing him this favor) and he’ll be ready to swoop in and take you home. Aren’t you lucky he was there? Just let him get you into bed. Ach, he really shouldn’t leave you alone in this state… best stay the night. A bit of advice? Don’t squirm when he gets to work— reminding you of the good times.
❌Ghost keeps it going strong with the scary voicemails. And they keep getting worse. The grunting, and threats, the desperation coating his voice. Not nice to keep your man waiting, birdie. They’re followed by photos. Printed out physically, slipped in your mail slot or under your door, bare. No envelope, no address or signature. All dated with black sharpie, all recent. You looking both ways, getting ready to cross the street. Changing out of your work clothes when you get home. His gloved thumb gently brushing your lip while you’re sleeping. His cum on your toothbrush. That one is dated as two weeks old. Just let him back into your life, birdie.
⭕️ Price feels his heart sing when he sees your name on the caller id. He gives the perfect, respectful response. It’s good to hear from you. Is everything alright? When he agrees to meet up with you, he doesn’t let it show how eagerly he’s been waiting for the chance. Tells you that you look good. Life must’ve been treating you well since he last saw you. He seems so genuinely pleased for you… He almost lets his calculated restraint slip when you say you’d like to give things another go. Asks if you’re sure. If he were being honest, in his eyes, things never ended. This was just a rough patch. But he’s glad you’ve come around to seeing it his way. He’ll have you moved back in by the end of the month, swollen with his kid by the end of the next. It’ll weigh you down, make it easier for him to slip the ring on.
⭕️ Honest to god, König sees the halo glow behind your crown when you meet up with him, and agree to a second chance. He promises that he’ll be better— you won’t want for anything, he’ll be so good for you. He’s acting like you’ve agreed to marry him. Maybe because in his mind, you have. That’s inevitable, seeing as he’s never going to lose you again.
❌ Nikolai starts getting a lot less… clean with your potential paramours. Gone are the bribes, the simple threats and ghosting— in are the bloody heaps of men that are just alive enough to twitch. This could all stop. Just be his good girl again, come back to your ivory tower. Papochka won’t be upset, he’ll just be glad to have you home. His patience for you is endless, but for the rest of the world? Well, do you really want to find out?
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magicicephoenix · 1 year ago
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i know the joke is usually that they die but consider: it literally shocked him out of toon form
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itostea · 1 year ago
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care for me? (gojo x wife! reader)
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——————————————————————————
in which you’re forced to share a bed with the husband you’re convinced hates you
warnings: there’s only one bed!!!! suggestive bc it’s gojo, they’re both a bit confused, pic from lving yamada kun at lv999
a/n: part of the gojo’s wife series (i recc you read the fic before this one to understand some things), also i’m posting this stuff on my phone now since i’m on vacay …meaning format will be extra ugly💀💀
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“What exactly did you say to make the principal Gakuganji agree to us on a mission together?”
You think Gojo or rather your husband, doesn’t really understand how fast he actually walks. With the way he towers over every civilian in Japan and how much longer his strides are, you’re almost certain that his pacing is far from normal. It gets to the point where you’re jogging to keep up with him, a huff escaping your lips in exasperation.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head over that, ‘kay?” He gives you a lazy smile and with the blindfold wrapped around his head, you can’t exactly see the way he glances over at you–gradually shortening his steps for you to catch up.
You choose to ignore his comment about “your pretty little head” and instead sigh. “Sator–I mean ‘Toru,” you say carefully, gauging the way he gives a satisfied smile at your correction. After the moment you both had in the kitchen at a dangerously late hour, he insisted you call him a nickname.
He gave some recommendations: my hubby, my king, the strongest and most handsome husband. Naturally, you refused to call him those nicknames in public and even denied him the joy in private. So to avoid his needless whining, you compromised and decided on “‘Toru.” The way he brightened up that day made you feel giddy all over but you brushed it off with the fact that you were just glad he was actually talking to you.
“You didn’t do anything bad right?” You inquire, shooting him a glare.
“I think what I did was reasonable!” He chirps, reaching in a bag of candy to plop some in his mouth—the same bag he insisted on getting before you both went on the mission. You can’t help but feel a bit meek when his fingers inch towards your mouth and he gives a toothy grin, beckoning for you to open. You breathe out an annoyed huff, slightly parting your lips to let the sugary treat on your tongue.
He smiles, leaning forward to let his fingers linger in the plush of your lips. “Good girl.”
The way your breath hitches is visceral and you feel the pricks of embarrassment probe at your skin. Your eyes avert from his and you quicken your steps, trying your best to hide the fact that Gojo Satoru was having an effect on you. You miss the way his smile widens at your reaction.
You still avoid his gaze when he catches up. “You know I’m the one who cleans up after your mess whenever you piss the higher-ups right? It’s me who gets the scolding!”
���Scolding? Would you believe me if I told you stuff like that won’t happen again?”
You pause, analyzing how he flashed a coy grin. Immediately, your eyes narrow. “Gojo Satoru.”
“It’s ‘Toru to you,” he voices, chuckling at how your frown deepened. “Relax. I didn’t do anything that bad. Just did enough for them to stop annoying my wife.”
You choose not to linger on how easily the words “my wife” falls out of your lips but it’s hard when he went so far just for your wellbeing. Your mind drifts to his lips pressed against your forehead, instantly regretting it as you feel your neck growing warm. You shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts from multiplying, earning a curious look from Gojo.
Before he can ask why you went quiet, you stop in your tracks, looking at him with an expression so cute he nearly feels himself fall over. You click your tongue. “‘Toru. You annoy me more than them.”
He whistles, looking at the sight of the abandoned hospital–the location where the S-grade assigned to the both of you curse lies hidden. “Harsh.”
-
The lady in the front trembles as she inputs the data for the two of you. Her eyes scan Gojo’s wide grin and your blank expression that seems even more menacing with the red splatters on your clothes. You blink, tilting your head. “It’s not my blood,” you try to reassure her but that only seems to worsen her fear.
“R-Right!” She squeaks. “One room for Mr. Gojo, correct?”
Gojo nods with a hum, taking the keycard from the lady’s trembling hands. He gestures for you to follow him, walking with so much bravado that any onlooker doesn’t even question the bloodied state of your uniform. “You should’ve been more careful,” he says. “You made a mess.”
“Not everyone has infinity you know?” You mumble, following him into the hotel suite. Your eyes scan the seemingly fancy interior and furniture, not paying much attention until your eyes lock onto an unmistakable sight.
“‘Toru. Why is there only one bed?”
His disinterested hum only serves to make you grow more baffled. He shrugs off his jacket, cracking his neck with a hum. “That’s odd. I could’ve sworn I said two beds. The lady must’ve messed up seeing you all bloodied up. Must’ve scared her real bad huh?”
You’re almost certain that this predicament has brought you more stress than any mission you’ve been sent. And you’re amazed–no bewildered, that Gojo’s not even batting an eye at this.
“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy now that you’re sharing a bed with your husband.”
“We’ve never done that before!” You squeak out, dropping your bags on the floor.
That was partially his fault, he thinks. Even so, he keeps his mouth shut. “You have any extra clothes you can wear?”
Even in your frenzied state, you still process the question, blinking in recognition. “No…”
He shrugs. “Then you can wear my shirt,” he points to the white button-up. “Might be gross but it’s better than nothing right? Besides that makes us even now. I got to see you shirtless when—”
“‘Toru!”
He grins an easy-going smile. “Ya know if you’re not comfortable with sleeping on the same bed as me, I can always sleep on the couc–”
“No!” You say a bit too quickly, straightening yourself out when he raises a curious brow. “No I mean like, I don’t mind that much. Besides, I don’t want you to hurt your back on the couch…”
“That’s the only reason?” He smiles and it’s not hard to realize he’s teasing you.
You nod, resolute despite your sweating palms. “Yes.”
“Then…” he shrugs. “You can take a shower first. I’ll leave the shirt near the door. Promise I won’t look. Unless you want me to.”
You can only give another nod, shooting a glare at his shit-eating grin. You take off to the showers, clasping a hand over your mouth as you silently scream in embarrassment. The warm water makes your skin feel hotter to touch and you only try your hardest not to dwell on the details. It’s just a night on the same bed together. Nothing more, nothing less.
You wish you could have kept that confidence huddled in your blankets–watching your snow-haired husband crawl into bed. You try not to linger on his bare torso for too long to be considered healthy and have to physically restrain yourself from jumping when his hand grazes your thigh.
He’s not wearing his blindfold or shades, meaning you can really see how his eyes watch your every move in interest. He leans closer, making you bite a squeak down. “You’re hogging the blankets.”
“Huh? Oh yeah,” you laugh awkwardly, throwing the fabric off your body for him. Gojo Satoru doesn’t have a favorite art piece but you in his shirt might just take the spot. He licks his lips, seeing how you unbuttoned a few buttons near the collar for more room–how you avoided his gaze. Cute, he thinks.
He raises a brow when you lay on your side, covering yourself in the blankets until you’re a heap of fabric. His lips twitches into a smile when he sees the way you curl up into yourself. Then again, he chooses not to mention it when he feels himself growing drowsy.
You’re not sure how much time passes but you can hear Gojo’s gentle breathing fill the room. You bring a hand to your legs, trying to ease away the goosebumps forming on your skin. At first, you assumed they were from nerves but now, you’re almost certain it’s because the hotel’s blasting the AC. And oddly enough, Gojo seems completely unaffected, even able to sleep peacefully.
You sigh, turning to face him. You’ve always known your husband was an attractive man but it’s not fair for him to look so good even while sleeping. His lashes are long and you find yourself staring a bit too long at his lips. Again, your mind drift to the moment when he pressed those same lips to your forehead and instead of being filled with embarrassment, you’re filled with a feeling that squeezes at your heart.
Subconsciously, you’re reaching for his face, grazing a finger down his cheekbones to the corner of his lips. His skin is smooth against your touch and you’re almost jealous that his skin was perfect too. You continue to map your way to his jawline, mesmerized at the sight.
“Enjoying the view?” He mumbles, his eyes closed though a smile crosses his face. You’re about to retrace your hand away from his face but he’s quick to clasp one around your wrist. You nearly squeak when he leans closer to your palm, his eyes finally opening to peer into yours. “Eyeing me when I’m asleep? I didn’t know you were such a per—“
“I’m not!” You yelp, snatching your wrist away from you him with a flushed face.
He hums, propping himself on his elbow to watch you. “Hm? Now you getting all embarrassed on me after you felt me up?”
“I did not feel you up.”
He merely shrugs with a grin. “It’s all good. I think you’re pretty cute too.”
You didn’t know it was possible to be this flustered until you shared a bed with Gojo. “I only touched you because I was cold!”
That wasn’t entirely a lie either. When you felt Gojo’s face, his skin was warm under your touch and you wondered if the rest of him was like that. Naturally, you refrained from thinking even further or else you really wouldn’t sleep a wink.
To your surprise, you feel see him pat the spot besides him. Your lips fall apart as you continue to stare. He only shrugs with a lazy smirk. “What? A husband has to make sure his wife’s comfortable right?”
It’s hard to say no when you feel the cool air of the AC bite into your skin—your limbs trembling. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, sighing as you scootched closer to him. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your frame closer until you’re against his torso.
You try not to dwell on the fact that you can feel how his muscles move against your shirt—or rather his shirt; how he nuzzled his face in your neck, breathing in your scent that this scene felt so naturally domestic.
You squirm in his embrace, shifting your hips around to find a more comfortable position. His arms immediately squeeze you tighter, making you squeak. “Stay still,” he says lowly against your ear.
“You’re holding me too tight,” you whine, wiggling your hips again. This time, his hand squeezes your hip.
“Yeah? Well if you don’t stop squirming, I’ll have another problem to deal with.”
“What—“ You say before the realization hits you and you’re left spluttering like an idiot. Your head turns to face him and you immediately regret it.
His blues bore into yours and you see how his lips twitch as if trying to hold back a laugh. “I—“ You start, turning away from him with your stomach doing flips. “Okay,” you squeak, clenching your eyes shut at your response.
He only grunts in response, spooning you with his chin atop of your head. Minutes pass and you relax in his arms. “‘Toru?”
“Hm?”
“Why are you being so nice to me right now? I thought you hated me?”
“What?” For the first time, he sounds awake. He leans up so you can see his hues peering down at you. You watch bemused as a tortured expression crosses his face for a second. “(Name), I don’t hate you. I never hated you.”
Your bewilderment grows. “But you…you never talked to me.”
He smooths a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I don’t have some regrets about that.”
It’s the same like last time, when the two of you were in the kitchen. He’s looking at you so tenderly that you can’t bring yourself to look away. “I care for you,” he continues, trying to pick his words thoughtfully. “Much more than I want to.”
He still peers down at you, so close that you almost think he’s about to lean in for a kiss. You observe him with a wide-eyed look, only letting out a little gasp when you feel his lips press against your forehead again—the feeling familiar to you. Gojo resumes his cuddling shortly after, squeezing your hip once more. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
You widen your eyes, remaining silent. You’re at a list of words, momentarily left speechless. Even so, you reach down to press a hand over his on your hip, squeezing it lightly. “I know.”
Gojo thinks he sleeps the best when you’re besides him. You’re soft against him, fitting perfectly in between his arms. He thinks, there’s no way he was going to let this moment pass—and he was a man who kept true to his wishes. The next time he was going to sleep in his house, he was going to do it with you by his side.
BONUS:
“‘Toru…”
“What is it again?” He grumbles, though there’s no bite in his tone.
“Why couldn’t we just teleport home instead of going to a hotel?”
A brief silence follows.
“Go to sleep.”
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ipseitydelrey · 7 months ago
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cherry ☆ s. reid
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ship spencer reid x afab!reader
content smut, period sex (kinda?), eating out (f!receiving), while on your period, it’s not that gross i swear, he’s a munch ur honour 🙇
word count 1.7k
summary usually during your period, you get really hot and bothered for no particular reason other than hormones. spencer offers to help out with your problem.
a/n im posting this directly after seeing a show at the moulin rouge, it’s currently 2am; this was inspired by my experience at the eras tour in stockholm
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Periods are hell for you. Not just because of the cramps, or the blood, but because you just get so horny.
Now, to others it’s completely normal to masturbate while their periods are happening, either with a fingers or with a toy. Period sex is also a thing you’ve heard of, even from your friends who have often recommended the activity.
But to you, doing anything remotely like that, either by yourself or with anyone else, is a no. Mostly because of the messiness and how troublesome it would be to clean it up. So instead of getting relief by just touching youself, you always decide to wait until your period is finished to start doing sexual activities again. Besides, you only just have to go a few days without stimulation.
But this week is hard. You have the urge to just rip your underwear off and play with your clit until your wrist starts to ache all the time. It’s pure agony for you, and sometimes you find youself clenching your thighs together, or pushing your heel against your clothed pussy to get some sort of relief.
In the middle of your monthly period, one day is especially hard. You’re laying on the couch with a heating pad on your abdomen, your hair hidden in your drawstring hood, and your legs on your boyfriend Spencer’s thighs while he reads a book at 20,000 words per minute. He sometimes glances up at you from his novel whenever you squirm a bit, though you’re not sure if he thinks you’re just in pain from your cramps or if he’s able to read through you.
Besides, you know for a fact that your boyfriend won’t help you get off while you’re on your period. Spencer’s known to have a thing with germs, so there’s no way that he’ll touch your pussy, especially if it’s bleeding.
The next time you shift slightly and whine softly, Spencer closes his book and sets it down on the coffee table. “Are you okay, honey?”
“‘M okay,” you respond, your voice muffled by your pillow being cuddled in your arms. You unintentionally clench your thighs together at his caring voice which unfortunately, Spencer notices.
“You sure?” He gently massages your calf, which only adds fuel to the fire. You hate that he’s a profiler now. “Just cramps?”
“Mmph…” You nods your head a bit as you hide your face in the pillow, trying to hide your soft blush.
“Maybe you’re aroused?” He asks suddenly. One of his hands moves up your leg to squeeze your thigh. Profilers.
Again, you nod your head, defeated since he can so clearly see how horny you are. “Mm-hmm.”
“I see,” he mutters under his breath, but you can hear him. Disproving your previous judgements about him, he shifts his position so that he’s directly facing you, leaving one of your legs to hang off the couch and allowing him to be between your legs.
You pull the pillow down to your chest, wanting to see what he’s trying to achieve. “What’re you doing?” you ask, your eyebrow cocked.
“Can I help you?” Spencer suggests, his hands planted on your upper thighs, close to your core.
“With what?”
“You’re aroused,” he points out again. “And you’re in pain. Studies have shown that orgasms can help subside period cramps.”
Oh, that’s probably why your friends keep recommending period sex. But you feel too tired for full-on penetration right now. Yet again, he could maybe help you in another way. “Are you sure? It’s gonna be messy, and I know you don’t like germs, and I just feel gross.” You argue self-deprecatingly.
“Well I can put a towel down.” He gets up from his position between your legs and goes off to the bathroom. From the couch, you can hear him opening cupboards before he comes back with a black towel in hand. He continues with what he was saying. “And I want to help you. It’s not gross, it’s natural. I want to make you feel good. Here, lift up your hips.”
He puts a hand on your hip to guide you as you lift your bottom half up just enough for him to place a towel down and make sure it’s flat before he guides you back down. The towel is only just there if you say yes though, which he eagerly awaits before he does anything else to you.
You sigh, and figure that this might be worth a shot. You drop the pillow to the ground in front of the couch, quickly followed by the heating pad that was on your stomach. “Okay, fine,” you say as enthusiastically as you can which, with your cramps and your tiredness, isn’t really that enthusiastic.
Still, Spencer mouths a silent “thank you” before he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants. You lift your hips up once more to make it easier when he tugs them down and off, leaving you in your underwear. Following the same pattern, he once again pulls your period panties off, and you let your hips settle onto the towel-covered couch.
His hands find their way between your thighs and he spreads them just enough for him to have access to your core, wet from your arousal and your blood. The five seconds he spends just staring at your vulnerable pussy, dripping blood onto the towel, are the most nerve-wracking five seconds of your life. You halfway convince yourself that he’s going to back out and leave you like this, horny and bloody with your pants off.
And yet, he buries his head between your legs and starts by gently kissing your heat, then licking a long stripe from the base of your slit all the way up to your sensitive clit, causing an equally long moan to erupt from the depths of your throat.
“You’re so beautiful, honey,” he says before he dives back in again, drawing circles around your bundle of nerves with his tongue before he traps it between his lips and suckles.
You kick your legs up a bit when he focuses on your clit, the stimulation to your sensitive bud ripping sudden moans from your lips. Your hands find their way to the top of his head and you grasp on to his hair tight.
He looks up at you through his lashes, still working his lips around your clit before he moves his tongue down to your slit, licking a bit before thrusting it into your wet cunt. His thumb replaces where his tongue was before, rubbing small tight circles around the bud.
You can’t believe how good he’s making you feel right now, and you can feel your pleasurable knot in your stomach tightening because of his undeserved-but-needed efforts. You don’t know if he’s doing this for you just to be helpful — considering his complicated personal relationship with germs and the like — or if he just really enjoys eating your pussy this much. With each second that passes by having Spencer lapping at your cunt like a man starved, you start to think that it’s the latter thought.
And he can tell you like it too, with the way you moan and arch your back and even when you start to grind your clit against your nose while his tongue is deep in your pussy. Even if you’re wearing a baggy hoodie and were wearing sweatpants, he still manages to make you feel incredibly sexy. Or “sexy” is maybe not the right word — loved; you feel loved in this moment.
He appears to feel the same as well, with the way he moans in content seeing you like this and feeling your fingers nestled in his hair and tugging lightly. With every small pull, a tiny sound emits from his throat and it feels oh so pleasurable on your pussy.
Sensing your impending orgasm, he takes his tongue, wet by your slick and blood, out of your weeping hole and quickly replaces the muscle with his index finger. He slowly pushes the digit in, feeling your walls pulsate around him as he pushes and pulls it in and out in a steady rhythm. A minute later, he adds a second and starts to curl his fingers against that gooey button inside your cunt once he’s knuckle-deep into your warmth.
It’s so much for you; almost too much. Your jaw hangs open in a silent moan and you almost can’t believe it when you start to grind your hips against his thrusting fingers, fucking yourself with his index and middle as it continuously and without fail hits the spongy button everytime.
Your orgasm hits you almost unexpectedly, a wave of pleasure overflows you as your eyes flutter shut and your back arches just a bit more. Your chest heaves while you gasp for air; this is just what you needed during your period. Seeing you’re damn near overwhelmed, Spencer works you through your orgasm, your arousal forming a creamy circle around his still-working fingers.
“There we go, that’s it, you’re doing so well” are among the small praises he breathes onto your pussy while you slowly but surely come down from the high. At the same speed, his fingers slow down until they become stationery, before he pulls them out with a wet squelch, causing you to whimper softly. When your eyes meet next, he can see how glossy your eyes are with satisfcation pulling at the corners of your lips.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You half-lie with a small laugh trailing behind your words. Though to be fair, you definitely needed it.
He pulls himself up to be eye level with you while you’re still laying there on your back catching your breath. You can already see a mixture of your arousal and your blood dribbling down his chin, though he doesn’t seem to mind all that much. “No, but I wanted to.” He says with a dopey smile, still pussy drunk.
Though the lower half of his face is still covered by your juices, he tries to lean in and kiss you, only to be stopped by your hands on his shoulders and you turn your head to the side with an amused smile. “Ew! I don’t wanna taste my blood!”
Spencer scoffed playfully at your reaction. “I just ate you out and I don’t even get a kiss?”
The way he pleads just makes you melt a little and you decide to give in just a bit by gently kissing his cheek. You can feel his cheeks heat up against your lips. Despite his previous openness, he gets flustered and smiles sheepishly, sighing a little. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” you joke, your mouth still planted on his cheek.
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i’ve been plane-hopping around europe for over a month so i haven’t had a lot of access to wifi + i nearly failed one of my courses bc my professor was horrible at giving feedback, hopefully this explains my absence and i hope u enjoyed this !! (i posted this in a flurry btw, lmk if there are any errors whatsoever 🫶)
taglist @queermaxwooo @theoraekenslover join the taglist!
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palajae · 5 months ago
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bfb. (my best friend’s brother is the one for me!)
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PAIRING... best friend’s brother!riki x reader | GENRE... dancer! au, romance, humor, fluff, a flirty riki and down bad reader | WC... 2.1k | inspired by best friend’s brother by victorious (if you couldn’t tell already lmao)
wrote this at 2am in celebration of 1000 posts wtf 
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the first nishimura you met and befriended was actually sola. the first day you joined lead entertainment all those years ago, the bright and bubbly girl was the one who greeted you and showed you around. 
“oh, and this is my sister konon!” 
your eyes widen at the sight of the sweaty, yet still gorgeous girl coming out of the practice room. by the looks of it, you assumed she had just finished leading a class. 
immediately, the resemblance hit you. the nishimura girls were both beautiful and talented. 
konon tilts her head at you, guzzling down water. 
“so you’re the newbie.” 
you nod, “nice to meet you. i watched a bit of your class and you were incredible.”
“could say the same here.” when your eyes widen, a bit taken aback, she explains herself. 
“saw your first class earlier today. not bad, for a beginner. you could work on your facials, though.”
you raise an eyebrow, “is that just constructive criticism or an offer to teach me?” 
konon shrugs as sola giggles, “whatever you want it to be.” you both then share a smile. you instantly knew you two were going to get along well. 
for the next couple of weeks, you spent a lot of time with konon. not just dancing, but also bonding to the point you considered her your best friend. she taught you a lot more about the performance aspect of dancing, which you greatly appreciated. honestly, konon was mesmerizing both on and off the stage. 
“wanna sleepover?” konon asks after a particularly long session. “my parents probably won’t be back since they have to close up the studio, so you can come over to my place.” 
“wait a second, your parents own the company?!”
“oh y/n,” konon shakes her head sympathetically, “there’s a lot you don’t know.” 
and right she was. you had absolutely no idea that the nishimura girls had, in fact, another sibling. 
a brother. 
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freshly showered, you gasp in awe while admiring the nishimura residence. it was clean with those sleek modern vibes, and not to mention filled with countless dancing awards that you assumed came from the girls. 
as konon leads you up the stairs, she tells you to wait outside her door. “it’s a bit messy…” 
you roll your eyes, telling her that you don’t mind, but she protests nonetheless. while waiting, you explore the hall. most of the room doors were closed, but a faint sound coming from one of the rooms catches your attention. 
it sounded like, someone yelling? they had a remarkably deep voice, like they were a guy-
“y/n!” konon hisses and you jump, turning around. “what are you doing? get in here!”
finally seeing her room distracts you, as you momentarily forget about the noise coming from down the hall. 
you had stayed up rather (very) late with konon, yapping the night away. not expecting to stay over, you didn’t bring anything. at some point, you begin to shiver. “it’s kinda cold,” you whine. 
in a sleepy daze, konon goes out of the room and retunes with a random hoodie.  
she throws it at your face, in which you grunt a thanks. 
“why is it so freaking huge,” you yawn while shoving it over your head. she mutters something random while plopping onto the bed, leaving the both of you to pass out contentedly. 
the next morning, you groan as you wake up. konon was still snoring away, so you decided to quietly go downstairs and grab a glass of water. 
the whole house still seemed quiet, so you assumed her parents and sister were still sleeping as well. they knew you stayed the night, right? 
carefully grabbing a glass, you pour yourself some water and gulp it down with a satisfied sigh. turning around, you’re about to head back up when you almost bump into a body. 
your eyes fly open in surprise as your water slightly spills over you and… him?
the first thought in your head is that—
crap, this guy is ridiculously handsome. and tall. 
you gape, pointing a finger at the stranger although you know it’s rude. 
“who are you?”
he squints back, “what are you doing in my house?” 
the situation you were currently in was so unexpected that you remain speechless for a moment. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,“ you splutter. 
he crosses his arms, studying you from head to toe before he smirks. you swallow uncomfortably, feeling a little too warm. 
“konon invited me over!” you manage to spit out, mirroring his actions by crossing your arms too. 
“sure. i guess that means you’re allowed to steal other people’s clothes as well?” 
you tilt your head in confusion. “what do you mean?”
he only chuckles, making you feel even more flustered. “answer my question!”
he takes a step closer and you force yourself to stand your ground and not take one back. “which one?” 
his voice is so deep that you shiver. then it hits you—he must’ve been the one you heard yesterday night down the hall! 
“b-both,” you mumble while looking away. just as he opens his mouth, about to answer, you hear konon’s voice sleepily calling out your name. 
“you’re up already?” she yawns as she pads down the stairs. you furrow your eyebrows, glancing from the strangely familiar tall stranger to konon, then back to him, and finally back to her. 
your mouth drops agape. 
“don’t tell me-!” 
“oh, you didn’t know riki was my brother?”
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you want to die of embarrassment. not only were you clueless about the fact that a nishimura riki did indeed exist, you were really done dirty by konon. 
how were you supposed to know that the hoodie you ‘borrowed’ actually belonged to aforementioned person? 
how did you not even know konon and sola had a brother? neither sister had ever brought him up before and you had never seen him around the company because oh, you would have remembered a face like that. 
your face burned, mortified, as you brought the washed hoodie back to konon. 
“could you return this to your…brother?”
“shouldn’t you do it yourself, considering you were the one who wore it?” she snickers as you complain endlessly.
“you gave it to me, so i thought it was yours!” you groan while rubbing a hand over your face in frustration. 
“don’t worry about it. riki is chill, especially since you guys are around the same age.” 
great. how were you going to face her unfortunately, really stupidly super cute brother?  
she tells you what room he’s practicing in, and you despise how your heart is pounding as you make your way over. 
since you hear music still playing, you decide to wait patiently outside for him to finish. you figure there was probably no harm in peeking through the windows while you waited. 
you were wrong. your mouth literally dries up at the sight in front of your eyes. 
life was unfair. not only was riki blessed with good looks, he was also an incredible dancer? obviously, you should’ve expected no less from the nishimuras. 
when the music stops, you take a deep breath and knock. to your surprise, the door almost immediately opens. 
the sight of a sweaty and breathless riki is almost too much for you to handle. 
“hi,” you say meekly. internally, you face palm. just being around him caused your brain to shut down.
“hey. enjoy the show?”
“what?” your head snaps up, flustered. 
riki laughs before opening the door and letting you in. “i was just joking.”
“oh… well, i wanted to give this back to you.”
he looks down at the bag held out to him. 
“it’s washed,” you add hastily, “thanks for letting me wear your hoodie without permission, i guess.”
“no problem. it looked better on you than me, anyway.”
oh no. your heart definitely skipped a beat. 
seeing your reaction, riki reaches over to ruffle your hair. 
“you’re cute.”
you? cute? riki? his smile? adorable? 
“y/n? are you alright? why did you come here?”
“huh? what?” you finally snap to your senses. 
you don’t even realize where you are until sola is waving a hand in front of your face. after riki’s words, you definitely spaced out. how did you even get here, about to enter the youth group’s class?
she watches you worriedly. “you were walking down the hall like a zombie. did something happen?”
your mouth opens, but you aren’t able to formulate a response. yes-but no, not really - you don’t even know yourself. 
instead, you choose to place your hands on her shoulders and sigh pitifully. “you nishimuras are going to be the death of me…”
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after that day, every encounter with the menace that is nishimura riki only makes your life harder. 
much harder in the sense that you just want to shut him up with a kiss. his nonstop flirting made you wonder if he was born like this. i mean, everyone at the studio knew he was handsome. 
girls would whisper and flirt with him whenever he stepped into the studio. and yet, he rejected their advances and seemed disinterested. riki only acted crazy, well, in front of you. 
when you tried to bring it up discreetly to konon, she simply snorted. 
“riki’s used to the attention. it doesn’t phase him anymore. he’s like a little kid. he doesn’t care—i think he’s just not interested in anyone.” 
except, riki wasn’t like that around you. he was sweet, offering you water when no one else was around. he left snacks and silly notes in your dance locker. he would make funny faces and wink at you when his sisters weren’t looking.
it almost made you delusional. like maybe he… reciprocated your feelings? 
you hated keeping all your feelings suppressed, all behind konon’s back. still, you always asked to come over to her house when you knew riki was there. 
you couldn’t get him out of your mind. your best friend, konon’s, brother. if only they weren’t related. then nishimura riki would be the one for you. 
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“i’m gonna go use the restroom.”
konon hums as you leave to go out into the hall with purposefully loud steps. you hold your breath, praying that you’ll ‘run into’ riki somehow. you knew exactly which room was his, so you could only hope he came out at the exact moment you did. 
he doesn’t. deflated, you quietly tip toe over to his room, placing an ear to the door. 
you listen, hoping to hear some noise. it’s awfully quiet, maybe he’s not in his room-
whoosh! 
the door swings open and suddenly, you gasp as you’re dragged in. riki sneakily closes the door as you’re stunned by the latest sequence of events, almost jumping out of your skin.  
how in the world did you end up in riki’s room, with him, 
alone?
“riki-“
he shushes you by pushing his finger to your lips. goosebumps appear on your arm, simply by his touch. you didn’t even realize that his other hand was still holding onto yours. 
“eavesdropping, were you?” 
he renders you speechless. you really didn’t have an excuse… 
he grins, “or were you just hoping to bump into me?”
you mumble something random, embarrassed. 
“don’t worry, i was hoping to get you alone too.” 
your eyes flick up to him, before you sigh and pull your arm out of his warm grasp. “do you really wanna know why? it’s because i can’t keep wondering.”
“what do you mean?”
“i mean this,” you gesture outwards, “i can’t keep wondering about this-us- because…”
“because?” he gazes at you with adoration evident. you squint. 
oh, he knows. at that point, you realize he‘s known. riki has known for a long time, maybe even since the beginning. 
at this point, it’s too late. nothing else to do but swallow your pride. you stand up straight, biting your lips.  
“is it wrong for me to say that, i like you? like, a lot?” 
riki says nothing for a moment, which only serves to makes you panic. if you just made a huge mistake and misread all of his signals-
“honestly, i always liked you.”
your breath hitches. he shrugs, looking almost shy himself for the first time in front of you. 
“i noticed you on your first day. i just didn’t know you grew that close to my sister.” 
suddenly, riki leans in as if he’s about to kiss you. you quickly stop him by holding onto his broad shoulders. 
you swallow, searching his eyes. 
“but what about konon?”
he seems annoyed at the mention of his sister. “what about her?”
“you’re my best friend’s brother!”
riki simply smiles cheekily while leaning in, “she doesn’t have to know.” 
when your lips meet, you can’t help but smile. it felt so right, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up by your waist. 
it seems like your best friend’s brother really was the one for you. 
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a/n ▸ you know i had to for my 1000th post since riki is so bfb coded <333  
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thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months ago
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a/n: don’t even ask what this is because i have no explanation 🙈 i’m just out here obsessing over mat and squeaks always. and in a happy coincidence it’s barzy days (13) to the season opener!
word count: 2.3k
tw: pregnancy, mutual masturbation, dirty talk
summary: in your second trimester, you’re constantly worked up and desperate for mat, in any shape or form
Lately, by the time Mat gets home from a game you’re fast asleep, buried under a thick down comforter with pillows wedged all around your body so you won’t roll over onto your back.
It’s an extra precaution, since your doctor informed you that you don’t have to worry about staying off of your back while you sleep until later in your pregnancy. You’re only fifteen weeks, with a tiny little bump to your lower stomach, so you could comfortably sleep on your back with no problem, but you’d decided to try and get used to sleeping on your side as early as possible. As a stomach sleeper, this is the hardest part of pregnancy so far.
It’s easier when Mat’s in bed with you, curled up against his side and using him as a human body pillow.
He always tries to slip into bed quietly after his shower and most of the time, he’s successful.
But tonight you’re not as deeply asleep as usual, overly warm and twitchy under the covers. You’re in and out of sleep, face buried in Mat’s pillow, until you hear him creep into the bedroom and go straight for the shower. He’s already showered at the rink post-game, you know, but something about the soap they keep stocked there makes you nauseous, even into your second trimester. So, second shower with the good smelling home soap for Mat it is.
The bathroom door is only partially closed and you can hear the water turn on, his shuffling around and getting undressed. You shift, thighs pressing together, warm from the inside out.
All you can think about is Mat in the shower, naked and wet, and you feel about as horny as a sixteen-year-old boy.
As if Mat hadn’t licked you to an extremely satisfying orgasm just this morning.
Your hand slides down your stomach, dipping under the hem of your sweats, finding the sensitive bud of your clit. Huffing an impatient breath, you draw a quick, tight circle around it, wet and achy. Everything south of your belly button is heightened with extra blood flow, your cunt throbbing and slick.
“Ugh,” you grunt into the pillow, arousal dripping around your fingers and thighs like a faucet. You don’t want to get out of bed, don’t want to move any more than you have to, but all you can think about is Mat in the shower and your body moves on autopilot. The covers get flung back and you swing your legs out of bed, wiping your wet fingers on the outside of your thigh.
Mat jumps when you sneak into the bathroom, one hand smacking against the tiled wall. “Fuck,” he yelps, blinking water from his eyes. “Scared the shit out of me, I thought you were asleep.”
You shake your head and shrug, “I was, sort of. Like in and out of it, you know.”
You lean against the countertop and watch Mat through the steamed glass. He rubs a soapy hand over his chest and you blink slowly, feeling yourself drip even more. Soap slides down his chest, onto his stomach, further down and you watch its path hungrily.
Mat’s laugh echoes around the bathroom and you startle, shaking yourself slightly and crossing your arms over your chest to try and ground yourself.
“Huh?” You ask stupidly, realizing that he was talking the entire time that you were ogling him.
“I was saying,” he wipes a hand over the glass to clean it, giving you a better look at the shit eating grin on his face and the way his hair is slicked back with shampoo off his forehead, “you’re looking at me like I’m a fucking steak.”
“I can’t help it,” you whine, too horny to be embarrassed. “All my hormones are crazy.”
“Don’t blame the hormones,” Mat shakes his head, pushing the shower door open slightly. “Hop in and I’ll take care of my girl.”
Your entire body flushes, desperate for Mat’s touch, but you wrinkle your nose and shake your head. “I’m all warm and dry,” you counter, exhausted but wired. “I don’t wanna take off my sweats.”
Mat laughs at you again and you pout. “Squeaks, baby, how am I going to help you if you keep your pants on?” He ducks his head under the spray and rinses shampoo from his hair.
“I don’t know,” you sigh, dipping your hand back under the waistband of your sweats. Your fingers brush against the elastic of your panties and you exhale harshly. “I want you to make me come while I’m warm and cozy and not in the shower.”
You know you sound insane and based on the absolute flood between your legs, you need to get in the shower anyway so you don’t wake up all sticky and uncomfortable. The warring desires of comfy and horny are fighting it out in your body and you’re not sure who’ll win.
Mat grunts and you know he has to be tired, it’s late and he’d played his heart out in a grinding overtime win. You should just get in the shower with him and let him fuck you hard and fast the way you need, but you’re feeling bratty and playful, despite the late hour. You lean harder against the marble counter and watch through the steam and glass as Mat’s hand grips his cock. It hadn’t been hard before, but you can see it thickening in his grip.
“This is what we’re gonna do,” he says, drawing your attention back to his face. His hand works lazily over his cock. “Since you worked me up too, you’re going to push your pants down to your knees - stop, I know you’re comfortable,” he interjects over your faint protest, “and I’m going to tell you exactly how you’re going to get yourself off while I take care of business in here.”
He pauses, grins wickedly at you, and continues, “unless you want to hop in with me.”
“I’m keeping my sweatshirt on,” you reply tartly, using your other hand to push the waistband of your sweats to your knees. Your panties follow and your bare cunt is exposed to the steamy bathroom air. You shiver, even though it’s not cold, and press your fingers against the wet skin of your inner thighs.
Mat wipes at the glass again, letting his gaze flicker down to where your fingers are tracing around your folds. He hasn’t told you what to do yet, so you’re behaving. For now.
“Shame,” he grins. “I like looking at your tits when I jack off. And the cute little curve of your belly that proves that you’re mine.”
His hand works over his cock, from base to tip where he runs his palm over the head, squeezing harshly before going back down over his shaft and balls. It’s been a while since you watched Mat jerk himself off, usually ready to lend a helping hand, so to speak, pretty quickly after he starts. Your breath hitches in your chest, watching his hand move and his cock harden. Pride bubbles up too, knowing that you’re the reason he’s getting hard and worked up.
“Mmm,” you hum, “use your imagination.”
Mat closes his eyes and you laugh, breath stuttering in your chest when he lets out an exaggerated, dramatic moan. “Got the best tits I’ve ever seen,” he replies cheekily. “I’d lick your nipples, bite them even though they’re all sensitive now, if you got in here with me.”
Your nipples tighten against your shirt, painful and sore, and you’d definitely like to get Mat’s mouth on them. “Finish your shower and come join me in bed,” you offer, thighs shaking the closer your fingers get to your clit. “We can be cozy, you can fuck me silly, like I want.”
“You came in here to tease me,” Mat counters. “I’m not letting you off that easy. Go ahead, baby, touch yourself. Let me see you drip down your thighs.”
“Oh thank god,” you mutter, delving your fingers between your legs and playing with your clit. You’re unbearably achy, sensitive to even the faintest touch, and the press of your fingers against your clit is like an electric shock. You exhale and slump against the counter, letting it hold your weight.
You can hear Mat’s hand roughly jerking his cock, grunting and groaning over the sound of the water. “Can hear you over here,” he rasps, “you’re so wet. Fucking love how wet and horny you are.”
“Nothing works like your cock, Mat,” you whine, two fingers sliding easily into your soaked entrance with a squelch. “Just want you to fill me all the time. I need you.”
“Every day,” he promises, his free hand splayed over the glass, forearm holding his weight. “I’ll give you as many fucking orgasms as you want, every damn day. Just, add another finger. G’head, fuck yourself for me.”
You add the third finger and curl them, trying to hit your g-spot while your thumb circles your clit. It’s only barely enough and you cry, whining for Mat.
“There you go,” he praises you in a strangled voice and you angle your neck to watch him stroke his cock. The head disappears into his fist and reappears, touching the shower door when Mat leans forward and leaving a smudge behind. “Almost there, I can tell. Play with your nipples, baby, pinch them for me.”
You instinctively try to spread your legs wider, but get stuck with the fabric around your knees and grumble, leaning over the counter to try and get your fingers even deeper.
“As soon as you come, baby,” Mat’s voice sounds like he’s grinning, “I’m gonna come and then I’ll take you to bed, fill your cunt with my cock and fuck you to sleep.”
“Yes, please, Mat,” you sigh, dragging your free hand up your stomach until you can twist your nipple, an electric spark coiling in your belly. It doesn’t take much more after that, your fingers pumping in and out of your cunt sloppily, Mat letting the dirty talk fly fast and loose, sending you over the edge of an orgasm, shouting his name and squirting all over your hand and the floor.
“Fuuuck,” Mat draws out the curse, “made such a mess, my girl. Look so goddamn gorgeous pregnant with my baby, gonna lick you clean, want a taste of you.” He trails off, muttering to himself, until he comes a few moments later, a guttural groan drawn from his chest. He makes his own mess, ropes of come all over the shower door and his stomach. You watch, eyes heavy and chest heaving, while Mat finishes, your gaze drawn to his twitching cock and the tendons flexing in his forearm.
He drops his head to rest against the glass, panting, and it’s enough to get you wet again. You start giggling, surprised at your body’s audacity to still be so hot for Mat even while you’re growing a baby. You’ve Googled, wondering if it’s normal to be this damn horny during pregnancy, and it’s honestly a relief to find that a higher sex drive is normal in the second trimester. You’d been halfway convinced that you were a nymphomaniac after your morning sickness had disappeared and you’d needed multiple orgasms a week from Mat, sometimes multiple a day.
“What’s funny?” He lifts his head and grabs the bar of soap to wash off again. His movements are languid now, slower and less deliberate.
You kick your legs out of your sweats and grab a washcloth out from under the sink, cleaning yourself up while you reply, “the fact that I literally am still so fucking horny right now. Morning sickness went away and I turn into a teenage boy.”
The shower turns off and Mat steps out, wrapping a towel around his waist. Your gaze tracks the droplets of water trailing down his chest and he laughs, watching you. “I don’t have a problem with it,” he reaches for your wrist, tugging you close so he can kiss you properly.
You’re still pantsless and the kissing isn’t helping anything. “Stop that,” you mutter, nudging at his chest with your knuckles. “If you keep that up, I’ll never let you sleep.”
“Maybe I don’t want to sleep,” he kisses you again, his thumb rubbing over your wrist bone.
“But I do,” you grumble, melting into him. Your body buzzes with energy, reacting to Mat’s touch. He smooths his free hand over your hip, fingertips tapping at your ass cheek. “I need sleep, Mat.”
Without even realizing it, Mat’s maneuvered you back into the bedroom. Your hands land on the towel knotted at his waist and you tug on the fabric. It’s tented slightly in the front and you could so easily have him slip inside of you. “One more,” you say, completely contradictory. You blame it on the hormones, your excuse for everything lately.
But then you yawn, jaw cracking loudly, and Mat smiles at you softly. “Bed,” he orders, wandering away to get you a fresh pair of underwear and pants. “No practice tomorrow, so if you’re still in the mood, we’ll make a lazy morning of it.”
You let Mat manhandle you into bed, pillows tucked behind your back and knees, suddenly exhausted. You settle easily back into the nest of blankets that you’d left behind, watching Mat drop his towel into the hamper and get dressed. “Ass out like that, makes it really hard for me to not want to bite you,” you comment around another yawn.
“Bite me tomorrow,” Mat chuckles and climbs into bed with you, submitting to being your human pillow. You drape your leg over his thigh and sigh happily when he wraps an arm around your shoulder and nestles you against his side.
You relax against him and Mat draws circles on your arm with his fingers, lulling you to sleep. You’re almost passed out until a thought occurs and you say, into the dark room, “can you go out for bagels tomorrow? I would kill for a bacon, egg, and cheese.”
“Anything you want, Squeaks,” Mat replies, amusement lacing his tone. “Now go to sleep.”
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schrijverr · 11 months ago
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Batman Pulling Out the Thumb to Get the Schmutz Off
Nightwing is late to a meeting due to an exploding building. Batman goes to check him over, licking his thumb to clean his face. As Nightwing complains about it, they learn that no one realized that Batman is his dad.
Based on this post.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: none
~~~~
“Sorry, I’m late, there was an explosion on the way here I had to deal with,” Nightwing interrupts the start of the annual review meeting of the Justice League.
“It’s alright,” Superman smiles kindly. “Is everything okay in Blüdhaven? If you need to go back to help, we won’t stop you.”
“Nah, it’s okay, Blüd isn’t new to explosions here and there. Thank you, though,” Nightwing assures him.
Before he can go and take his seat so they can resume the meeting, everyone gets jump-scared by Batman, who suddenly appears next to Nightwing. Not many had noticed him anxiously watching the door for the past ten minutes and how he was not playing attention to the meeting, instead listening to someone on his coms.
They watch in confusion as he wordlessly, tugs Nightwing towards him, before starting to check him over, like he sometimes does with victims they’ve saved.
Before anyone can ask what’s happening, Nightwing rolls his eyes, saying: “I’m okay, I’m okay, it wasn’t anything big, you know. Just a warning to between gangs that one was entering another’s turf. Just the usual minor stuff, you know?” Nightwing surprisingly isn’t fighting Batman’s weird overbearing checking, just letting him move him about, even though he’s usually incredibly stubborn around getting injured.
Everyone watches the two with confusion, the meeting even more interrupted than it already was. A few are starting to wonder if anything happened to Batman, but no one is sure how to interrupt tactfully, since the two seem close all of a sudden.
“You were still nearly caught up in it,” Batman says, voice low. It would almost sound like a threat or reproach, if it weren’t for how gentle his hands are being.
“I know exploding warehouses are touchy, but I’m totally fine,” Nightwing assures him. “Didn’t even touch me.”
Batman pokes his ribs and he flinches away slightly. Batman says: “Bruised ribs say it did.”
“It’s nothing,” Nightwing huffs, batting Batman’s hands away, apparently having decided that enough is enough. It’s the most normal thing he’s done yet, though it immediately gets weird again when he sulkily adds: “And you only know that, because O told you.”
“No,” Batman says, taking off his glove – a thing that has never happen before, because their resident Bat is paranoid about someone stealing his fingerprints – before licking his thumb. He brings it up to Nightwing’s face and starts rubbing at his face, admonishing: “I know, because you always forget your jaw when cleaning off soot.”
Again, Nightwing bats Batman’s hand away, but this time he whines: “Daaaaad.”
He sounds embarrassed, but the Justice League doesn’t really care about whether or not having your dad clean your face as an adult is embarrassing, because they’re still wrapping their heads around the fact that Nightwing just called Batman dad.
Dad.
While Robin calls the man father sometimes, both he and Red Robin are always nothing but professional when in the field with the older heroes. And Batman is always professional back. He never lets paternal feelings slip through in public.
So, to suddenly see it play out how Batman would be as a father – with someone they didn’t know was related to him and without introduction to the concept – is quite the shock.
Seemingly oblivious to most of the Justice League around them blue-screening, Nightwing finally manages to wrangle Batman away from him, saying: “I’m too old for this. Go clean Robin’s face.”
Then, right as they think they’ve gathered themselves, Batman replies sadly: “Soon you’re all going to be too old for this,” sounding genuinely heartbroken at the thought.
Nightwing winces, then goes to comfort the older vigilante, patting his back as he says: “Ahw, don’t mope, B. We’re never going to be too old for you embarrassing us in front of everyone.”
Weirdly enough that seems to comfort Batman, who gives Nightwing a final one over, before being satisfied. Then he turns back and says: “Apologies for the interruption, Superman. Please, continue.”
“Wait, hold on just a second here,” Flash says. “You’re Nightwing’s dad?”
“Yes?” Batman replies, his voice giving away that that is obvious. Even going so far as to share a look with Nightwing that screams ‘what the fuck are they on about’ as if the League is being weird instead of them.
“Since when?” Flash exclaims.
“Since I was nine,” Nightwing exclaims back, throwing his hands up. “You know me, uncle Flash. Me and Walls were in YJ together. What the fuck?”
“He never mentioned a Nightwing,” Flash frowns, trying to go through the rolodex of friends his cousin brought around to see who matches up.
“Oh my god, of course not. I used to be Robin, don’t you know that?” Nightwing rolls his eyes, exasperated. A beat of silence. “Okay, wow, so you all didn’t know that.” He turns to Batman and asks: “Why didn’t they know that?”
“You wanted to be your own hero. Besides, if we had a connection, it could be used against us,” Batman replies, not even having the decency to sound apologetic about hiding it.
Nightwing facepalms at that, before taking a calming breath. Meanwhile, everyone else is on the edge of their seat to see how Batman will react to that blatant disrespect. Many of them have never dared to try.
Batman doesn’t react, just stands there as Nightwing says: “B, we had a talk about your paranoia. I get it, but this is unnecessary. Most of them already knew me before I joined.”
“It was more a lie by omission, not a true attempt at obfuscating,” Batman argues and it’s almost a little childish sounding. What the hell has today been? Are they in an alternate dimension? Again.
“Please tell me you have not been omitting my horde of siblings,” Nightwing asks, sounding a little strained as he steeples his hands in front of his lips.
“Siblings?” Superman asks cautiously. “Like Robin and Red Robin? We know them. Not really a horde, but…”
“Oh my fucking god,” Nightwing exclaims. “B!”
“They never asked,” Batman defends himself.
“Okay, I’m getting kind of scared now, define a horde,” Green Lantern interjects cautiously, taking one for the team.
“Do not,” Batman warns, but Nightwing ignores him as he starts listing on his fingers: “Well, obviously there is me, then there’s Red Robin and Robin, you know them. You have Red Hood, Black Bat, and Signal. Oracle, Spoiler and Bluebird are kind of honorary siblings. Batwoman is our aunt and Batwing kind of the uncle slash cousin and Flamebird is also our cousin.”
“What the hell, Spooky!”
642 notes · View notes
springgirlshowers · 3 months ago
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Let Me Show You
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Summary: You haven’t been feeling very pretty lately, Joost decides to prove you wrong, and he won’t let you finish until you admit that you are.
CW: negative self talk/self image, tiny bit of crying, body worship, teasing, praise, so much foreplay, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, i use google translate for dutch (im sorry 😭)
WC: 2827
A/N: i wassss gonna wait to post this, but i couldn’t help myself it feels wrong to keep the world waiting </33 challenge: take a shot every time the word “kiss” is said in this fic
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You hadn’t been feeling well at all today.
Not in the sick with the flu sort of well, more of just not feeling well with yourself. Not feeling content with yourself.
It started in the morning, when you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Joost was already gone, needing to stop by Teuns to clean up a few songs.
You leaned forwards in the mirror, analyzing your face. Feeling disappointed at it, for some reason, it felt like every single tiny little flaw was extremely noticeable. Every blemish, every bump, every pore, it all felt so much more noticeable.
You pushed at the apple of your cheeks, then leaning away from the mirror to look at your body.
You turned to the side, looking at your stomach and squeezing the flesh. Dropping your arms weakly as you continued to stare at yourself.
You felt ugly. You hated it. You wanted to crawl out of your own body.
Since that was impossible, you threw on a matching pair of gray sweats. Then curling yourself into a ball under the sheets. Hiding away from the world.
About three hours later, you heard the door unlock and the sound of shoes being kicked off. Joost called out your name, stopping once he saw the sight of your back and head on the bed, the rest of you covered up by the duvet.
He knew you were awake, it was only a few minutes after 3PM.
He walked over to your side of the bed, sitting on the edge and smiling at you as he stroked your hair. He could already tell from the look on your face that you were upset.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He spoke softly, eyebrows knit together in concern.
“Nothing, I’m just a bit tired.” You shrugged, Joost let out a breath through his nose, seeing straight through your lie.
Joost was your lover, of course he knew the difference between a tired expression versus a gloomy expression on your face.
“I know it’s not that, schat. Something’s bothering you.” Your eyes darted away for a second, you were trying to decide if you should keep up this act of just being “tired” or be honest.
“It’s really nothing, Joost.”
“You keeping whatever it is bottled up is only gonna make it worse, liefje. Trust me, I would know.” Joost tutted, rubbing your thigh.
He was right, you would know as well. You’ve told him the same thing before when he’d be upset about something.
"I just..." You sighed as you sat up, already feeling embarrassed about your upcoming confession. "I haven't been feeling very pretty lately." Joosts face turned into an immediate frown.
"How? What's not pretty about you?" He sounded almost insulted, insulted by the fact you would think so negatively about you.
"My face looks wrong. My body looks wrong. I’ve got a tummy on me. I don't know. I don’t know how to explain it exactly, I just don't feel attractive." You sighed, dragging your hands down your face.
“We all have a tummy. I’ve got a tummy.” He poked his stomach, smiling looking at it and then back up at you.
You shook your head as an amused smile spread on your face, you pulled the duvet off the rest of your body due to the heat becoming uncomfortable.
“You know what I mean, Joost.” You silently groaned and put your face into your hands.
“I do. But I don’t care.” Joosts voice was smooth as he removed your hands from your face, your eyes were already watering, he let out a sympathetic hum.
“You might not think it. But you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
You knew Joost was telling the truth. Anytime he would look at you, he felt like he was looking at an a real life angel sent by God himself.
You were just too far deep in the rabbit hole of your negative self talk.
Tears began to slip from your eyes and you turned your head away, Joost still had his hands cupped lightly around your face.
“I’m sorry. You know I don’t look pretty when I cry.” You sniffled, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “My face gets all pink and blotchy.”
Joost gently turned your face back to him, taking in all your beautiful features.
“I love your face. Even if it’s all pink and blotchy.” His words got a small laugh out of you, he grinned .
“You really think so?” You asked, voice still shaky.
“I know so.” He wiped away another tear from your cheek with his thumb. This was cliché, but you loved it. You loved him.
“I can prove it to you, if you want?” Joost raised his brows, you knew exactly what he was suggesting. You nodded happily.
He quickly put his lips against yours, kissing so passionately. So sweetly.
“I wanna make a deal, ja?” Joost said in between kisses. You nodded.
“I’m gonna show you how beautiful you are.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “I’m going to tell you, show you until you know it’s true.” He kisses the other side. “And then…you’re gonna tell me how pretty you are, then I’ll make you cum. Ja?”
“Joost..” You mumbled out, flustered already.
“You okay with that deal?” He kissed your lips gently, brushing some hair out your face.
“Okay. Okay. We have a deal.” You giggled, eyes closing.
“Good.” He smiled, the type of smile that made you feel like you could melt straight into the sheets. He kissed you one more time before moving his lips along your jaw.
He moved his hand, rubbing his thumb softly over your bottom lip.
“You know how much I love your lips.” He ran his mouth along your jaw, before moving to hover his face over yours.
“And your nose. This cute little nose.” He gave you a peck just on the tip of your nose, tapping it after and making a little boop! noise.
His antics got a small sniffle and laugh out of you. God, he was so silly. So unserious in such an intimate moment like this. You loved it. It made your nervousness fade away.
He moved to kiss both your eyelids next, so silly.
“Your eyes, I could stare into them all day if you didn’t think it was so creepy.” He chuckled. “Zo mooi. Ik zie je gezicht in mijn dromen.” He whispered, quickly moving his mouth to your neck. Your breath hitched as he placed sloppy kisses all over it.
His mouth ran over that sweet spot that made you let out a soft whimper, you could feel his smirk against your skin.
“Mijn mooie meisje.” His breath against your neck tickled, making you inch away from it.
His hands began to slide underneath your baggy sweatshirt, sliding up and down before going up one last time and bringing your sweatshirt with him.
He soon did the same with your sweatpants as he moved his lips along your collarbones, you lifted your hips to help remove them. He tossed them on the floor, along with your top.
He pulled away from your skin to look at you in complete awe. You were a bit embarrassed due to your extremely plain underwear, you didn’t bother to put on a bra this morning. If you knew you’d be getting intimate today, you would’ve worn something nicer.
Yet Joost didn’t care, his face didn’t care at all. Still staring at you like you were a dream come true. You were.
“Can’t believe you’d want to hide such a gorgeous body like this.” He grazed his fingers down your arm, grabbing your hand and lifting it up to your mouth, kissing your knuckles.
Your hands came up unconsciously to conceal your chest. Joost didn’t let this happen. He intertwined his hands with each of yours, holding them against the mattress.
“Aw, no hiding. I wanna see these pretty tits of yours.” You bit your lip and turned your head away, surprised at his explicit words.
He quickly brought his lips to your chest, kissing all over it. Between the valley of your breasts, above and below them. Finally placing his mouth on one of them.
A sharp gasp let out of you, Joost chuckled against you. Sucking and nipping at your breast, leaving red and purpling hickies.
He took your nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch your back slightly, he moved one hand to your other breast. Squeezing and playing with it for a little before switching his mouths attention to that one.
He didn’t need words to tell you how much he loved your tits. The messy kisses from his mouth were enough.
He ignored the way his dick was hardening in his pants at the sounds of your whimpers and breaths of pleasure. This evening, he was focusing on you, and you only.
He trailed his lips down, stopping at your stomach. He dragged his hands down, sliding them to the sides of your waist and squeezing, making you shiver.
“You know how much I love your tummy. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve fallen asleep when I lay my head on it.” He pressed a kiss just below your bellybutton. “Such a cute stomach, I don’t get how you could be so embarrassed of such a beautiful tummy like this.”
You weren’t sure how your stomach could be beautiful. But then you remembered all the times you thought the same about Joosts, going insane over the sight of it.
“All day all I do is want to hold you. I dream about it when I’m away. Did you know that?” He looked up at you, he looked like a goddamn dream.
You shook your head and he gave you a dramatic pout.
“No? I guess I should’ve told you sooner.” He moved his hands and squeezed your hips, another giggle escaped you.
He trailed small, slow, pecks above the waistband of your underwear. Soon hooking his fingers underneath and pulling them down your legs. Kissing your thighs as he did so.
He parted your legs with gentle hands, letting out a coo of adoration at the sight of you. You blushed and bit your finger, turning your head to the side.
He brought a tattooed hand back up to the side of your face, turning your gaze back to him as his thumb smoothed over your cheek.
He smiled at you with a face of pure infatuation. Not needing words to say how he felt about you once again.
He leaned down, eloping his lips around yours as you brought your head up from the pillow, pushing into the kiss.
A finger came up to your clit, gathering your wetness, you let a shaky breath into his mouth.
“It’s okay.” He smiled. Making a beeline of kisses all the way down until his mouth stopped right above your clit.
He held onto your thighs, bringing them up and squeezing the plush of them in his hands, bending your legs.
“Oh, so soft. I’d live in between your legs if you let me.”
“Naughty boy.” You giggled.
“Just being truthful.” He shrugged, he watched in adoration as he rubbed his middle finger in between your folds, his finger already covered in your slick. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He cooed.
He carefully inserted his finger inside you, staring at your face with a smile, watching how your mouth parted, eyes fluttering.
He came back up as his finger slowly pushed in and out, watching your face up close as he inserted a second finger.
“You ready to tell me what you are? Hm?” You tried your best to look at him as you let out a whiny moan. Which was your way of saying “Not really.”
“No? Then I should stop here, ja?” His fingers slowly began to pull out.
“Nononono. Pleasepleaseplease.” You breathed out, grabbing his hand to keep it from fully pulling away. He let out a defeated sigh.
“You’re lucky you’re so stunning. I’ll let you get away with it for now.” He kissed your cheek.
You let go of his wrist as his fingers began to pick up their pace once again, your eyes fluttering shut and mouth parting will small gasps.
He moved his mouth back to your chest, sucking at your tits, leaving little lovebites, you knew you’d be covered in red and purple marks by tomorrow.
He continued that same pattern of kissing trailing down until he reached your cunt.
“Cmon liefje, I need you to tell me how beautiful you are.” He rubbed his head against your thigh.
You shook your head as you bit down on your lip, eyes squeezing shut, you were already close to an orgasm.
“Hm, if you’re not gonna tell me, then I guess we’ll stop here.” He shrugged, puffing out his bottom lip as he removed his fingers from you.
“No!” You whined out at the sudden emptiness, cunt clenching around nothing. “Joost, you’re being mean.” You whined, hips squirming.
“Mm, I’m being fair. You tell me you’re pretty and I will let you cum.” He flicked a finger quickly against your clit, he grinned at the way your body jerked.
“Just admit what we both know is true.” He said in a sing-song voice. You rolled your eyes, frustrated.
“If you just tell me then I’ll give you want you want, liefje.” He teased again.
“Fine. I’m pretty.” You mumbled, you saw the way Joosts face perked up.
“Speak up schatje, I cannot hear you.” He could hear you, but he wanted to hear you loud and clear.
“I’m pretty.” You said, much louder this time.
“How pretty?” He cocked his head in a mocking manner, resting it against the plush of your thigh as his fingers slowly increased their speed.
Was he really doing this? Bastard.
“Really pretty. Fuck- I’m really pretty.” You said through shaky breaths.
“Ja, keep going.” He encouraged, licking a stripe up your cunt as his fingers pumped into you, and you whined again, he loved how flustered you looked.
He was eating you out like a man starved, his tongue deep and swirling circles around your clit, you weren’t even sure you’d be able to speak any coherent words.
“I’m pretty. God, fuck- I’m really pretty, Joost.” Your back began to arch off the bed, your hand reaching down to grip his hair as he hummed against your core.
“I’m so pretty, Joost. So so pretty, please. I’m beautiful, god. Fuck. Please, I’m pretty.” You begged, repeating it like it was a mantra. This was exactly Joosts goal.
“Dat klopt.” He pulled away from you to praise, his breath fanning against your cunt before he attached his lips back to it, beginning to suck on your clit.
Joost held onto your hips to still them. Your legs began to shake and the moans leaving you were borderline pornographic, loud and dramatic. But they were real, not forced.
“Joost, please, Joost. I’m pretty. Please can I cum? Please?” You begged, tears forming in your eyes. All the teasing before this made you so sensitive.
“Go ahead.” The vibration of his voice added to the pleasure, his fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot.
Finally, finally you were cumming. The waves of your orgasm crashing over you, the intensity making the tears in your eyes fall and trail down the sides of your face. Joost continued as you rode through the aftershock, squealing and crying out as your grip on his hair tightened. He moaned against your dripping core.
He finally pulled away once your moans became raspy and you were squirming around. His chin covered in your wetness while he had the most prideful cheesy grin on his face.
“Mijn prachtige meisje. You did so good. So good for me.” He whispered against your skin, pressing small kisses all around your pussy and onto your thighs. Your body twitched with each peck, already overstimulated from all the teasing he did.
He crawled back up to hover over you, wiping the tears that fell with a gentle hand. A saccharine smile on his face to match the saccharine kiss he gave you next. You were still so shaky and out of breath, eyes droopy as you looked at him.
“Feel any better?” He ran his fingers through your hair, scratching at your head, you leaned into his touch.
“Yeah…actually. Yeah.” You gave him a puzzled smile, not expecting this to actually work.
“See. I knew you’d try for me.” He smooched your forehead.
“I’m really sweaty, I need a bath.” You laughed, still breathless.
“I’ll run you one.” He sighed playfully, knowing that your words were a request.
“Will you carry me?” He let out another chuckle, shaking his head in amusement before scooping you up bridal style.
“I can never say no to you.”
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starogeorgina · 6 months ago
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𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬
Paring: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targ oc
Warnings: Smut, violence, blood, swearing
1.16
Jacaerys flinches in pain. His fingers dig into the dark brown leather arms of the chair as the maester finishes stitching the wound in his thigh where the arrow had struck him. Jace had reluctantly accepted the smallest amount of milk from the poppy after being persuaded by your mother, who was becoming distressed seeing him in pain. Your mother and Daemon had taken kings landing without any bloodshed when the green army guarding the city dropped their weapons and retreated when they saw Syrax and Caraxes circling above the keep. But the cheering for your mother's victory was short-lived when you and Jacaerys returned injured.
When the maester moves away, a handmaiden steps forward with a bowl of clean water and a cloth to wipe the blood away. Her touch is unintentionally harsh, and when Jace clenches his fist, you decide to intervene.
“Allow me.”
You hold your hand out to take the bowl from her, but the handmaiden looks back at Maester, as if she’s waiting for him to give her permission. The sooner Maester Gerardys arrived from Dragonstone, the better. You didn’t blame the girl for being unsure; she had served the greens for so long that she probably thought you were all monsters.
“I can tend to my husband,” you say softly. “You may go; we will be fine.”
The handmaid leaves the bowl and cloth on the table, then bows before leaving. Clearing his throat, the maester says, “I will need to return soon and put a fresh bandage on the princess’s arm to cover the stitches, my prince.”
“I will redress the princess’s arm once she has bathed.”
“My prince, princess,” the maester seems unsure but goes without saying anything further. Since maester Orwyle was in chains, the current maester would only be serving in the keep for a short time before returning to the citadel.
Exhausted, you sit on the floor between Jace’s legs and start washing away the blood, old and new. Seeing fresh tears gather in your eyes, Jace gently tilts your chin up to face him. “I hate seeing you hurt.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know my love, but it’s over. Our mother is on the throne, and the greens are no longer a threat. Our children can come home.”
You press your cheek against his clothed thigh. “It’s not over, though; Aegon escaped. He will still have men willing to back him for being born with a cock. What if he finds our children before we do?”
Jace’s jaw tightens. He couldn’t deny it was a possibility. “Sunfyre is still in the dragon pit; Aegon won’t be able to go north on foot. If he’s smart, he’ll leave the red keep. Knights have been sent to search Old Town and what remains of the riverlands.”
He was right; as long as Aegon was unable to reach his dragon, he’d be stuck lurking in the sewers where he belonged. The greens were currently locked in the cells of the castle, aside from the most dangerous one. “I’ve still not received a raven back yet; I’m worried.”
“It will take a couple of days, my love, and I trust Lord Stark will let no harm come to our family.”
“I best get this off you,” your hands shake as you resume wiping blood off his leg. When Jace suddenly tenses, you stop. “Jacaerys?”
He quickly steps in front of you, snatching his sword that’s lying on the wooden table. The door to the chamber bursts open, and in the commotion, you knock the bowl containing bloody water over. Daemon comes to an abrupt halt. “There are six members of the kingsguard posted outside these quarters, and you believed our enemies could waltz by them?”
“And yet some of the very same kingsguard remained in kings landing and served the greens. Until her grace chooses knights herself, I won’t trust them.”
“How very wise, my prince,” Daemon smiles before looking both over. “You are both still filthy. Good. Come along; her grace wants us to join her immediately.”
Jace finds solace holding you close in the bed you’d be spending the night in. As your mother only reclaimed her rightful throne earlier that day, permanent quarters had yet to be readied, and the servants were working hard to remove any sigils of the usurper before hanging your mother's banners. Not that you cared about something so insignificant as sleeping quarters; you just wanted the day to be over.
Jace smiles at your shoulder; your robe is open at the front, giving him access to the bare skin of your stomach. He traces his finger along the glossy-looking scars left from multiple pregnancies.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing; I’m just admiring how beautiful you are.”
A small laugh passes your lips. “You can hardly even see my scaly scars in this light.”
Over the years, Jacaerys would insist you think of the stretch marks as dragon scales whenever you complained of them. From anyone else, it may have been an insult, but Jace always said it admiringly. Neither of you had bathed since returning, as Daemon said it would be good for the people to see Rhaenyra's eldest children and heirs looking like warriors. Both of your bodies and hair were covered in soot, blood, and dirt. Jace stripped his clothes off, then collapsed onto the bed naked, while you threw a thin blue robe on.
“They are reminders of how strong you are, only adding to your beauty.”
You chuckle at his sweet words. You run your fingers through Jace’s thick hair, keeping as you start to fall into a slumber, but the pressure building makes you reposition further up the bed until you’re sitting with your back against the headrest. Jace looks at you quizzically and moves to sit beside you.
“The weight of my breasts is hurting my back.”
He glances at you sympathetically. If your baby was here, the pain would subside dramatically since you’d be able to feed him. You noticed Jace’s gaze now lingering on your swollen breast. Realizing he’s been caught, he gulps down, “This is the biggest they have ever been.”
You readjust your posture, and this time Jace does the same, so he’s right beside you. He pushes your robe open further and cups your breasts, feeling the warm, swollen flesh in his hands as he lifts them slightly.
“Gods.”
“Feel any better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He slowly rubs circles on your sensitive nipples until they are hard, then dips his head down to take one into his mouth. Jace gives equal attention to both breasts, licking and sucking on them to give you relief. One of his hands slowly moves from your breast, down your rib cage, and stops just below your navel. Wetness was gathering between your thighs, and Jace knew this by the way you pressed your legs together.
His lips ghost over yours. “What do you want?”
“For my husband to desire me.”
“Sweet wife, all I’ve ever wanted was you, and even now, I still ache for your touch.” Jace caresses your thigh; the metal on his rings is cool against your skin. He presses his long finger through your slit, gathering arousal, then rubs it over your clit, causing you to moan. He sucks on your nipple again.
Lewd sounds fall from your mouth as Jace pushes a finger between your folds. Your back arches at his touch. Given how long it had been since you were last intimate and how reactive your body was to his touch, it doesn’t take long for your legs to begin shaking as your orgasm gets closer. Jace props at your hole with a second finger, but when you wince, he pulls it away.
“Still so tight, princess; I don’t wish to hurt you.”
“Fuck, Jace!”
Screaming his name, you climax over his fingers. “If it weren’t for the pain and wound on your thigh, I’d mount and ride you as I would a dragon.”
“I will be most definitely looking forward to the feeling of you claiming me as yours again.” Smiling, his nose brushes against yours, “but I’m not done with you yet for the night. I’m desperate to taste you.”
“Have the cots moved slightly further apart. My sons will only kick each other during the night if they are too close.”
The handmaiden nods. “I will have them moved, princess.”
In the early hours of the morning, you were informed your mother's old quarters would be the ones you would reside in. The color green was almost completely withdrawn from the castle walls. All bedchambers would be adorned with the sigil of House Targaryen, along with the moon-and-falcon sigil of House Arryn, to honor Queen Aemma. And a silver seahorse on sea green from House Velaryon to honor not only your husband but also your late father, Laenor Velaryon. Aemma and Rhaenys bedchambers would be beside each other, and Avery and Aethan would share a room until they were older.
“Thank you… forgive me, I never caught your name.”
“Mia Princess. Which bedchamber would you like to be in Prince Daemon’s room?”
“The room next to his brothers, but have his cot brought to my side of the bed. My babe will be sleeping in the same room as us.”
Nearly all of the servants had traveled from Dragonstone by boat to serve the queen in King's landing. The handmaidens who knew how to care for your children chose several items for their new chambers, including furniture, clothing, and bedding. You pick up one of the blankets and look for the name sewn into it.
“Good morrow, my prince.”
“Good morrow,” he nods politely. “Good morrow, wife.”
Noticing something was slightly off with Jacaerys, you turn to face the handmaiden. “Could you ask for them to move the crib into our bedchamber before building the furniture in the princess’s room?”
“Of course, right away, princess.”
“Thank you, Mia.” When she’s out of the room, you place a hand on Jace’s arm. “Something wrong, my prince?”
“You haven’t eaten this morning.”
Chuckling, you look at him surprised. “Is that all? I could not find sleep and bathed early, then got caught up in different things. I have news: a raven arrived from Clara, and the children are fine. The Stark’s are taking good care of them.”
“Thank the gods!” he sighs in relief. Jacaerys, like you, was terrified that something would happen to them; his calm demur about the situation was just a front. Stepping forward, he holds the blanket in your hand at the opposite end. “Aega?”
“It’s supposed to say Aegarax, but I’ve not had the time to finish it.” You’d embroider the name of your children’s dragons into their blankets once they are chosen. “Soon all my time will be consumed with motherly duties again, and I for one cannot wait.”
Jace runs his knuckle over your cheek; the gaze in his eyes is nothing short of adoration. “My love, I don’t believe those duties ever stopped.”
Growing up as the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you were spoiled with the finest gowns and jewelry. Even when you lived among vipers, you still had an exceptional wardrobe. But as one of your handmaidens finished the intricate braids in your silver hair, you felt different. The black dress was made of the softest free-flowing fabric and was slightly shorter at the front to allow your red dragon riding boots to be worn soon. On the bodice of the dress, a three-headed red dragon is sewn in. The sleeves were short enough for the stitches on your arm to be seen.
Daemon’s gaze was burning into the back of you as he patiently waited. He knew how important keeping appearances was. He was dressed in the armor that he would wear into battle.
When the braiding is finished, you excuse the handmaiden and stand. Daemon gives you an approving nod: “You look fearsome, good daughter. Queen Visenya would be proud. Not only a princess, but a Targaryen dragon-rider who fights for the rightful queen.”
Toying with the rings on your fingers, you say, “Might I ask where we are going? I don’t believe her grace mentioned us going to battle on dragon back.”
“To face our enemies. As you know, Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Jacaerys are discussing solutions on how best to deal with the crown's debt to the Iron Bank caused by the usurper, and her grace wishes for you to take the lead on another issue. Shall we go?”
Daemon has his hand on the hilt of dark sister as you follow his lead, making your way through the hallways of the keep. When the halls are nearly empty, Daemon breaks the silence. “As I said to her grace, you and Prince Jacaery are perfectly matched. You both possess your mother’s gentle nature, are quick to anger, and never forget a slight; however, if you are to rule one day, we will need to make sure you can channel your anger properly.”
“Ah yes, something you strive in, Prince Daemon.”
He chuckles, “Our queen thinks the same thing. Which is why she thinks it's best you decide what happens next.”
You stop walking when you reach the outside of the throne room. It scares you, not knowing what awaits on the other side. “I’m frightened, Daemon,” you say quietly enough that only he can hear. “What if I let my mother and Jacaerys down?”
“You are a Targaryen, Lyarra. Blood of the dragon, and one day you’ll be queen. The simple truth is that, as the daughter of the first queen of Westeros, you’ll have to understand the importance of your responsibilities.”
“I understand my responsibilities.”
“Why am I to decide?” You ask in your mother tongue.
High Valyrian rolls off Daemon’s tongue impeccably. “The queen still feels guilt sending you to live with these usurper cunts. She is trying to make amends.”
It hurts your heart to know your mother still blames herself for how badly the Hightowers treated you.
Although Aegon fled when your mother and Daemon took back the king's landing, the rest of the green council were arrested and held in the black cells of the keep. Not daring to overstep by sitting on the throne that belongs to your mother, you stand in front of it. Your hands become sweaty as you look down at the prisoners who were on their knees, trying to decide their fate. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, especially with the memories of how cruelly you had been treated coming flooding back. You glance at Lady Baela, the only other member of the Queen's Council who is currently present. She gives you a small nod, a silent act of support.
Clearing your throat, you speak in English again and address members of the kingsguard. “Return Maester Orwyle, Ser Tyland Lannister, Lord Jasper Wyldel, to their previous cells. They are to be sharply questioned to see if they are of any further use to us.”
“And if they aren’t?” Daemon asks with a mischievous look on his face.
“Then they can either die or go north and join the nightwatch. Take Ser Arryk to the cells on the second level. After being questioned, he will receive the same choice.”
Alicent scoffs.
“If I may ask something, princess?”
You look at the traitor's bastard Otto amused and say, “Speak freely, but nothing you say will change your fate.”
Understanding, he nods, “What is to become of Aegon’s heirs? They are—”
“Innocent,” you cut him off. “Princess Jaehaera and Prince Maelor will be treated as any other highborn child. You have my word; no harm will come to them.”
“The city belongs to Princess Rhaenyra for now.” Alicent’s voice is laced with venom. “But she will not hold it long. The rats play when the cat is gone, but my son Aemond will return with fire and blood.”
“Aemond is dead.” You study her expression, and she does not waver. The former queen doesn’t believe her son is dead. You walk down the steps until you are in front of her and crouch down. “The bruising on my neck is from his hands. He managed to sneak into Dragonstone and waited until I was alone in my bedchamber and tried to strangle me to death.”
Her eyes gloss over with tears.
“Prince Jacaerys put an end to the assassination attempt.” You stand up straight again and smooth out the creases in your dress while taking a couple of steps backwards. “The usurper's loyal hound, Ser Criston Cole was killed by dragonfire on the battlefield.”
She holds your gaze and grits her teeth. “Which dragon?”
“Vermax.”
“Bastards are monstrous by nature.”
“Another word about my husband, and I shall have your tongue cut from your mouth. The last time we saw each other, you mocked the deaths of Prince Lucerys and Prince Gaemon. You should be grateful I haven’t had your head placed on a fucking spike.”
Otto gives his daughter a stern look, telling her to be quiet.
“Death is an easy escape, Alicent. You can live the rest of your life knowing that your own ambition is the reason your children are dead. Send her to the silent sisters.”
When she’s escorted out of the throne room by Ser Erryk, you return your attention to the men remaining. “Otto Hightower, I sentence you to death for the crime of treason.”
Prince Daemon stands beside you, and you step to the side silently, giving him permission to go ahead and carry out the sentencing. The former hand of the king would always be a threat to your family. Daemon goes down the steps and, in one swing, slices Otto’s head off with dark sister. You hold back a shriek when blood begins to spread across the marble floor.
Your eyes narrow in on the last person kneeling. “Take Larys Strong to the black cells; keep him in chains until his sentence is carried out tomorrow in the dragon pit.”
“You did good,” Daemon praises as you leave the throne room. “Those green cun—”
He was cut off by the handmaiden you spoke with earlier, rushing over to you, her cheeks flushed red. “Princess,” she gasps. “My prince, my lady. Forgive the interruption, but the queen has asked for you to go to the council room immediately.”
You could sense the urgency from Mia without her outright saying how serious the situation was, “Thank you.”
You hold your dress at the front so you can run without tripping, and the three of you rush to the small council pivy. Soon as you enter the room, your eyes are glued to Jace, who is gripping onto the edge of the table, tears rolling down his cheeks. He looks enraged.
“My Prince,” you go to him, and his grip on the table is hard; his knuckles turn white while he grabs ahold of something tightly in the other. “Mother, your grace, what's going on?”
Your mother's chest and neck are blotchy from stress; she holds onto her necklace tightly for comfort. There are tears in her eyes as well. The queen struggles to control her emotions as she tries to speak.
“A raven arrived for me,” Jace’s voice cracks. “It was a massage from Aegon; it says ‘a daughter for a daughter, bastard’. He still thinks I took Aemma from him, and now he’s going to take Reni from me.”
You feel as if you’re going to be physically sick. “What?”
“This is Reni’s,” Jace says, opening up his hand, and you shudder at seeing your daughter's doll. “We need to go North immediately.”
When Jace goes to storm out of the room, you catch his arm, preventing him from leaving. “Jacaerys, wait!”
“We cannot wait; he’s going after our little girl.”
You take the doll from his trembling hand. “Rhaenys sobbed when she realized her favorite toy was left behind.” With her name sewn into the doll's dress, anyone could have easily guessed who it belonged to. “Her doll was in our bedchamber.”
“Which means…”
“Aegon is in Dragonstone.”
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venus-haze · 2 years ago
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Secret Identity!Homelander x Reader Headcanons
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Note: Gender neutral but mildly fem-coded reader, and no descriptors are used. This is inspired by the throwaway line from season 1 where Homelander mentions having a secret identity, but not keeping it for long, so I imagine it’d have been in the 2000s when he was in his 20s. My brain really latched onto the idea, and this is the result. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Warnings: Voyeurism, relationship under false pretenses, obsessive and disturbing behavior. Do not interact if you're under 18.
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• Your new neighbor moves into the apartment next door seemingly overnight, but luckily you have a box of brownie mix and some powdered sugar tucked away in your cupboard and decide to make some as a ‘welcome to the building’ gesture
• His name is John, and he apologizes in advance if he wakes you up with his coming and going since he works odd, inconsistent hours as a crime reporter for a small, independent newspaper
• You notice the Indiana University logo embroidered on his sweatshirt and cheerfully say, “Hey, you’re a Hoosier! I’m sure you’re already working on your March Madness bracket.” He nods along as if he understands what the fuck you’re talking about. The two of you continue small talk until you make your leave back to your place. He goes to his computer, groaning at his choice of Indiana as his home state when he doesn’t know anything about basketball, let alone March Madness and brackets
• Over the next week or so, he realizes just how unprepared he is for living on his own, but luck’s on his side, because he hardly has to worry about doing much cooking or cleaning himself when you’re constantly inviting him over for dinner and offering to bring his clothes over to the laundromat with yours since you “know he’s so busy with work”
• Sometimes he has trouble keeping his backstory straight, though he is at least able to bullshit his way through your questions about college and basketball. That doesn’t faze you at first, as he keeps you enraptured with his inside scoop on crime in the city. You’re none the wiser as to how he knows the intimate details of some of the cases, under the impression that he’s just a great reporter
• He keeps tabs on you from afar, Homelander doing quick fly-bys of the area where you work just to make sure everything’s okay. He was raised to be a hero, after all. When you’re alone in your apartment, however, he has no shame in looking through your walls and listening in on what you’re up to. He knows everything about you, the type of music you listen to, the TV shows you watch, the food you go for when you wake up for a midnight snack, that you call your best friend every Thursday night at nine, no detail is too minute for him
• One evening, he decides to take a closer look at your place while you’re in the shower, until he looks through the bathroom wall and feels his mouth go dry at the sight of you. He slips his hand down his pants, and, well, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. It becomes a habit, his guilty pleasure of getting himself off whenever you’re naked in your apartment
• To you, though, he’s still your hot neighbor-friend John, who your coworkers have been pestering you to make a move on, telling you that it sounds like he’s straight from a Hallmark movie. You’re reluctant, but you start to consider something with John when you mention wanting to get rid of some of your older, worn-out furniture and buy new stuff and lament having to pay a company to move. He volunteers to help you during the weekend
• It’s almost funny how he pretends to struggle to move the furniture when he could rearrange your entire apartment without breaking a sweat. He seems to be a good actor, though, because he notices your forehead creased with worry as you watch him move a couch himself. He likes your eyes on him for a change, and though he flexes his muscles every chance he gets, the concern awakens something in him. It’s nothing less than calculated when he “accidentally” drops the couch, pretending to hurt his arm in the process
• You’re frantic as you rush to his side to inspect the damage. Of course there’s no bruising, a truck would have to land on him for that to happen. Still, you gingerly touch his arm and he pretends to hiss in pain. You disappear into the kitchen, only to return with a bag of frozen vegetables in your hand and guilt etched across your features
• “John, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” you ask, brushing his hair from his face, and it takes everything in him not to lean into your touch as he assures you he’ll be fine. The furniture moving project is over for the night, and you order a pizza and let him pick a movie to watch. Your movie collection is almost foreign to him, having been raised on a carefully curated selection of propaganda and clean American classics. He picks Dirty Dancing on a whim, and it proves to be a good choice as you gush over how much you love the movie
• For the first time in his life, he indulges in greasy junk food and cheesy movies, feeling that pang in his heart again as he watches the romance unfold on screen, the one weakness he could never quite get over, loneliness. He notices how as the movie progresses, you end up curled up against him. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering to himself if it’s actually a date all along, and from the way you keep glancing at his lips, only to bashfully look away when he catches you staring confirms that
• He can hear your erratic heartbeat and decides to just go for it, stealing a kiss from you in the middle of the movie. From then on, you’re dating, and suddenly this persona of his becomes far more complicated than he anticipated. You make him happier than he’s ever been in his life. He wants to keep you incredibly close, both of your respective free time consumed by each other, even while he’s Homelander, unbeknownst to you
• John may as well be your dream boyfriend in the beginning of your relationship, attentive and romantic, bringing you to a nearby park on your first official date for a picnic and to try the famous Dirty Dancing lift scene. “Let’s at least try!” he insists. “I’ll catch you.” Despite your hesitations since he’d hurt his arm moving your furniture just a few days ago, he catches you with an almost unbelievable ease on the first try, to your delight. “I’ve always wanted to do that!” you laugh as he sets you down, pulling him in for a kiss
• He buys you elaborate floral bouquets and increasingly expensive gifts, to the point where you wonder how the hell he has that kind of money as a reporter unless he gets paid off by the same criminals he’s supposed to be reporting on. Sometimes he’s troublingly jealous or says things that unsettle you, but you assume it’s because of the line of work he’s in, being exposed to the worst of people. Besides, whenever you get even the slightest bit nervous by his words or actions, he seems to know just when to swoop in and calm you down
• Definitely has no concept of personal space or normal sleep schedules. You’re the first non-Vought affiliated person he’s ever had any kind of relationship with. It’s intense and things move pretty fast, like "I love you on the third date" fast. He idealizes you a lot. Emotionally you’re stretched thin by having to fill the role of lover, parent, best friend, confidant silly rabbit
• Date nights at your place are comforting and domestic, but going out is always an adventure with him. His lack of knowledge of generally getting around New York is downright strange since he reports on crimes all over the city. Not to mention, people do double-takes when they see him, as if they recognize him from somewhere but then figure otherwise. It happens way too often to be a coincidence, though
• Sex with John can also be unpredictable, passionate and loving to intense and almost painful. He’s into some weird stuff and doesn’t have the best etiquette when it comes to his kinks. Not to mention his stamina is almost inhuman, and when you comment as much after he fucks you the fourth time in under two hours, his response is strange, to say the least. You chalk it up to years of sexual repression that he maybe didn't get out during his college years
• Still, he supports and adores you, so you can deal with the frustration and emotional exhaustion when he knocks on your door at eleven at night, letting out a dramatic sigh as he flops on your couch and you take the cue to ask him how his day was. You know there’s something he’s keeping from you, but you decide not to push it. He’s just as interested in your everyday life, hell, he wants you to bother him with the mundane stuff. That’s what boyfriends are for, anyway. You have no idea of what his true identity is, yet you still love him 
• It can’t last forever, though, because you work late one evening, so he decides to check up on you, just to be safe. The scene he descends on is almost too perfect, the type of scenario he’d seen played out in the Vought-branded Payback cartoons he watched growing up. Still, seeing the man so much as pointing the knife in your direction as he demands you hand over your money and valuables almost makes Homelander lose control
• He lands in between you and the man, who takes a nervous step back. “Not so brave now, huh, buddy?” Homelander scoffs, grabbing the man’s wrist and snapping it, the knife falling to the ground as he screams in pain, clutching his broken wrist
• The situation becomes even more nightmarish as you watch America’s fresh-faced hero push your attempted assailant onto his knees, a cruel gleam in his eyes and sneer on his lips as he grabs the man’s head and twists. You can’t bare to watch, gagging when you hear a distinct snap followed by the crunching of bones
• Homelander turns to you, taking you into his arms for what’s supposed to be a comforting embrace, “It’s alright now. You’re safe with me, babe” 
• Your brain pretty much short circuits as you realize your boyfriend John is actually the most powerful superhero who ever lived, and you just witnessed him break a man’s neck like it was a toothpick
• Naturally, you pass out, right into his blood-covered hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead and takes off for Vought Tower. No need to pretend anymore, right?
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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 7 months ago
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What WOULD'VE happen if its the jofoes who saw a kid up skirting reader aka their darling?
I know they're villains and is very much cruel, but they wouldn't kill a child...right? (1-8, since the jofoes in P-9 haven't been revealed yet.)
Hmmm I could see a couple of instances of that happening, sadly (but I mean they are villains, but some are more restrained than others, perhaps more for image than anything)
Yandere! Part 1 (Pre Vampire) Dio - I could see this going with him yanking the brats hair and shoving them to the ground. It’s fairly easy for him to maintain his positive status to outsiders, so he could have something happen to them later (but I’d consider this the best outcome for that kid).
Yandere! Post Vampire Dio
Big chance this kid may die by being manipulated by Dio himself, he might decide to turn them/zombify them by apologizing and groveling (chance they could attack their own family). There’s also a chance the kid could just flat out be devoured by the other zombies, the blond wouldn’t even flinch at that. If he’s sorely out of patience he might kill/maim them himself, but it never would come to that. Keep in mind Dio was the type to turn a mother into a vampire and she ended up eating her own child.
Yandere! Kars
Absolutely no cares given about slaughtering a child, not even joking here. He only cares about you, not some slimy brat that decided to pull some nonsense on you. He’d probably lick you clean of the blood afterwards as well. No matter how mad or upset you got, would not make him anymore remorseful for the dead body strewn on the ground.
Yandere! Part 3 DIO
You’d more than likely be held captive in the mansion he’s in, within Egypt so this happening is unlikely. But in the unlikely event something like this happens, he’ll state how brazenly stupid such a move was. Unless he can use the kid in someway, he really doesn’t care what happens to them. So he might “punish” the kid as he sees it fit or have a stand user take care of them.
Yandere! Yoshikage Kira
As long as this kid didn’t see his rather “unusual” indulgences in the past, he doesn’t see a need to murder them right there, though I could see him consider it internally, where the kid wouldn’t be seen. He’s absolutely miffed however, and does grab their hand in a painful way though. Gives them the nastiest glare and reprimand there is, and the kid probably runs off heavily unsettled.
Yandere! Diavolo
Doppio is likely the one to take care of this of course, not that Diavolo he himself isn’t miffed. This probably just makes him consider to keep you locked away somewhere permanently. (This probably happens shortly after this little thing). Doppio makes sure to get it through this kids head, with the harshest grip known to man, that you don’t go doing that to anyone. Let alone anyone he or his boss likes.
Yandere! Enrico Pucci
His reaction is interesting, he is irritated perhaps even a bit visibly by this child’s behavior. He can’t let this kid get away with deciding to upskirt his darling either. He also is a priest image wise, so he has that to consider when punishing this adolescent person. He still has a firm grip on them and decides to take them aside and talk. He’ll face away from you while doing so, and moments later the kid is suddenly apologizing. You can’t tell if Pucci has an uncanny knack for speaking with people or if it’s something else. (It’s likely both).
Yandere! Funny Valentine
He’ll stop this kid almost immediately and there’s a sound of a smack to the back of the head. A stern look and a small speech about respect, Funny Valentine somehow manages to make the kid shame with those words. He wouldn’t let the kid run either and would personally escort them back home to their parents. As busy as he is as a president something childish like that won’t be overlooked by him. There’s a brief dark look in his eye, he can pull the strings to make things happen, he just doesn’t feel the need to expend them here. He does ask you to follow him closer for now on, (maybe an extra guard but he finds it more efficient to be the one to protect you)
Yandere! Toru
He certainly doesn’t appreciate it, and somehow they end up tripping or have some little mishap happen. Yet there’s a bit of a hum in his voice when he tells them he shouldn’t be doing such a thing to people. Any anger or frustration that gets thrown off at Toru, he nonchalantly brushes off. Suggesting the kid apologize, and nothing more will come of it. But there is a stern veiled threat in there somewhere that makes the kid decide to walk off.
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pastafossa · 3 months ago
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"Don't Let Go" (Michael Kinsella x F!Reader, Fic)
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Time for Day Six of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! I chose the angst prompt, "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." with Michael Kinsella! I originally planned to use all three prompts (the above plus 'love bites' and 'spread your legs for me') but this one just sorta worked beautifully focusing on the angst prompt alone, despite my plan. May come back and do a sequel with the other two prompts eventually. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!
Ship: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader
Wordcount: 1.1k
Warnings for this chapter: angst, blood, injury care, mention of reader briefly held hostage, language, mention of domestic violence, some shouting and breaking things (Michael is very angry here, just not at you).
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His hands shaking, Michael cleaned you up in the bathroom.
You weren’t sure if that tremor was due to fear, or… or exhaustion, maybe. He probably hadn’t gotten much sleep the past two nights while you’d been missing, held captive in an abandoned building by a group of men who’d been looking to blackmail the Kinsella family. It hadn’t worked out well for them based on the dead bodies you’d seen when Michael had grimly carried you out past his brothers, his hands stained heavily with blood and smelling of fresh gunpowder. 
It was those hands—the very same hands that had so recently dealt out death and destruction—that now tended gently to your wounds. With barely a word save a soothing murmur whenever you winced, he washed away the crusted grime and dried blood from your body in the shower before settling you down on the side of the porcelain tub. Once you were comfortable, he set about cleaning out and bandaging the bloody cuts on your hands and face, the torn skin on your wrists left by the handcuffs, and the burns along your forearm from the cigarettes one man had decided to put out against your skin when you’d spat in his face.
With every injury Michael cared for, however, the more his hands shook, his breathing growing sharper, hissing out from between his clenched teeth. 
No. This wasn’t fear or exhaustion making his hands shake, you realized. This was… 
He rose from where he’d been kneeling in front of you. He stared down at you for a moment with those dark eyes of his, taking all of you in for the first time since bringing you back home—taking in every last swollen bruise and vicious cut, every bandage and mark of pain left behind by those who had wanted to harm his family by using you against him.
…This was rage.
He snatched up the first aid kit, turned, and hurled it with a furious scream. It shattered against the wall in the hall, its impact leaving a crumbling hole in the drywall. Gauze and ointment, bottles of pills and splinters of plastic scattered left and right.
“Michael,” you said weakly. “I’m ok now.”
It was as if he hadn’t even heard you. “I’m goin’ ta find the rest of ‘em and kill 'em for this!” he snarled savagely, his accent even thicker in his fury. Gone was the gentle lilt, the familiar softness he always seemed to gain in his voice when he spoke to you or about you. Now he was every inch the dangerous Kinsella that so many feared, though not you. Never you. Even now you weren’t afraid, despite the way he whirled and paced wildly in front of you, as if looking for the very same ones who’d so recently hurt you. This was rage in your defense, and that made all the difference. 
“Michael—”
“They think I can’t find ‘em?” he spat. “They really think I can’t? I’ll hunt down every last fuckin’ one’a them filthy little cunts fer puttin’ their hands on ya! By the time I’m done wit’ em, there won’t be enough’a their fuckin’ bodies left for their mams to bloody bury!”
This time it was the drinking glass on the counter that paid the price. It flew out into the hall to shatter violently against the wall just beside the mark left by the first aid kit. Glittering shards of glass, some pieces still damp, joined the rest of the debris on the floor.  
“Michael.” You heaved yourself upright on shaky legs, wobbly as a newborn fawn. And it hurt, it hurt to move, cuts tugging, body aching. You tried to blink the dampness away in your eyes, not now, come on. “It’s alright—” “Don’t tell me it’s alright when they hurt ya!” he roared. But the moment he swung back around to face you and saw you on your feet, he spat out a curse. He stormed across the bathroom before you could take more than a step. “Daft woman, sit your arse back down before ya fall over!”
One hand still braced against the wall, you lifted your other arm quickly towards him. He lurched to a stop before he could touch you, an expression of horror twisting across his face, all furrowed brow and parted lips. Only then did you realize what that must have looked like to him—your arm held up to fend him off, trying to stop him from coming towards you, tears in your eyes as if you were… as if you were terrified of him and what he had been doing. 
Gone in a breath was the rage, the fury, replaced by a gutted, heartbroken grief. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have said he was about to cry, too. “Ya didn’t think I was goin’ to…” he whispered, swallowing hard and taking a cautious step back. “I… I swear, pet, I would never—” 
“God, no, Mikey. I know you weren’t going to hit me,” you croaked, trying to put your arm out again in a more welcoming way, and if your breath started to hitch, tears now beginning to roll down your cheeks despite your best efforts, well, surely you were entitled to that, because it had been a horrible few days and the longer you stood here, the more you began to shiver and hurt. It had only been a few minutes since you’d been in his arms, but your body clearly wasn’t ready yet for even that much separation. Emotion welled up inside you like a dark wave, endless, bottomless. You were terrified you’d drown beneath it without him to help you keep your head above water. “I was trying to… could you come over here and… and hold me? I just need…”
He caught you just as the first choked sob tore its way out of your throat, the strength of the sound so violent, so raw it almost frightened you. One of his arms quickly wound around your waist, pulling you in against the comforting, familiar warmth and strength of his chest. His other hand rose to gently cradle the back of your head, bringing your head down so you could bury it against his neck. He rumbled low, soothing notes into your ear, tender words of comfort as you desperately tried to breathe in the scent of whiskey and leather, gun oil and rain between your heaving breaths and broken sobs.
“There ya go. Shh, I’ve got ya now, pet,” he whispered, laying his cheek against your hair. He shifted the two of you carefully across the floor until he could ease himself down on top of the toilet seat, pulling you slowly into his lap. You went without a fight, clinging to him, the fabric of his shirt held tight between your fists as if it were your lifeline. “I’ve got ya now. Let it all out. I’m here, darlin’. Yer safe with me.” 
“Don’t let go,” you choked out, “Please.” “Never. I promise.”
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minasattic · 10 months ago
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“no matter what.”
im nayeon x fem!twice 10th member reader; fluff
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warnings: a HINT of angst if you squint, talk of disbandment
w/c: 747
a/n: i don’t like this fic but i’ll post it anyways </3 NOT PROOFREAD !!!!
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it was saturday, and today was one of the days where all of the girls had an off day. they were rare, so most spent it with eachother, doing fun things around seoul, but a select few, including you, decided to stay at the dorm and rest.
you lounged on your bed, keen on spending your day off rotting in bed. you had scrolled through your phone for hours now, and honestly you were getting kind of bored. you were thinking of going to bother Mina, who had stayed behind, but figured she’d probably tell you to leave so that she could continue playing her game.
so instead, you kept scrolling, mindlessly wandering the internet. that’s until something caught your eye. It was an article on Jeongyeon’s interview with Bazzar earlier that week. You skimmed through the interview, curious to see what the older girl had said.
You stopped when you came across a question asking “Can you believe twice is in its 10th year?”
You felt your heart pang. No, you couldn’t believe that twice was in its tenth year. You couldn’t believe that you had spent ten years with these girls, who used to be strangers to you. it all felt so surreal.
you continued to read, wanting to know what Jeongyeon replied. You felt another pang in your heart reading what she answered. She replied, “How many more albums can we release as twice in the future? We can’t be active as twice forever. Of course, it would be nice if we could, but there will come a time when we each have to walk our own path. It’s not a given that we can prepare an album together like now.”
You set your phone down, getting lost in your thoughts. You hadn’t thought about what it would be like without twice. without your members. you’ve spent every waking hour with them since sixteen, and a world without them feels unreal. but Jeongyeons right, you can’t be twice forever. you’ll have to move on eventually.
just the thought makes you tear up. and in seconds, you have tears running down your face, ugly crying. you grab the tissue box by your bed and try to clean your face up, but failing as the tears continue to stream down your face.
you hear a knock on your door, “y/n-ah, are you okay?” it’s nayeon. she must have heard your wailing.
you sniffle, using all your strength to muster up a reply. “y-yes, nayeon un-unnie” you said through sniffles.
“y/n, you’re clearly not. i’m coming in.” she opens the door, revealing you sitting in your bed, your face red, tissues spewed everywhere, and snot running down your nose. her eyes soften instantly. “oh baby…” she walks over to you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into her embrace. “what’s wrong?” she asks, stroking your hair.
“what are we going to do, unnie…” you mutter. nayeon pulls away, looking at you softly.
“what do you mean?” at that, you start spewing out words. you express how you’re not ready for the future. how you don’t want to grow up. how frightened you are at the fact that it’s already been ten years, when it seemed like only yesterday you all debuted. and how scared you are that you’re going to lose all of them. your best friends.
nayeon looks at you with a pout. she takes your face in her hands and wipes your tears. “it will be okay, y/n-ah.” she says, stroking your hair.
“unnie, i don’t kn-know what i’m going to do without you g-guys..” you say, sobbing.
nayeon sighs. of course she’s thought about disbandment. she wasn’t ready for it either; none of them were. so she tells you what she had been telling herself. “y/n, no matter what happens. no matter what path we choose to take. we are always going to be twice. a silly disbandment won’t break our friendship. we’ll always have eachothers backs, and support each other in whatever we decide to do.”
you nod, hugging her again. she lays down on your bed, putting your head on her chest. “go to sleep, y/n… you’ve had a long day..” you nod, wiping a stray tear.
the two of you sit in silence for a while, before you speak up. “i love you, unnie…” you say, hugging her tighter.
nayeon rubs your back with her hand. “i love you too, y/n.”
you fall asleep, with nayeons comforting embrace assuring you that no matter what life brings you, you’ll always be together.
you’ll always be twice
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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 8 months ago
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KINKTOBER (reuploaded)
Pegging (Matt)
Request: none but yall begged for me to bring it back lmao
Warnings: pegging obviously, sub!matt, best friends, bi reader, fingering(male), dual pleasure strap on, use of vibrator, slight edging, use of matty, mommy kink, whiny!matt, 0.2 seconds of matt sucking the strap, i think that’s all, lmk if i missed anything!
A/N: sorry this is a few days late, i’ve been super busy. tomorrow will be posted on time
Y/n’s pov
I was in the kitchen working on my MacBook when my best friend Matt came in and sat across from me. “Hey Matt.” I greeted him without looking up from my computer screen. “Um hi Y/n/n. Can I uh ask you like a really weird and personal question?” he asked. I was a bit confused but nonetheless nodded in agreement, “Sure I guess…” I said while clicking save and closed my laptop to give him my full attention. “I uh- I can’t ask you here, can we go to my room?” he stated nervously, only adding to my confusion.
We got into his room and Matt closed the door behind him, “So you know how you’re bi?” “Oh really, I am? I had no idea!” I replied sarcastically. “Not funny, but like you’re bi, obviously. I um, uh I-I know you have a strap-on…” he stuttered and trailed off. “If your question is why do I have it, I’m going to hit you for being dumb.” I joked, making Matt squirm uncomfortably, “Have you ever, you know, used it on a guy before?” he inquired nervously. “No… Why do you want to know about my sex life you weirdo?” I was suddenly getting a bit flustered because how the hell does Matt know I have a strap-on in the first place and why is he asking me about what I do with it?
“I- uh- I really like y-you and I have um- a fantasy involving you a-and I really want you to do it. Please don’t get mad.” he stated in a rushed tone, stuttering over a few words. I was beyond confused and a bit shocked, “That’s not how I expected this conversation to go. Um, okay, wow- what’s um… what’s this fantasy?” I asked curiously. Matt started to nervously pick at his nails and chew on his lip, avoiding eye contact with me as his cheeks turned pink. “Would you please dom me?” he asked, “And peg me…” he added, saying it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.
“What!? Matt are you sure? It’s probably gonna hurt, I’ve-I’ve never done that before. I’ve only ever used it to fuck a girls pussy.” I replied flustered and just as nervous as Matt. He finally looked at me with pleading eyes, “Please? I have lube and I’ve fingered myself before. I’ll be a good boy and listen, I promise!” he begged me. Looking at his face, I reluctantly agreed “I uh- okay, we can try it. I’m just scared I’m going to hurt you.” I told him softly. “You won’t hurt me, it’ll just be uncomfortable at first. I really want this, I’ve thought about it since we were 17. Can we do it tonight? Chris and Nick are going over to a friend’s house.” Matt said quickly, clearly excited that I agreed.
“Sure I guess, but I’m gonna want foreplay beforehand. And I’m probably gonna want to kiss you, like a lot.” I laughed as Matt’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink again. He started looking down again nervously “Can I kiss you right now?” he asked softly, instead of answering I just tilted his head up and captured his lips in a short but sweet kiss. “Mhm, thank you.” he blurted out after, as I got up and made my way to the door. I sent him a wink before going to my own room where I pulled out my strap-on, which happened to be one for dual pleasure, meaning there was a vibrating dildo that went into me as well.
Even though it had already been cleaned after the last time I used it, I decided to clean it again anyway. I also decided I needed to ask Matt another question so I texted him to come to my room. I laid out a few sets of lingerie, that basically cover nothing, on my bed, but I wanted Matt to pick one anyway. “Um what did you need my help with?” he asked as he stepped into my room, closing the door. “I want you to pick which one you want me to wear tonight.” I said while pulling him over to my bed to look at what I had picked out. I stopped when I noticed Matt kept trying to cover his crotch with his hands, instantly knowing he was hard. “Are you hard right now Matty?” I teased, causing him to blush deeply.
“Only a little bit. I didn’t touch myself, I promise! I-I do have a vibrator in m-my ass though but it’s not on. I just wanted to edge myself so I could cum more later, ‘m sorry I didn’t a-ask.” he stuttered out, extremely flustered. “Do you have the remote?” I questioned as he was eyeing this one black set, which was mostly just straps. “Yes, and I want this one it’s really sexy.” he blurted out before blushing heavily. The one he picked out was a black leather bra and panties set with a grater belt, the bra was basically just an outline of one as it had nothing covering my tits. It did hold my them up nicely though, just like the panties, which were crotchless, and the garter made my ass look good.
“Can I have control of the vibrator until tonight? You think you can handle that without cumming?” I inquired, wanting to know how far I could take things with him. Matt dug into his pocket before pulling out the remote and handed it to me with an embarrassed smile. “I think I can as long as it’s not on 24/7.” he told me as he grabbed my hand and started nervously playing with the few rings I had on my fingers. “Can I ask you a serious question?” I asked Matt, resulting in him nodding. “I’m not judging you, I just want to know, but you don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable. Why do you want to be pegged so badly and like having things up your ass? I don’t care if you are, but are you like gay or bi?” I questioned, causing him to drop my hand.
Matt’s face turned a bright red and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before speaking. “N-No, I’m not gay or bi, I don’t find men attractive. I was just young and experimenting one day and figured out how to stimulate my prostate. I wanna get pegged because I’ve seen it on pornhub and it looks really hot.” he said softly. “Plus you’re someone I trust and if I’m being honest, you’re really attractive and you domming me would be the hottest fucking thing in the world to me.” he added, blushing heavily. “Noted. Thanks Matty, that’s all I needed.” I smiled at him before Nick conveniently called for him. This was the perfect time to start teasing him with the vibrator.
After putting the other two lingerie sets away, I walked out to the kitchen, pretending to go back to working on my laptop. I watched as Matt sat down next to Nick on the couch, pulling the small remote out of my pocket I pressed the + button, turning it on to 1, making Matt’s breath hitch a little. He looked up at me with pleading eyes to stop as he was talking to Nick but I turned it up again to 3, making him squirm a bit. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” Nick asked, genuinely concerned.
Matt’s pov
I regret giving Y/n the remote to the vibrator now because I didn’t think she’d turn it on when I was talking to my fucking brother. I was fine when it was on level 1 but when she turned it up to 3 my brain went a bit foggy, I zoned out a little bit until Nick put his hand on my shoulder. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” he asked, I quickly came up with an excuse. “Yeah I’m fine, my head just hurts a bit.” I lied, looking at Y/n and silently asking her to turn it off, which luckily for me, she did. After talking to Nick, I walked over to her, “Please don’t turn it on when I’m talking to my brother!” I pleaded, but that just made her turn it up to 5 while smirking.
“But doesn’t it feel good Matty?” she asked, I let out a whimper and nodded before walking back to the living room. This went on for the next two hours or so until Nick and Chris left, my boxers were soaked with precum and my dick was so hard. I was laying on my bed and I swear I almost came in my pants when Y/n walked in. She was wearing the lingerie set I picked out along with the strap-on, which was black and matched the set perfectly. The strap-on was definitely smaller than my dick, maybe 5 or 6 inches max, but that was good because I don’t think I could take one that’s upwards of 7 inches.
I started squirming as Y/n stood above me, looking down at me and telling me to get undressed. She already had me take the vibrator out like 15 minutes ago, not that it really mattered. “You’re already being such a good boy for me Matty.” she praised, making me whine a bit as her eyes raked over my body. “I’m ready for you to dom me.” I confessed, causing her to stop staring at my body and smile at me. “Where’s your lube at?” she asked me but I just got it for her instead, “Thank you handsome, can you lay on the bed for me?” she asked sweetly, knowing I was a bit nervous to get pegged and have sex with her in general.
Y/n’s pov
I know Matt said he wanted me to dom him, but I could visibly tell he was anxious and nervous so I was trying to be as gentle as I could with him. “Matty, if it’s too much or it hurts too bad let me know and we’ll stop and cuddle okay?” I said while moving some hair out of his eyes. “I promise I’ll say something.” he replied, “What do you wanna start with first babe?” I asked him, wanting to do things his way. “I want to makeout with you.” he giggled, I hovered over Matt and we started kissing slowly at first, then we started full-on making out. I was sucking on Matt’s tongue and he was letting out the prettiest whiny moans as I ran my hands up and down his sides.
Experimentally, I started ghosting my hands across his nipples, loving the whimper it pulled from him. I pulled back for just a second, “Does that feel good baby?” I questioned while rubbing my thumbs over his nipples before rolling them between my thumb and index finger. “Yeah but please more!” he whined, not making too much sense, “Please what baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked as I kissed all over his chest. “Want you to just peg me already. I’m ready mommy.” Matt squirmed. His eyes opened widely when he realized what he just said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mea-“ he started before I cut him off with a kiss.
“Don’t be impatient baby, mommy will fuck you when she’s ready.” I said sternly as I moved towards his aching cock. I discreetly turned my vibrator onto 2, not high enough to make me cum but just enough to get me more wet. His cock was already covered and dripping with precum, “This really gets you worked up, doesn’t it?” I teased as I grabbed the lube. I squeezed some onto my fingers and circled his puckered hole before slowly slipping one in. “Two fingers please, I can take it.” he whined, I added a second finger and Matt was right, he could indeed take it.
I started scissoring his hole opened before adding some more lube and a third finger causing Matt to whimper. “Too much?” I asked, not wanting to hurt him, “N-No just so full.” he panted out in response. I fingered Matt for a few more minutes until he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. “I-I think I’m ready mommy.” he said, looking up at me with those innocent blue eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked as I pulled my fingers out, wiping the rest of the lube off on my thigh. “Really sure, can- can I get it wet with my mouth and control your vibrator, please?” Matt asked nervously.
I handed him the remote and stood up, Matt quickly turned my toy up to 5 which caused me to squirm before he got on his knees. “You look good on your knees baby.” I complimented, making him blush heavily. “How do I um you know, suck dick?” Matt asked, his last two words barely above a whisper. “Well I’m not going to feel anything so you can just do whatever.” I explained, Matt nodded and started to suck on it lightly for a minute as I looked down at him.
He whined and stopped sucking, “I can’t wait, just use lube because I need it now!” he complained, desperately trying not to touch himself. “Okay, get back on the bed for me then.” I said while stroking the side of his face. Once Matt got back on the bed, I put some lube around his hole and onto the strap. “It might hurt baby, so tell me if you need to stop.” “Okay Y/n, please I need you so bad!” he whined. I placed the tip at Matt’s entrance and slowly pushed it in about half way.
Matt let out a choked sob as his hands tightly clenched the sheets and his face held a look of discomfort. “It’s okay Matty, you’re okay.” I soothed him, “P-Put the rest in.” he whimpered. I pushed in the rest of the way before stilling my movements again, not wanting to go too fast. Matt being the sneaky little shit he is, decided to turn my vibrator up to 7, I let out a loud moan as he did so. “Please move.” he groaned quietly, I started pumping at a slow pace as he started to groan a bit.
Even though I was feeling so much pleasure from the vibrator and I wanted nothing more than to start pounding into Matt, I stopped myself because I didn’t want to hurt him. “F-Faster mommy!” he loudly whined, I sped up my movements just a little bit, loving Matt’s whimpers and moans, “Feel good baby?” I panted out. “More! Need more!” he cried out, grabbing onto my shoulders, “Want me to go faster or harder?” I asked, wanting to clarify what he wanted.
“Both, please! Feels so goo—“ he cut himself off with an extremely loud moan as I started fucking into him rougher. “RIGHT THERE! FUCK MOMMY, D-DO THAT AGAIN!” he begged, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed to arch his back more. Even with all the pleasure Matt was experiencing, he was still thinking about me, he turned up my vibrator to 10 which caused me to also join in on his loud moaning.
“Right here Matty? Is that where it feels good?” I asked breathlessly, “Yes! Yes! Please touch my cock, please! Please!” he needily moaned. I started rubbing his cock in rhythm with my thrust as we were both getting closer to the edge. “A-Are you close mommy?” “Very close baby, I just want you to cum first.” I told Matt, speeding up all my movements. “Choke me! Choke me tightly so I can please cum!” he whimpered.
I used my left hand to choke him and a couple seconds later, Matt was painting both our stomachs white with copious amounts of cum, cause me to cum as well and pulled out a him. “M-Matt, vibrator!” I cried for him to turn it off as I was getting overstimulated, “Sorry, sorry.” he apologized out of breath and turned it off my vibrator as I collapsed next to him on my back as we caught our breath.
I took off the strap and I was honestly just going to put it on the floor because I was too tired to clean it right now but Matt took it from me. He licked all my cum off the vibrating side before he put it on the floor and scooped his cum off of me. Matt stuck his fingers in his mouth to taste himself and moaned when I moved to lick the rest of his cum off his body. “You were such a good boy Matty, you did so well.” I praised him as I kissed his neck, sucking a minimal amount of hickies into the skin.
“Thank you Y/n/n, felt so good.” Matt blushed as I stood up to go take another shower “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up real quick.” I said while helping Matt up. I grabbed my clothes and strap-on as well as a pair of socks, boxers and a tshirt for Matt before we went to my room to take a quick shower. When we got out and got dressed we looked at the time to see Nick and Chris would be home soon. As to not be sus, we sat in the living to watch a movie and Matt was now extra clingy.
I’m not complaining, I think it’s cute, I enjoyed it. Matt had his head on my shoulder and I had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. I was playing with his hair when Nick and Chris walked back in and thankfully neither of them said anything. They probably just chalked it up to Matt feeling anxious about something and I comforted him. Both boys simply just plopped down on the couch to watch the movie with us until we all called it a night, Matt ended up sleeping in my room.
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yandere-sins · 1 year ago
Text
The Orcas' Tale - Lyr's Story I
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And here he is, our sweetest, craziest, loveliest boy ♥ Honestly, it was fun giving Lyr a bit more personality than he had in the original story, and I am also glad to have provided him with a cute little darling of his own. I hope you guys enjoy slipping into the role of a mermaid, and ehem look forward to a different kind of spice (;
Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con Kissing/Touching/Fingering, Bondage kind of), Violence (Threats to kill/harmm reader, Sharp teeth/claws, Almost tearing off reader's jaw), Monsters/Non-Human reader, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con, Feeding the reader seal meat, Being caught in a net, Long post
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"They just won't stop bugging! Like, I get it, Mom, bringing a human into the pod was stupid and dangerous, but it's not our fault that Nerrocan left!"
Heaving a deep sigh, Lyr looked up at the water's surface through the holes in the ceiling of the cove he had found. Light was shimmering into the mostly calm water, a few tiny fish slipping in and out of the cave-like structure while he rested on his back, ignoring any wildlife of the ocean as he had no interest in small fry. They didn't get close enough to be caught, wary of the superior predators of the sea, who, unbeknownst to anyone's eyes, looked more like friends hanging out than what they really were—captor and captive.
Despite his annoyance and loud complaining, he looked tired. You had witnessed many a mood of his ever since he decided to hide you away for his own enjoyment, but as of late, every time Lyr visited you, he looked more exhausted than the last. As usual, his eyes were dull, and his dorsal fin collapsed. For an orca in his best years, he looked like he'd been dragged through the blue hell, but it invoked no sympathy inside you. All you could do was listen and observe, but knowing he was the merman responsible for your misery, you felt no pity for your clearly mentally unstable captor. Reaching to his left, Lyr picked another piece of meat from the seal carcass he had hunted, slipping the food into his mouth before continuing his rant.
"Who'd have known that guy had it in him. Can't help but respect him getting the fuck out of the pod, and I'm glad I don't have to see his wannabe goody two-fin face anymore. It's been getting harder to put him in his place with how aggressive he suddenly got."
"Won't they miss him?"
Lyr stopped chewing, his head falling to the side, facing you. Muddy purple eyes sprang to life, reflecting the light as brilliant as rare corals. With one big gulp, he devoured what had been left of his meal, a toothy grin spreading over his lips. "Look who decided to talk! Who's gonna miss him? His mommy? Sure. It's not like she has a dozen more just like him."
For a moment, you held his stare, watched the grin stretch wider, and twisted his expression into a grimace before you lowered your eyes, settling on drawing swirls into the sand. It wasn't like you wanted to have a conversation with him, but listening day in and day out to his crazy rambles and complaints was just as bovine as engaging with the madman. 
"That's not very nice. I'm sure his mom loves them all equally. You've got a big family, after all."
"Nah," he retorted, shaking his head. Picking out a bone from the seal's body, he used it as a toothpick, cleaning out the sharp-edged teeth he loved flashing you. "Orcas aren't like yours. We don't love each other just because we share the same blood or come from the same mother. Either you're useful to the pod and do what you're told, or you're at the very bottom of the food chain. I could never be the same as Krill, no matter how hard I tried. He was always Mom's favorite, so now I just don't try anymore. It doesn't even matter to them where I am, but it suits me. Now I got a lot more time to spend with ya!"
Now it was your time to grimace while Lyr flopped onto his side and closer to you, surely noticing the tension growing in your body as you felt appalled by the ever-closing distance. He tossed the bone carelessly into the water while your movements abruptly stopped. You wished it was as easy as the flap of your fin to get away from him, but you were rendered helpless to his touch, unable to get away from his pointed finger dragging over your forearm, his claw teasing your softer skin. He didn't just have the advantage of size, but you knew that no matter how haggard he might appear, you'd be no match against him in a scuffle. Much less now that you were trapped.
And your growling stomach wasn't helping.
While you let out an exasperated groan, Lyr laughed loudly about your misery, finding your dependency on him to not starve hilarious. As much as you despised being at his mercy, you had no choice but to humor him if you wanted to survive, even when he enjoyed your reluctant behavior so much that he held his stomach aching from laughter. 
"You could have just told me you're hungry!" he teased, grinning from ear to ear at you while you gave him an ashamed glare, staying silent as a stone in your spot, belly-down in the sand. "I don't mind sharing, ya know? There's still so much of this yummy seal left, it would be a shame to give it to the fish. You know what you gotta do to earn it, right?"
Gritting your teeth, you watched the smugness wash over his expression as he sent you into yet another predicament. You even considered eating a heap of sand instead of bowing to his will. As if being trapped wasn't enough, he just had to exploit you at every chance he got, and you hated how easily your survival instinct made these reckless decisions for you, which he'd never let you live down. The hole in your stomach didn't get any smaller. Lyr's last visit had been a few days already, and you were in no condition to hunt efficiently for yourself. So aside from small, stupid fish that came too close to you, you hadn't eaten outside of his visits, and it was starting to show. 
You knew what you had to do. Unfortunately.
No matter how much your brain screamed at you not to, your body knew it instinctively, propping itself onto your forearms while you sighed inwardly, feeling defeated by your needs. Moving was the hardest part about being caught in a net. It was an unusual heavy net with clunky weights that had slung around your fin and lower body, dragging you to the ground where Lyr had found you. Even he had been surprised by the sturdiness of this net when he first inspected it but quickly had taken advantage of the situation, dragging you to this much more hidden place and out of plain sight so he had you all to himself. At least he didn't kill you; that's what you told yourself. But death was more merciful than Lyr, that much you knew by now. 
He had no problem being patient when it meant watching you struggle as you dragged yourself toward him. Lyr didn't even mind you digging your meager claws into his skin when you grabbed onto him, using his body to support yourself while you lifted off the ground, close enough to feel his watery breath ghost against your face. Placing your lips over his, you flinched away in reluctance before forcing yourself to keep going, counting to three this time before twisting your head to the side. 
Lyr hummed, sounding dissatisfied as you felt his hand brush up your spine. Nesting his palm at the nape of your neck, you refused to look forward again until he twisted his own head to find your lips, his much sharper, much more dangerous claws only curling into place the second he got what he wanted. Now, with an appreciative chortle, he relished in stealing another kiss, tongue swiping over your pursed lips until he found a hole in your defense, worming into your mouth. 
You were no stranger when it came to mating habits, but compared to your fellow dolphins, Lyr was surprisingly gentle. He relished in your defiance but seemed to enjoy enticing little moans and gasps from you just as much. His tongue was a choking hazard in a mouth that wasn't fit to house it. Though you had gills, you could barely concentrate on breathing while you fought against him as best as you could. Still, he took his sweet time exploring every inch, letting air flow out of his mouth and into yours, never not considering you while doing what he wanted. He even softened his hold on you, rubbing his palms down your back in a spine-tingling motion when you stopped struggling against him. It was almost like he was rewarding you for good behavior, and it was sickeningly pleasurable.
But the taste of flesh and blood lingering on his tongue made your stomach growl, your body eagerly moving towards him, hoping to find food. All you gained was a chuckle before he nicked your lower lip with his sharp teeth in warning. Your fangs probably wouldn't be able to bite through his thick tongue, but despite this weird obsession he had with you, he was almost more wary of you than you of him. It seemed like he could never cut himself loose completely despite having nothing to fear from an easy target like you. He seemed so relaxed and unbothered whenever he visited you, but it was almost as if he was plagued by invisible ghosts whispering into his ears. 
Despite his warning, you found his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you on top of him before you two rolled over to the other side, Lyr resting you gently down in the sand. He didn't care that the net that had trapped you to the ocean floor also got dragged over his tail, unbothered by possibly getting stuck like you were. Perhaps he simply didn't mind that thought as much as you did. To be fair, considering he was much stronger and the material had yet to wrap around and get stuck on his fins like it had with yours, it posed no threat to the orca. And yet, it was infuriating to you, who wanted nothing more than to swim away and reunite with your own kind. 
Propping his arm in the sand next to your head, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile and a mischievous spark in his eyes but reached over you, grabbing a piece of seal meat. He brought it up to your lips, dabbing it against them, though you refused to open for him. "I can feed myself just fine," you reminded him, wiggling your hands in the air to demonstrate your ability to hold things before trying to take the food from him.
"Now, don't be ungrateful, or I'll bring you a turtle shell to gnaw on next time."
You could feel your face contort in disgust at his suggestion, reluctantly parting your lips to nib at the food dangling in front of your face. Once you had a taste of meat, your body couldn't resist, gobbling up every last bite hungrily while Lyr kept providing it for you with a smile. If he wasn't fast enough, your teeth would drag over his fingers, but he wouldn't even flinch or scold you, his fin slapping against the sand instead, almost as if he enjoyed your nibbles. 
Seal wasn't your preferred food, but in times of food scarcity—like it has ever since getting holed up with Lyr—it was as good as any. The rest of the carcass was devoured faster than your excited stomach wanted, and you still didn't feel satisfied after eating every last piece. Had you been free, you'd have gone hunt for more without a moment of rest. But the gnawing hunger had subsided at least, and if Lyr came back again soon, you'd at least not have to endure it for too long until the next meal. 
Pausing your thoughts, you realized you had just longed for Lyr to provide for you again soon, immediately turning the hunger into nausea as you pondered on it. 
You were too quiet, too long for his taste as he sought out your lips again after your meal. Brushing his thumb over them, your instinct mistook his finger for more food. You could barely stop yourself from biting into his gnarly claw as the urge to eat won over again. However, your mouth was open long enough as realization dawned on you of what you were doing, for him to cup your face instead, turning it slightly to him so his tongue could lick over your lips and dip in again. Lyr hummed merrily as he tasted the seal on you, unashamed, unbothered by you struggling to keep him out, fingers wrapping around his throat—unsuccessful in deterring him. He was waiting for your breath to run out before taking the chance to deepen the kiss again, ever so patient with you. 
"I think I get it now," he mumbled, breaking the kiss before leaving some more superficial brushes of his lips against yours. "Nerrocan was onto something. We just didn't know it."
"Why didn't you go with him then?" you mumbled back, turning your face away to avoid any more unwanted affection, even if it meant resting it in his palm. 
To your surprise, Lyr scoffed loudly, and you flinched away as you could feel his mood shift. His palm didn't grow stiff and rigid. However, you still forced yourself away from it, too afraid he might—possibly on accident, but much more likely intentionally—rake his claws over your face, leaving wounds deep and painful. It was useless, however, as he used the same hand to collect your floating hair instead, forcing you to look at him while his gaze drilled into you with fury swirling in his eyes. 
"Listen, I might not remember how we got to that place, but I know all the shit they did to us!" 
You whimpered as he pulled your hair back, your neck struggling to keep up with his demands from your position. Lyr took a sharp breath, pausing the angry flashing of his fangs as he watched you cowering in front of him, ever so slightly calming down at the sight of fear flashing in your eyes. You hated him when he mocked you and also when he was delighted in your suffering. But you hated his anger more, his haggard body still crushing and his fangs and claws sharp despite whatever he went through. One bite into your throat, and you were a goner, especially with how exposed the soft flesh was to him now.
"I'll never go back there! Never! They cut us open, prod inside us with their disgusting hands, and inject strange fluids into me! They… They changed us. Changed me. And now I don't even know–"
His hand was trembling in your hair as he let out a shuddering breath. You caught his eyes for only a split second, watching the brilliant purple turn into mushy darkness. Lyr shook his head as if confused while his voice trailed off, his free hand rising as he hid his face from you for a moment. You weren't sure if you were supposed to say anything, and even if, what could you say to that? You had no idea what he's been through, and even though you had your fair share of struggles in your life, you never experienced something quite as dramatic as he described. Then again, why would you try to comfort him? Lyr was perfectly able to help you in your time of need but had refused cutting the net for you again and again. Why would you give him kindness if he refused to do the same for you?
Being free of his attention, your eyes fell lower on his body. Just shy of where your tail rested over his. With his tail flipped over, you had a clear view of his collapsed dorsal fin, a pitiful sight for any creature like you. It made you think that something was wrong with him in the first place, as this was an unusual sight on any of your kinds. If what he said was true, maybe this experience had done this to him, understandably so, as it sounded awful. You couldn't bring yourself not to pity him despite your negative feelings towards him. 
Next to you, Lyr took a deep breath, pushing his short hair out of his face before he searched for your gaze. Desperately. Needy. Somewhere to ground him. You weren't sure what you saw in the darkened violet, but his features looked drained of vitality, as if the moment of silence had exhausted him completely. It made him look… vulnerable. But then he smiled again, his eyes lit up, and the strange feelings swirling in his irises were covered by excitement as he found yours, soaking in the sight before him.
"I really do get it now," he admitted, grin parting his lips, revealing his protruding upper left fang, the sharpest of them all. "I was so confused about the strange looks Nerrocan gave the human, but I realize I've been the same with ya—whatever it means. I keep coming back here just to see you. I want to stay right here with you, forever. Just us two. I'll hunt for us and make this cave pretty. Whatcha think, lil' dolphin?" 
"N-No, I don't think that will work," you mumbled, averting your eyes again as his gaze became too intense to keep up the eye contact. He seemed to drill into you as if to excavate your soul and lay it bare for him to tease and enjoy. You didn't like it one bit when he looked at you so intensely. 
You could tell by now that he was working himself into another ramble, but you didn't like how much it focused around you. Usually, he was complaining about his situation in his pod and how much his mom hounded him with expectations. Lately, his rants focused more on the human and Nerrocan and the waves their arrival and disappearance caused in their family. But while he was always strange when it came to you, being the sole focus of his attention felt uncomfortable. 
"I'm not sure I understand, but my pod is probably searching for me, and I've been away for so long already. They probably miss me terribly! If- If only I could get the net off, I wouldn't have to bother you at all! I'd be gone before you know it, and you wouldn't have to look after me! I'd be fine! Maybe you can try cutting it again with your claws, or… or maybe--"
Lifting your torso from the ground, you grabbed the net at its highest point, tugging at it and trying to loosen it up. You realized it was you who was rambling this time, but the conversation had taken a turn that you didn't want to make reality at all cost. You couldn't imagine yourself being this guy's pretty little cave warmer for all eternity, preferring the roughness of your own kind over his madness. Orcas weren't known to be gentle housemakers, no matter how much Lyr tried to sell it to you. Not even when he handled you gently, yet never did what you wanted. 
However, you were surprised when he reached down to the net, yanking at it with you. A yelp escaped you as he pulled your tail over his, the net cutting into your flesh painfully as he twisted and pulled until you had to fold up your tail, getting more and more caught. Nets usually weren't as much of a problem to sirens, but this one was sturdier and heavier than any fishing net you had encountered in your long life. 
So when Lyr caught your hands in it, you began to panic. 
"Wait! I'm getting wrapped up in it! Please stop, this isn't helping!" Your plea was ignored as Lyr slung the grating material over your wrists a few more times, ignoring your thrashing and panic with the calm of someone who had all the time in the world. Who had nothing to fear, especially not you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to make him understand you wanted to get out of the net and not strung up in it more until he was done messing with you, flipping you over and pulling you close against him.
"That's not what I meant," you sobbed as he rested his head on top of yours, only cushioned by the arm he lent you as a headrest. 
"Isn't this so much better?" he asked, feigning innocence. But you couldn't believe his audacity to make you even more miserable. It was as if he wanted to make you as miserable as he was. "This way, you can't leave without my help. And I doubt your little pod will find you here."
"I just want to go home," you mumbled, anger slowly overtaking as the panic subsided. Your hands were bound tightly, your fin being the one hurting when you tried to lift them and vice versa. You felt truly trapped, and that made you angry rather than sad. It was strange, considering how, just a few minutes ago, you had almost pitied this male, but now, all you felt was rage.
"It's your home, now. Our home. We'll live here, unbothered by others. Just the two of us."
"It's not my home! Let me go!" you snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl. Dolphins were by far not the scariest predators, but your teeth were sharp and threatening as well! 
Or so you thought.
Lyr laughed at your display of a threat, seemingly amused that you were still fighting him. Without warning, he raised his hand to your face, squeezing both sides of your jaw until the pressure forced you to open it, and stuck his pointer and middle finger inside. He only needed these two to press your tongue down, your mouth wide agape with his claws scarily close to the back of your throat. You tried to close your jaw, bite down until he'd retract his hand, but Lyr didn't care. He didn't even mind your teeth digging into his flesh, leaving cute little cuts against his slick skin. 
"Careful, lil' dolphin. You're not in a position to make such scary demands of me, don't you know that already? I could kill ya." 
Unafraid of getting hurt, the pressure on your lower jaw increased, fingers purposely impaling themselves on your teeth while pain made you jolt as you felt your jaw dislodging slowly. You wiggled your trapped body, gurgling against his fingers before finally looking up at him as best as possible from your position, noticing the smug grin on his face. 
"I won't, of course."
Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, dragging out the motion until the last moment, you coughed, the taste of his blood on your tongue. There was no time to recover as Lyr nuzzled his face into the side of yours, oblivious to the thrumming in your jaw as you tried to relax it while the blood flow resumed. 
"You're too much fun alive, so I won't kill you," he admitted, grabbing your hands that rested against your chest and pulling them down, elevating some of the strain on your tail, and you finally breathed out. "But if you want to get rid of the net, maybe we can find a way to make this even more fun?"
You felt his lips sink to your cheek, your jawline, then trailing down your neck. A kiss for every one of your gills. The water around you was gentle and warm, but at that moment, it was like jumping into the ice-cold ocean after sunbathing on the surface, shocking and shivering through every bone of yours. 
While the arm your head rested on wrapped around your collarbones, holding on to your shoulder, the other hand started to wander lower. His fingers played around with the net, cutting through some of the squares until he could stick his hand through it, placing his palm on your stomach before sinking it dangerously low and pulling your hands down with it. So you wouldn't be able to grasp his arm on top, trying to make him stop as Lyr nibbled on your earlobe, the protruding fang drawing blood that he licked up without hesitation.
"Stop that!" you complained as his touch grew uncomfortably intimate, the pain in your jaw reverberating as you spoke. It had long dawned on you what his definition of 'fun' was, but you weren't as naive as to believe he'd actually stick to his word and cut you loose after getting what he wanted. It was better not to risk it than risk it for nothing. Your kind wasn't known to be gentle to their chosen lovers, but you never thought about mating with an orca. It wasn't normal! Wasn't what you were made to do! And if you were to survive it… you didn't want to think of the carnage that all of him would leave behind on your body. 
If his size was any indication, you were sure you couldn't take him without getting absolutely ruined in the process—and not the pleasurable kind of destroyed. More the ripped apart and bleeding out type. 
His hand found your slit, fingertip brushing lightly yet incessantly over it, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. You whimpered, ashamedly so, but instead of the expected mockery, you felt his chest rumble, a purr reaching your ears. It was soothing, relaxing, his body warming you from behind even as you desperately tried to deny feeling anything from his touch. 
But Lyr wasn't stingy with his surprises.
A chirp so oddly familiar resounded behind you, yet you were sure you had never heard that voice before. It took you a moment of complete stillness to realize it had been Lyr making that sound, yet it wasn't orca. It was dolphin. "How did you…?" you gasped, ignoring his inquisitive fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to be let in without having to use force.
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, lil' dolphin," he hummed, imitating some more whistles and clicks that were perfect and comforting, like the calls of your pod, yet were spoken by an uncanny voice. You felt the tears well up in our eyes again, as you couldn't help but gasp, following it with a moan, his finger slipping into you, teasing the soft, warm flesh awaiting him there. Lyr let out an appreciative sound that made your core clench with desire, all praise and all dolphin for letting him in. 
"You don't even like me," you gasped, hands wringing in the net. You were completely and utterly caught in this trap, and he had free range to your body while slowly gaining access to your very soul by imitating your own kind's calls of desire and adoration. Lyr's mouth pulled taut in a big grin as he felt you unwillingly relax and shudder in his arms, your tail buckling into his hand. You looked up to see the madness dance with satisfaction and need in his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you.
"That's where you're wrong, lil' dolphin," he chuckled, kissing you one more time, long and with relish, his fingers playing with you, adding one after the other as you loosened up to him, exploring the depths not meant for an orca.
"I like you very, very much."
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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Hi lovely, i hope youre having a good day.
Could i request a poly!maruaders (maybe +lily or bff lily) where reader is either muggleborn or a half-blood and does every day tasks normally (ie. redecorating, dying hair, climbimg to get something up high, looking for something theyve lost, painstakingly repairing something, trying to navigate in the dark). Maybe reader has convinced lily and Remus to help her spring clean and redecorate and they both just automatically go about it a muggle way. And when Sirius and James come to find them later theyre so confused because for them thats always been done with magic.
I have sent a very similar request to someome else before (think its been 2+ months) but i dont think they posted for it. Just in case they do i wanted to let you know. Also no pressure.
Regardless, i love you 🩶
Hi angel! I decided to do this with platonic (or, if you like, pre-relationship) marauders+Lily, and I know you said spring cleaning but my roomie and I just decorated for Halloween and I’ve got that on the brain so I’ve taken more than one liberty haha but I hope you like it <33 Love you too!!
platonic!marauders (+Lily) x reader ♡ 1.1k words
“Do you think this would look alright here?” you ask, stretching your arm as high as you can to pin the middle of the leafy garland to the wall. 
Lily hums contemplatively. “I don’t think that’s quite the middle. A bit to the left?”
You reach leftwards, tottering on your stepping stool, and Remus steadies you with his hands at your waist before you can fall. 
“Here, I’ve got it,” he offers, encouraging you to step down and taking your place. He makes the reach look easy (it’s hardly a reach for him, you suppose), taping the garland in place. “How’s that?” he asks, and you step back beside Lily, assessing. 
“It looks great,” you decide. “Thanks!” 
“‘Course, love.” He grins at you as he steps down, going back to dusting off your mantle. You’re immensely grateful for your friends’ help, the quiet between you companionable as you each work on your tasks, your Rumours record playing softly in the corner. You’d been a bit down about cleaning and decorating your first apartment all by yourself, and Lily had all but invited herself over, offering to keep you company. This morning, she’d shown up with Remus and a bucket full of cleaning supplies, and neither of them would hear your protests about not wanting them to labor for you. Remus had become immediately obsessed with all the dusty surfaces you’ve yet to clean since moving in a week ago, and Lily claims she’s going to make cookies after she’s finished cleaning the oven, so your apartment will smell cozy and homey. 
You’re not sure how you managed to snag such fantastic friends, but just as you’re about to tell them so for the upteenth time since they’ve arrived, your door creaks open. 
“You can’t just leave the front door unlocked,” James says, aghast. “You’re a young girl living on your own, shortcake. Exercise some caution.” 
Sirius breezes by James with a small box in his hands, and you accept the one-armed hug he offers you with faint confusion. Your friends are welcome anytime, but you hadn’t been expecting anyone other than Lily today and you worry the apartment is far from guest-ready. “I usually lock it,” you defend yourself. “It’s just that we’ve been in and out all morning. Anyway, who’s going to murder me with everyone here?” 
“Well, they won’t now that I’m here,” James allows, pecking you on the cheek amicably. “But if you were thinking Lily and Moony could defend you all by themselves, then I’m even more worried about you.” He receives matching exasperated glares from your friends, but ignores them, surveying the apartment. “This is a nice place you’ve got here.” 
“Thanks.” You beam, proud of your little apartment. It had been a bit run-down when you’d first moved in, but the morning’s efforts have really brightened the space. “Did you come by to see it? I’m not sure it’s quite ready for a tour yet, unless you’re alright with dust.”
“A lot,” Remus says wearily, “of dust.” 
“We thought we’d bring you a housewarming gift,” Sirius says, opening the lid of the box to reveal a cake. In cursive frosting, it reads Congratulations, graduate!, but someone’s struck through graduate and scrawled, in messy writing underneath, homeowner. 
You laugh. “Thanks, that’s so sweet! Um, you guys know I’m renting this place, right?”
“We know,” Sirius agrees. “But apparently they only do custom writing if you order, like, way in advance, and we didn’t have enough room to put congratulations on your first big girl apartment ourselves.” 
Remus snorts, but immediately begins sneezing after inhaling some dust from the mantle, and Lily comes over to admire the cake. “I think it’s lovely as it is,” she says, and you hastily agree. You love it, and you love them all the more for it, your sweetheart friends. “Still, Remus and I have been here all morning, so I think our housewarming gift is a bit better.” 
James laughs disbelievingly. “What’s your gift?”
“Cleaning and decorating,” Remus says, having recovered from his fit. “Bit more of a time commitment than a cake.” His voice takes on a slight haughtiness, and Lily smirks. 
“What, all day?” Sirius shakes his head. “That takes ten seconds.” 
“Not the muggle way,” Lily says. 
Sirius’ eyebrows shoot up, and James’ gaze sweeps over the room more intentionally, lingering on the unswept floor, the decorations still in their boxes. “Why in Merlin’s name would you do it the muggle way?” he sounds vaguely horrified. “We could charm this done right now.” 
Sirius nods, sliding his wand from his sleeve as if he intends to do just that, but you clamp a hand around his wrist. “That takes all the fun out of it!” 
“Dollface,” Sirius says slowly, looking at you like you’ve lost it, “how is laboring all morning to accomplish what could be done with a simple spell fun?”
You wave your hands about, gesturing vaguely to the room at large. “I don’t know, it’s about the simple things. You listen to music, and do things the slow way, and you get to choose where your stuff goes instead of letting the spell choose for you.” 
“And,” Lily adds, “it’s satisfying to know that you did it yourself. Like these cookies, which are going to be way better than if I charmed them to bake themselves.” She pauses, glancing at the cake. “By the way, you’re going to have a ton of sweets on your hands, Y/N.” 
“Oh, I was under no impression I’d be eating all this by myself,” you say, somewhat appalled. “Won’t you guys stay and help me with them? I can get us takeaway.” 
Sirius and James help with more than that. Neither of them will touch a broom (frankly, they have trouble wrapping their heads around the idea that some are used for more than flying), but they help you arrange your fake pumpkins on the newly dusted mantle, and bicker over whether they should charm your candles to float like in the great hall or leave them on the coffee table. 
By the time you make good on your offer of ordering takeaway, almost every crevice of your apartment has been cleaned, and it’s smelling like cookies and looking seasonally festive. Remus nips to the store to get a couple bottles of wine for you all, and you and James end up sitting on the floor to eat while Lily declares she’s taking you shopping for more chairs tomorrow. The cake is fantastic, but the company is better, and of all the things you’d wanted to decorate your first apartment with, you think you like filling it with your friends best. 
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