#him and his stupid daddy issues caused this

[im-some-lionheart]

really makes you think tho.. if at any other point in the show there was anything else inside of Dean's mind.. Not necessarily a creature or something even half as powerful as an archangel. But something (things, people, feelings) that he wanted to repress and control and keep from, say, "coming out"... He could've done it too, on nothing but sheer willpower. Easily. hmmm.

You ever just remember Dean kept an archangel trapped in his mind for months on nothing but sheer willpower?

[wraithsoutlaws]

been thinking about the neglected section of dagger's lore after he leaves the bakkers as a teen and winds up in a smuggler outfit and aaaa for so long i couldn't grasp details of it all but now its flooding in and its coming together :ratscream:

[1d1195]

Two Negatives

~9.8 k words

From me: I promise it’s not going to be about math that much. This is an academic rivals sort of thing. It’s going to have at least two follow ups but this is the whole story overall. I think there are parts of it that are kind of hand-wavy and whatnot. Not completely connected or explained.

Warnings: Maybe if you read this the right way you may notice that Harry's a little bit of a sugar-daddy. Low self-esteem, cheating, mentions of sex stuff.

Summary: Harry loves annoying the girl in his classes. She's an easy target. And more often than not, she teases him right back.

Which Harry is an absolute sucker for.

“Hey,” he hissed.

She ignored him. Instead, her gaze bounced back between the board where Professor Charles was writing on the whiteboard and the paper in front of her alongside her notebook, dated and titled ready to jot down any issues she had as they worked through the new material.

Something hit the back of her head. Nothing that hurt. But she felt it in her hair. Probably a gum wrapper. Or maybe the actual piece of gum. She wouldn’t have been surprised. She reached behind her head without looking, grateful it wasn’t a piece of gum, and she dropped the wrapper in her bag beside her to dispose of later.

He dropped his calculator off his desk (flung it was more accurate) so it landed right by her foot. She didn’t flinch as it clattered and ignored the curious peeks of others looking at her like she was the one causing the noise.

“Give me a pencil,” he was right next to her, grabbing his calculator.

“Go fuck yourself,” she whispered so quietly she wondered if Harry could even hear her.

“Please! I forgot!”

“You always forget,” she hissed back.

Professor Charles cleared his throat. She glared at her paper as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. How dare Harry embarrass her in front of her professor because he was too stupid to bring his own pencil again. She placed dots on her graph as her professor did, stabbing at her paper a little too hard. Pretending it was Harry’s Voo Doo doll. Just so it would stop. So he would stop. But no. He was still knelt beside her.

“Mr. Styles, is everything alright?” Professor Charles asked.

“Yup, just tying m’shoe,” he said and stood up with a grin. That grin probably got Harry out of a speeding ticket, especially if he was pulled over by a female officer. Probably got him out of homework when he was in school because he knew how to make anyone feel flattered and good about themselves.

That stupid, pretty smile of his with the most adorable dimples probably melted any woman that looked his way.

Professor Charles rolled his eyes as he turned back to the whiteboard. At the same time Harry plucked her pencil from her grip mid stroke of the number eight she was writing. Before she could protest or even fully grasp that her writing utensil was stolen, Harry was back in his seat... right behind her. She took a deep breath and tilted her head to the ceiling trying to keep herself calm so she wouldn’t scream at him in front of everyone. So, she wouldn’t look like a lunatic. Why did he have to sit behind her? She reached into her bag and pulled out her pencil case and continued writing as if Harry hadn’t interrupted her at all.

*

She didn’t have a class following her lecture so she would have a second to breathe and eat, which wasn’t the case most days. Fortunately, she was head tutor at the academic center in the library which wasn’t far from the dining hall. It was also pretty easy going at the center, so she could eat while working. But it was always nice to pretend and be a regular student and eat in the hall. She listened to music and read her book. The only hour she got to read much these days. After tutoring, she would be headed to one more class before she was back to work at the college bar in the center of town.

Her schedule was mapped out to the minute. Her days filled to the brim with school and work. Because she didn’t have a choice. It was the same way every penny of her budget was scheduled and allotted for other things as well. It didn’t leave time for friends.

“Hey gorgeous.”

Well, one friend.

He pecked her cheek before sitting across from her. “Class good?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, how was yours?”

He reached over the table, held her hand, and skimmed his thumb along her knuckles. It was sweet. If it wasn’t so forced. “Good,” he smiled.

Isaac was an extremely handsome guy. He was popular, smart, and funny. His family had big plans for him and that was why he was on this prestigious college campus.

“Hi Isaac,” a flirtatious call sounded from across the room. He turned to find the culprit but came up short.

“By the door,” she said. Isaac turned releasing her hand as he did and waved at the girl who dissolved into giggles. After greeting the masses, he turned his attention back to her. “Can I suggest something?”

“Of course you can, girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you really want to be with the kind of girl who will openly flirt with someone in a relationship?”

“I think everyone knows it’s a fake relationship.”

“Regardless,” she shrugged.

“Jealousy doesn’t become you, my love,” he winked. He grunted when she tossed one leg over the other beneath the table and perhaps overshot just a hair.

She met Isaac on the first day of college. She was bringing her own stuff into her dorm room alone. His parents caught sight of her. Recognized her as she looked like her mom’s twin from way back when they all roamed this campus themselves. But unlike them, she was there under very different circumstances. She greeted them politely, smiled, and chatted as she knew best.

But Isaac approached her later that evening. She was sweaty from unpacking all alone. Her saving grace was a dorm room to herself. Perhaps the only lucky thing about her freshman year. This place screamed money. Money that she didn’t have anymore.

Isaac screamed money. “I need your help.” So, Isaac made sure she didn’t die of hunger and didn’t become a complete social pariah. Made sure she was taken seriously because of course this campus was littered with people who didn’t believe smarts could come without money.

In return, she was to be a doting girlfriend. When his parents were around, she was to be a fixture on his arm. Would it last forever? Probably not. But at least she would be okay for four years. She was kind, lovely, the exact kind of girl they expected their son to find and help keep him stable to take over his father’s company.

The kind of girl that would let Isaac be with whoever. Of course they had their moments. Like the lunch breaks such as the current one. Making appearances so that if anyone asked it wouldn’t be unheard of that they were together.

But she was no stranger to the whispers. That poor girl has no idea her boyfriend is cheating on her.

Fortunately, she didn’t have time for a boyfriend. Especially not one like Isaac. So, if her fake boyfriend was cheating on her, then at least she didn’t have to deal with it. Each time his parents came to town it wrecked her schedule. Wreaked havoc on her study time. Her work time. After three years, it was starting to feel like more of a give and less of a take in comparison to him.

But Isaac was nice enough. He still thanked her profusely—especially when his parents were in town. He didn’t use a lot of tongue when he kissed her in effort to keep up appearances. Knowing where his tongue had been, she was grateful.

“I’m not jealous,” she told him. “I care about you enough that I don’t want your heart to get broken.”

“You know I don’t have one of those.” She rolled her eyes. “You know, I’d be happy to throw you a bone, my love,” he leaned toward her, his eyes flirty and his smile lascivious.

She snorted. “Not even if you boiled it in disinfectant.”

“Orgasms help with stress.”

“I’m not lacking in orgasms. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kinky, baby,” he winked. “You actually got me hard,” he told her. He wasn’t trying to sleep with her so much as he was willing to sleep with her. When they first arrived at college there were several firsts that both needed to accomplish and well, the fake dating wasn’t the only thing they were able to help each other out with. But after three years of rumors and knowing what Isaac was like outside their fake relationship, she was glad she got to him before all of the rumors swarmed around her.

“I have to go to work,” she told him getting up from the table.

Isaac really was a nice friend. Lovely even. But only if they were really alone. As time wore on, he got cocky and annoying—especially in public. It seemed like he was doing more of a favor for her than she was for him (even though she stopped asking him for things almost a month into their arrangement—shortly after she heard a rumor of a threesome).

But his parents loved her. They didn’t ask questions about his schooling or dating life because of her sweet nature. Originally, she felt guilty over their lie. But now, she was resenting that part of him more and more. He was a pretty good friend. But he was a dick of a boyfriend. “Are y’hungry, baby?” He asked.

She shook her head, cheeks blushing, and anger tingling in her blood. She hated the way he spoke to her in public; he sounded so condescending. Not at all like the kind and caring boyfriend he was supposed to pretend to be or even the kind and sweet friend he was behind closed doors. “Shut up, Isaac,” she sighed. His ego played a massive part in their friendship. He was rich and popular. She was not. “You sound like a douchebag.”

He pressed his lips to her ear, wrapped his arm around her waist. If she was looking in from the outside, she was sure it looked cute and romantic. “Mm,” he hummed ignoring her insult. “Can feed you something later,” he winked.

She knew people were watching so she smiled, leaned toward his ear. “If you’re going to feed me, I need a full meal.”

He chuckled, rolled his eyes and pecked her lips. “See you later, baby,” he kissed her softly again as he said it. “Gonna make sure you’re nice and full,” he promised loudly as he walked away. Not so loudly, that everyone would hear. But certainly loud enough for Harry Styles, who walked into the dining hall at that precise moment, to hear.

“Wow, bit extra for the dining hall,” Harry smirked. She glared at him, her cheeks warming.

“Don’t suppose you have my pencil?”

“Hmm,” he tapped his hands over his pockets. “Sorry Your Majesty,” he bowed in his over-the-top kind of way. “Clean out.” She rolled her eyes, grabbed her stuff, and made her way for the exit. Harry grabbed her hand at the last second pulling her back to look at him. “Y’okay?” He asked. “Y’look tired.”

She snatched her hand away. She was tired. But it didn’t feel good for it to be pointed out that she looked tired. “Thanks, I guess,” she rolled her eyes again. “I’m going to go now before you have a chance to insult me again.”

“Hey,” he frowned and called after her again as she continued walking away. “M’serious. Y’look like you��re getting sick.”

It was extremely unfair that Harry noticed that. “Are you concerned about me, Styles?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“Someone has t’remember t’bring me a pencil.”

“You could very much bring your own pencil.”

“Well, then I wouldn’t get t’have these lovely conversations every day, would I, Your Majesty?” She shook her head and ignored him as he continued speaking to her. “Hope he fucks y’good and full or whatever,” he called. She glared but refused to look back at him.

*

Harry appeared in one of her classes on the first day of her second year. A transfer from another school. His smile was panty-melting. Truly. Even she could recognize that. But regardless of how pretty he was, it was obvious how annoying he was going to be. He slid into the seat right behind her. “Hi,” he smiled. She ignored him, focusing on her professor starting class syllabus stuff. Besides, it seemed unlikely that someone like Harry was talking to her. “M’Harry,” he whispered.

She started scribbling on her notebook.

“He hasn’t even started yet,” he mumbled.

“Can I help you?” She turned around to look at him.

His smile was breathtaking. It really felt like he stole the breath from her lungs. “Sorry, Your Majesty. Didn’t mean t’interrupt y’doodle. Do y’have an extra pencil?” He asked.

She stared at the twenty-year-old man in his second year of college unprepared for his first day of classes. Perhaps if she rolled her eyes and ignored him, the trajectory of her life might have been something else entirely.

Instead, she handed her pencil to him.

“Thanks, Your Majesty.”

She rolled her eyes, anyway, facing forward.

*

In her Abstract Algebra class Harry was right behind her once more. “Psst.”

She ignored him. But his body was closer, his voice was closer. “Your Majesty,” he practically sang.

“What is your deal?” She hissed.

“I need a pencil.”

“Bring your own.”

“I like the one y’gave me. It wrote so smooth.”

She doesn’t know why she gave him a pencil.

But she really did know.

Harry was obviously handsome and from the way he chuckled under his breath over the lame jokes their professors made, he was quick and probably funny in his own way. But moreover, he had to be intelligent. Really intelligent to understand a pun about probability theory. The way others in the class fawned over him (guys and girls alike) it was apparent he was popular. Maybe popular like Isaac which made her dislike him just a bit.

It went that way every class. Harry was in four out of five of her classes both the fall and spring semester. Every class he needed a pencil. Each day he thanked her in his ridiculously attractive accent. Your Majesty.

What a dick.

But Harry talked to her. Even if it was just asking for a pencil. Or a picture of the notes he missed from when he went to the bathroom. He didn’t care that her family was broke. That she was broke. That she worked three jobs and hardly slept. He didn’t make her feel like she didn’t deserve to be on that campus.

“Did y’get the answer t’number nine?” It wasn’t a trick; he wanted her answer. Her opinion. “I got two different answers three different ways. There was no judgment that she couldn’t afford the extravagant lifestyle that her peers did. She had one winter coat. Not six to match her outfits. She didn’t have a car. She didn’t go out to eat and she made her own coffee except for on Saturdays when she splurged and treated herself to her favorite bagel and her favorite coffee.

Maybe it was because she saw him at a party. A girl at his side, smiling at him. Twirling her hair and touching his pretty chest. It was effortless. She didn’t have to try to flirt with Harry. It was a given. Rich, popular, perfectly pretty. The same as Harry.

Everything she wasn’t. Everything Harry would never want.

So she tended to Isaac. Kept to herself.

Gave Harry an absurd number of pencils.

Which continued into their third year. Where things got busier, harder, and more overwhelming.

But Harry was always right behind her. Asking for a pencil. Making her cranky.

But always making her feel normal when no one else did.

*

It was obvious Harry had money. The key on his ring had a symbol for a car that would never be in her price range. His clothes were pretty, the latest trends. Even his sweatpants looked like they were designer.

Maybe it could have been that way for her. Maybe if her dad hadn’t embezzled all their money. Hadn’t gone to jail and left her and her mother with anything more than a penny. Growing up she didn’t feel rich, but she never wanted. But right as she was applying to colleges, with only one college campus that made her heart happy, it was the first time in her life she thought about and hated money.

She imagined no one on campus ever felt that way.

But even if Harry had the nicest clothes and the nicest car, he never flaunted what he had. Not even to his friends. He didn’t show off or act like he had a ton of money. He was just there.

Which is why perhaps, when he annoyed her to pieces, she didn’t mind giving him a pencil in the end.

*

It was a bad day. She missed her mom. She was exhausted. Didn’t have time to make herself a coffee which just felt criminal. The test on her mind nearly brought her to tears as she sat down in her seat, seconds before her professor walked in.

Her pencil case was empty.

Part of her felt sad she wouldn’t have a pencil for Harry. Would he ask someone else? Would he stop asking her because of it? God, why did she even care? It was a blessing. He would stop asking her. She wouldn’t have to keep wasting money she didn’t have on pencils.

Plus, he wasn’t even there.

The test landed on her table. Her brain felt weary. Was she getting sick? Probably. Stress did a number on her immune system. It was a miracle she wasn’t sick all the time.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes she tried to calm her mind. It wasn’t the time to think about the reading she needed to complete, the shift she was covering at the academic center, or the dinner she was really looking forward to splurging on. It had been ages since she had chicken in her pasta dish.

“Hey,” how long were her eyes closed? How did she miss him coming to his seat.

“I don’t have a pencil, Harry,” she hissed back.

“Of course, y’do,” she could hear his eye roll.

“I don’t, I forgot my pencil case.”

He snorted. Her eyes flicked to Professor Charles who didn’t look up from his own paper at the front of the room. “C’mon, quit being a brat.”

“A brat?” She whispered.

“Quiet,” Professor Charles still didn’t look up.

“Sorry Your Majesty, jus’ give me a pencil and—”

“I don’t have one!” Her voice was quiet and maybe if she wasn’t only two rows from the front of the room, it wouldn’t have been a big deal when he pulled it out of her grip.

But she was towards the front.

Professor Charles stood beside their desks. “You’re both excused.”

Her face felt hot and pale at the same time. She felt like she was going to throw up. The feeling of eyes on her made her more embarrassed than the time she tripped and fell at her third-grade band concert. “Professor Charles,” she started.

“Enough,” he snagged her paper from her desk. Her throat felt tight, her eyes prickled, and she thought that maybe in a different life she could have been friends with Harry. Liked him, even.

But not then.

She bit on her lip to keep from crying as she packed her stuff into her bag and marched out of the room, head held high, and ignoring everyone’s stare. Especially the guy following her out of the classroom.

*

She slapped the door to the building as Harry continued following her. She was fuming. Practically steaming from his perspective. Yet he couldn’t help but think she looked absolutely adorable. “Quit fucking following me!” She snapped.

“My God, you’re so uptight,” he rolled his eyes.

“Harry Styles, you’re an absolute dick. Just leave me the fuck alone, for God’s sake.”

It garnered the attention of a few onlookers. But their path to the dining hall was quiet given it was the middle of class time. "Jesus Christ, do y’ever jus’ take a break? S’one fuckingtest, Your Majesty. For fuck’s sake. He’ll probably drop it. Quit being a baby."

A sniffle. One small, tiny noise.

"You don't get it do you?" She snapped. She didn’t want to. But she couldn’t hold it in anymore. It was too much. The final straw.

In the entire time Harry had known her he had never seen her this upset. Not like this. Not to the point where she was crying.

Because of him.

He made her cry.

"I have a squeaky-clean record. I have to be perfect all the time. I can't let one hair be out of place. I can't get one bad grade. If I do, then everyone around me makes comments and they assume it’s because I have no money. The poor girl can’t hack it here. It's this massive pressure on me all the time. I can't get caught doing normal party things. I can't get caught cheating on a test, Harry. I can’t. I lose my scholarship if I don't maintain my GPA. I can hardly afford to be here, Harry. I have to work three jobs. I have to budget every minute of my time as much as every dollar of my bank account. Do you know I haven't been home in three years? I miss my mom so much and I can’t even afford to go see her and I just pretend because—” she covered her mouth and Harry swallowed hard, willing himself to not cry as well. This wasn’t about him. This was all about her right now. “And now,” she croaked. “I’m going to have to skip dinner because I need to buy new pencils because I have been giving them to someone who’s too fucking inconsiderate to even fucking return them after annoying me for no better reason that for kicks.”

Her sniffles turned into sobs and Harry had never felt like more of an ass. He thought she was annoying at worst, but he never wanted her to cry.

Her crying, all her tears, they were all his fault.

"I study so hard. I have to. But I want to. I want to make enough money to support my mom, and I can’t do one thing wrong because if I do then I’ll lose everything. I have to study. I’m not like you, Harry. You just know everything and that's amazing, Harry, it really is,” and for the first time since he started interacting with her, Harry felt horrible for the way he had treated her. The compliment she gave was so thoughtful. The kindness in her voice was unmissable. He was practically shocked it even came from her mouth. “But not all of us are gifted with insane intelligence like you. Not all of us are God's gift to women and can go out and party and not be judged for kissing someone I like. Not all of us can afford to be here without help."

Harry kept his lip between his teeth to keep from speaking.

“I’ll get over it,” she sniffed. “Sorry for being so uptight.” She wiped her face and stalked off toward her dorm.

Harry had never felt worse about himself.

*

She wore her best interview dress. Her hair was pinned precisely so that the pieces that constantly flew away were at bay. She swallowed the rock that formed in her throat as she knocked on her professor's office door.

"Come in."

"Professor Charles," she was grateful he didn't look up because she was worried, she was going to curtsey or something equally ridiculous. "I wanted to apologize—"

"Your boyfriend already came to tell me he's at fault for the fiasco in class. He took full responsibility and said it was extremely unfair of me to refuse you the exam."

Her heart skipped a beat. "M-my boyfriend?" She whispered.

"Mr. Styles is very bold and I suppose I was a bit harsh. You are a brilliant young woman and role model to your peers," he praised. "Would you like to take the test now or schedule another time?" He asked looking up from his work.

She swallowed. "Um..."

"I would appreciate it, if you took it now. I need an answer key to grade the rest of them," his voice was steady, but she felt the compliment down to her bones. "I have a class in two hours, and I was hoping to check grading off my to-do list before it started," he explained.

She felt uneasy, overwhelmed, but not like she did when she sat down the first time to take the same exam. "I can do it now," she whispered and dropped her bag at her feet and situated herself at the table on the side of his office below the window. She got to work and completed the test as if all it asked was for her to write the alphabet down. She was checking over her work when she glanced out the window and saw the sprawling campus. There were people walking by at fast clips. Eager to get to the dining halls and rushing to make it to their classes on time.

But in the midst of all the people running by, there was Harry, sitting on a bench. His arm stretched across the back of it, while the other held his phone. He crossed his feet at his ankles and looked like a model for relaxation.

He took the complete blame for the test. She felt her heart aching and she stood from the table and went over to her professor's desk. "Is... Mr. Styles able to retake the exam as well?"

"I wasn't planning on it," he looked up at her. "Why?"

She bit her lip, looked at her feet. "I could have just given him a pencil."

"Mr. Styles should be prepared for his own education," he said knowingly. There was no way she was going to explain her relationship with Harry to her professor. Plus, she wasn't sure she'd be able to. She dropped her gaze and handed off her exam. "You can tell Mr. Styles he can come up and take the test," he said simply. "I have the answer key now."

She blinked.

"He'll probably ace it as well, but your handwriting is neater," he shrugged, tipped his glasses further down his nose and silently read her answers. She stood still, like she was waiting for the danger to pass. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?" He asked glancing back up. She shook her head, pinned to her spot. The strangeness of it all was overwhelming. "Men like Mr. Styles are going to have it a lot easier than you. The field you’ve selected is male-dominated and many will sell you short because of your gender," he said. "That doesn't mean you need to worry about your worth," he assured her. "You are a brilliant, hardworking, and talented individual. Mr. Styles should be bringing you pencils to class."

Her cheeks felt warm.

"Also, to be fair, it's nice to know you're not cheating off of each other because it was getting a little suspicious," he turned her exam back across his desk and wrote her score at the top of her page, upside down—98%. "Missed a negative."

"If Harry misses it, can you knock off more points?" She asked before she could stop herself then felt herself blush at how ready she was to throw him under the bus. She looked down shyly and covered her mouth before she looked up at him again.

Her strict professor made a face that resembled somewhat of a smile. "Of course."

“Thank you,” she hoped she sounded as gracious as she felt.

“Great work,” he nodded in response.

She headed out of the office and walked toward the bench. She sat beside him and faced forward. Harry put his phone back in his pocket and turned only his head toward her. "How'd y’do?" He asked.

"Ninety-eight."

He tutted. "Too bad," he smirked.

A smile twitched at her lips. She looked up at the sky briefly. "He said you can go on up and take it now," she told him.

He blinked. Surprise coloring his pretty features. Harry rarely seemed stunned, especially because of her. It was cute and also exciting that he was surprised by her. "What?"

She looked at her lap, trying to focus on her nails but not for too long because she was worried that she would gnaw on them if she let the nerves overtake her. "That was... the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me," she whispered. "Especially for Professor Charles' class," she continued. Taking a deep breath, she looked at him. "I was obnoxious. Bad day or whatever... it wasn't your fault and I’m sorry I made a big deal of it."

"I just wanted you to stop crying. You look ridiculous when you cry."

She smiled. A genuine one. Not a forced one that Harry had seen her give everyone under the sun. Not the one that she plastered on her face during presentations. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. “Y’had every right t’be mad at me. I was a complete dick.”

She shrugged. “I... I should have just given you a pencil... it turned out there was one at the bottom of my bag and... I kind of... like giving you a pencil. You just caught me at a really bad moment.”

“I know. M’sorry. I knew y’looked off.”

She tilted her head at him. “You knew I looked off?”

“M’pretty good at memorizing all your different looks,” he had a smile that made her melt. “Like right now, s’one of m’favorites. Y’look relaxed. It happens once, roughly, every three weeks, I think. Lasts maybe four minutes if m’lucky,” he winked. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. But Harry noticed how her cheeks turned red. It made him want to continue flirting with her. She was fun to flirt with. Her sarcastic comments were funny, even when directed at him, and it only amplified how smart he knew she was.

As much as Harry wanted to stay on that bench for as long as she did, he finally stood. Then rubbed the back of his head squinting at her, one eye closed. "Do you have a pencil?" He asked shyly.

She snorted, plucked hers from her pocket, and held it out to him. "I'd like it back," she reminded him. Even if he didn't, it was their thing now.

He rolled his eyes. "Wait here. It'll only take me half the time it took you." She rolled her eyes but pulled out a book from her bag and opened it to the page she was previously reading. "Hey kitten?" He asked. She didn't look up and Harry realized he never called her anything other than Your Majesty. He nudged her foot to make her look up. "Who did y’think I was talking to?" He chuckled.

"Who me?" She asked, but Harry noted the way her cheeks turned red. He rolled his eyes. "Sorry," she shook her head. "Did you need something else?"

His expression softened and he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," her voice was so gentle. "I'm sorry too."

"There's nothing y'need t'apologize for,” he shook his head quickly. “I was a complete ass," he admitted. She shrugged.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he said seriously. “Please don’t let anyone treat you that way.” She nodded silently. Knowing that she couldn’t promise that. Nor did she expect Harry to make her keep such a promise, but it made her heart squeeze with disappointment in herself. “Be right back,” he nudged her foot again as he headed back to the math building. She returned to her book and tried not to think about how Harry was probably right. This was the most relaxed she felt in months.

About forty minutes later Harry exited the building, walking at a leisurely pace. He sat on the bench once more. She didn't look up as he did but the butterflies in her stomach reminded her that he was there. Harry draped an arm across the back of the bench and then presented her pencil to her as if it were a bouquet of flowers. "How'd you do?" She asked gently.

He sighed, clucked his tongue. "Ninety-five,” she smiled but tried and failed to hide it from him. "I missed two negatives."

She giggled. "How embarrassing."

"How embarrassing," he mocked in a voice that was meant to sound like her. "You're so annoying. Do y’know he uses your work as the answer key?"

It had to be a record. The longest time they had been together without bickering. The number of times she smiled because of him.

The fastest someone had ever fallen for someone she was supposed to hate.

*

When Harry saw her boyfriend, he started looking for her. He was clearly busy with his friends and the women they were entertaining. But she wasn’t amongst them. He did a loop around the party. Looking for her even if he shouldn’t have. He stopped and chatted during his search so it wouldn’t be obvious. But even when he did stop and leaned against the wall, or grabbed another drink, he kept scanning for her.

When his loop came up empty of the pretty girl he liked to annoy, he wondered where she was and how he could ask without it being weird.

“Hey stranger,” Eleanor smiled and kissed his cheek. “Where’ve you been?”

Louis gave a polite wave to his best friend from across the way, a knowing smile on his lips, grateful that someone he trusted could keep an extra eye on his lady.

“Jus’ wandering around,” he mumbled.

Did he sound disappointed? He felt disappointed.

She stared at him and stood on her toes to reach his ear so she could speak to him directly over the loud music. “She’s not here.”

“What?” Harry pulled back like she slapped him. Was it that obvious? It couldn’t have been. He was just… wandering. Like a lost, lovesick puppy wondering where she was and hoping he would find her to make the weird feeling in his chest go away. Eleanor cocked an eyebrow at him. Silently telling him that hewas not fooling her. “Fuck,” he mumbled sipping his drink. It was pathetic and obvious.

“She doesn’t come to these things,” Eleanor shrugged.

“Why?”

She sighed, rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t want her here.”

Harry felt like the words Eleanor said were spoken in a language he didn’t know. “Who doesn’t want her here?”

“Her boyfriend.”

The grip on the bottle Harry was holding tightened. “Oh.”

“Go ahead. Ask.”

“Ask what?”

“Harry.” He closed his eyes and looked around to find him. It was like he already knew it was going to break him. He didn’t want El to continue even though he knew he needed to hear it. “What he told her to keep her away? She dotes on him too much. Worries too much about her reputation and everyone else’s. She doesn’t have fun. So, he doesn’t want her here. At these kinds of things.”

Honestly, a party didn’t seem like her vibe. She was more of a game night kind of girl. Someone you could take to a family cookout or a pool party with kids. But calling her not fun? Because frankly, Harry realized he hadn’t liked a single party he’d been to in months and it’s because her banter wasn’t there to keep him company.

“Oh,” he murmured. Trying to feign indifference.

“Don’t you want to ask what I think?” Harry didn’t look at his friend. His eyes finally landing on the man that didn’t deserve the sweet, intelligent, and beautiful girl he didn’t invite. He followed his path up the stairs to the second floor. Right as Eleanor told him the worst thing he had ever heard. “He hooks up with other girls and he has the common decency to do it behind her back,” she shrugged.

“What?!” He spit his eyes dropping to Eleanor again. How could she be so casual about this?

“She knows…or I would imagine she suspects,” she shrugged. “But she’s good for his family. They adore her. And he helps her reputation. She’s trying so hard to dig her family—”

It was like he knew. Everything. All of it made sense. Every tiny fiber of her being was made for someone else—whether it was her family who she adored and helped as much as possible, Isaac who didn’t deserve her at all, or even Harry, who honestly wasn’t sure he was much better than Isaac. “Does she know he sleeps with them?”

Eleanor looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t know if they sleep with him. I’m assuming. But I think it’s a pretty good assumption. He’s probably—”

Harry slammed his bottle on the ground shattering it and drawing the attention of those around him. He took the stairs two at a time and opened every door to every room—an unspoken party rule: never open a closed door.

He was breaking it.

A girl shrieked and he just knew he had found the right room. He didn’t pay any attention to her scrambling to cover up her naked chest and instead yanked him clean off the bed. “What the fuck!?” Harry shoved him back into the hall. He was only in his boxers. Piece of shit. Someone whistled and Harry shoved him harder as he tried to push him back and make his way for the bedroom again. “What the fuck, Styles?!”

“Call her,” he snarled. Shoving him against the wall again when he tried to continue escaping. “End it. Now.”

“What are you—”

“You’re going t’cheat on her?” Harry’s voice was venomous. “Her?” He repeated. Like that was really all he needed to say. Everyone was staring now. Harry kept going. “Call her and end it. Or I’m going over and telling her you’re done.”

The stupid prick tilted his head at Harry almost condescendingly. “Do you want her? She’s not like us.”

Harry didn’t like the way he said us. There wasn’t a single connection he wanted to be associated with in context of the vile piece of trash in front of him. Other than he managed to pick the sweetest girl he had ever met. But simultaneously, the very wrong girl to fuck with, because Harry also picked her. Unlike the moron in front of him, he was going to do everything he could to protect her and her heart.

“She’s doesn’t have money. She won’t understand—”

Harry punched him across the cheek before he could stop it and someone else watching groaned at the impact and Harry continued talking. “Tell her now.”

“Christ, Styles! What the fuck!” He rubbed his jaw.

“Tell her.”

“I’m not telling her shit. She knows she needs me more.” Harry jerked back like he had punched him back. “What? You don’t think she’d give up the reputation I have, do you?”

Harry watched him silently for only a moment longer. Without a word, he headed back into the bedroom grabbing the stray clothes. Before anyone could rationalize exactly what he was doing, he was sprinting down the steps and outside.

He threw them in the pool without thinking, ignoring the laughter and shouts from him as he hurried around the side of the house. He continued running and didn’t look back.

*

Harry was in her dorm. On her floor. Stopped in front of her door.

He knocked.

Repeatedly.

There was no answer, but he knew she was there.

So, he knocked again.

And again.

Eventually there was a click of her lock despite the fact it couldn’t be opened without her key card. Of course she was all about safety. Finally, he heard her voice starting to speak as she opened the door. “I’m off duty if you have an emergency, you’re supposed to see the RA on duty and—” The door was open and out of the way before she finished talking. Harry pressed himself inside. “Harry! What are you—”

“Tell me s’not true.”

“What’s not true?”

“Y’know he hooks up with other women?” He glared at her.

The color drained from her face.

Harry rubbed his hand across his face. “What is the matter with you?! Are you so desperate for a scrap of affection you’ll open yourself up t’diseases and shit because you—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed tears stinging her eyes instantly.

“—need him? You don’t need him. You’re a thousand times better than him. A million! Y’could have any guy y’want, and they would still want t’grovel at your feet. Why would y’pick the one Goddamn asshole who—”

“You don’t know shit. Harry Styles. Stop pretending like you know me because —”

“Then explain it t’me because I can’t think of one fucking reason someone as intelligent, kind, beautiful, and hilarious as you would—”

A weird noise left her throat. Almost a squeak. It was adorable. If Harry wasn’t so mad. He would have told her such. Would have reveled in it because she was so fucking sweet and cute. But instead, she asked the most heartbreaking question known to man.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Her question was so soft. So unbelievably shocked. Innocent. All the words left his head. It was too quiet. His shoulders were rising and falling too hard and too fast. “What?” He shook his head.

She looked at her feet. Harry scanned her. Her shirt was too big. It didn’t look like she was wearing pants. Maybe she wasn’t. Harry hoped she wasn’t. She only wore one sock. Like she lost the other in her sheets or maybe she only purposefully put one on because only that foot was cold. Those pretty eyes looked at him, anxiety, frustration, sadness, all staring back at him from the depth of her soul. “No one has ever said I’m beautiful before.”

Harry felt something die in his chest. He really thought he would start groveling on his knees for her because he was one of millions of guys who wanted to grovel at her feet. He wanted to be better. As soon as he made her cry over missing a test, he wanted nothing more than to be better for her. “No one?”

“Just... my family...” She shrugged.

“Kitten,” he rolled his eyes. “You’re… you’re really beautiful,” he rubbed a hand over his mouth, pinching his lower lip, as he scanned her. “In a way that probably makes a lot of girls jealous,” she snorted. He sighed. “Seriously. Your hair, kitten. It’s... so silky and shiny and your eyes,” he shook his head. “And your brain, my God,” he smiled softly. “M’not even going t’mention your body. Because you’re more than your appearance, but m’really...” he nearly sighed like a lovesick teenager. Maybe part of him still was. “You’re stunning, kitten.”

She blushed. Really blushed. So hard that Harry could see it in the dim light of her room cast from the twinkly lights she had strung around the window. Her cheeks were so red and utterly beautiful. For a second Harry thought it would be easy. All of it. Getting her to like him. Trust him.

Her face morphed into one of utter distrust. “That’s mean,” she whispered. “You’re... that’s mean to...” she shook her head.

“Kitten,” he frowned. Unable to believe she could think like that. He didn’t even know where to begin. Everyone had to like her. She was lovely, beautiful, so intelligent it took his breath away.

But she mistook his hesitation for the worst. She shook her head. “Forget it. You’re just... being nice to me because... because you feel bad or something,” she sniffled. The poor thing couldn’t even take his compliment. Harry wanted to cry. “Just the way everyone else does,” she laughed bitterly. “Thank you for being nice. Or whatever. For wanting to protect me. I don’t need it,” her voice cracked. “You can go back to your party or... whatever it is that—”

“Love,” his heart felt achy.

“No seriously. I get it. I’m too nice. I’m stupid to let him walk all over me but you don’t know the kind of reputation my family has in comparison to everyone here. So yeah. I let him use me as a prop—”

“Stop it,” he snapped and shook his head.

“—because I’m good for his image, too. Even if it makes me miserable and—”

“Kitten, I’m serious. Stop it,” his voice was almost raw. Like he had been screaming for hours. Maybe it was the combination of anxiety and frustration rushing through him. Like adrenaline but worse. He wanted to cry.

“—it’s pathetic that when people see me with him, they see this innocent—”

“Shut. Up.”

“—intelligent girl who doesn’t know anything because her family is poor and broken—”

“Stop it!” His voice took on a new octave. It made her words fall away.

They were both seething with anger and frustration. The tears in her eyes made him sick. Like when he made her cry because she couldn’t take her test. It was only the second time, but he quickly realized he hated it when she cried. “Stop what, Harry?”

“Stop minimizing who you are,” he practically growled.

“Everyone else does it.”

“Oh yeah? Name one time I’ve done that. If everyone has done it; tell me, kitten. When have I. Ever. Made you feel like less?”

She was silent. Finally.

Harry never made her feel like less. He annoyed the shit out of her. Pissed her off and made her sad. But he never made her feel like she didn’t deserve to be on that campus. Never made her feel inferior.

“M’going t’kiss you,” he warned stepping closer to her now that he made his point.

Her brain restarted. Her cheeks flushed again. “Harry, we can’t I’m... in a relation—”

He glared at her as her back pressed to her bed frame. Cornering her in her open room that was suddenly infinitesimally smaller than it was seconds before. “S’not a fucking relationship,” he snarled. “M’not sure what y’were doing. But you’re not doing it anymore. Not with him. Never again.”

“But we were—”

“Y’don’t need him,” he assured her. “Trust me.”

“But—”

“Y’have me, kitten. M’gonna do whatever y’need,” he cupped the back of her neck, making the words stop on the tip of her tongue and put one hand on the small of her back, pulling her to him swiftly and devouring her lips. She moaned instantly, seconds into the kiss. His lips felt like warm little pillows. Cushioning her own. It was intoxicating. Unfairly, he pulled away almost as quickly as it started. “Oh s’nice, kitten,” he praised. “Moaning already,” he pulled back and peppered kisses along her jaw. She whimpered softly, making him groan. “Y’make pretty little noises like that, kitten. M’not gonna be responsible for what comes next,” he warned pressing his lips back to hers.

Her fingers tangled in his hair at the back of her head. Harry leaned forward arching her backward and wrapping his arms around her tightly. He didn’t want to be aggressive, but there was something in the way her mouth tasted, the way her body felt, that he couldn’t stop kissing her. Hardly breathing, or maybe he was trying to breathe all of her in, he continued pulling her lips into his mouth. Hoping that somewhere along the way, they would get stuck like that. Destined to spend eternity attached by their kiss like a Greek punishment. Except the endless touch of her mouth wouldn’t be punishment. Because he wanted it to be endless. Wanted to spend forever showering her with affection because she deserved that and so much more.

“Can I stay the night, kitten? I’ll sleep on the floor if y’want,” his voice was practically ragged. His forehead pressed to hers. “I jus’ don’t want t’leave you. Please don’t make me leave.”

“You can stay,” she whispered, her voice breathless and airy. “Not on the floor, though.”

“M’not a bat, kitten. Can’t hang from your ceiling,” he joked.

She snorted. “C’mon,” she tugged him to her bed and pulled her in right behind her beneath her covers.

There weren’t many times Harry felt peace. “Harry?” She asked, as she settled into his embrace. His lips skimmed along her face, pressing every so often to whatever he could reach. Like he couldn’t stop himself.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

He squeezed her. “You’re welcome, beautiful.”

She sighed. “Your mouth is pretty nice when you’re not talking,” she said quietly.

He chuckled. “Just you wait and see, kitten.”

*

As lovely as the night before was, she tried to maintain a semblance of her routine between replaying the kiss(es) and the angry confession over and over in her head. At the moment, she was grabbing lunch for herself. It was probably going to set her back a bit since she’d need to buy more pencils since Harry stole them all, but she was a little too tired to go without supplying herself with more energy. She pulled her wallet out as the cashier rang her up. “It’s all set, love,” she said sweetly. Tilting her head, she gazed at the woman as if it were a joke.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s all set,” she repeated. “Your food’s been paid for already.”

She blinked, glanced around, looking for someone that fit the description of Good Samaritan. “Who...?”

“I’m not sure. I was just told that if you came through the line to tell you it’s been taken care of. You can get whatever you want,” she shrugged.

Blinking again she glanced around again. A line formed rapidly behind her. She gathered her items and headed for a seat. The one where Isaac usually joined her. But there was no Isaac. She read her book and listened to her music in silence. It was peaceful. When the hour was up, she headed back to the kitchen area to grab another snack, lining up behind the others waiting to check out as well. “Your food’s paid for.”

She felt like she was being pranked. “Again?”

“No, always.”

She felt like her mind was short circuiting. “What?”

“Your meals. All have been paid for. For the year.”

The snack she got was going to be uneaten because she felt like it was a prank. “I don’t understand.”

“I really don’t have more details than that. We were just told your food was paid for.”

“We?”

“My boss left, but I can have him reach out and explain it.”

“Please. Thank you.”

Stunned, she left with her snack. She headed to the library academic center. The tutors on her shift all waved to her. “That gift is for you,” Gabby said. At the front table was a fairly large giftbag. The kind you get for a kid’s birthday and put a board game in it. She looked at it curiously and pulled the tissue paper out of the way. She swallowed the lump in her throat realizing she didn’t need the dining hall manager to reach out to her after all.

She plucked the card from the slot on the side of the bag.

Half are probably for me anyway.

The bag was filled with packages of her favorite pencils. More than she would need for the rest of her undergraduate degree. Maybe even graduate. Or even the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath and pulled out her laptop and opened her email. She typed in Harry’s address, because she still didn’t have Harry’s phone number. Even after making out with him for hours. After waking up in his arms later than she was supposed to and letting his lips linger on her skin.

She wrote her message and pressed send before she could overthink it.

You didn’t have to do that. It’s way too much, actually. I’m a little uncomfortable imagining you spending THAT much money on food and pencils.

Well. If you died of starvation, I wouldn’t have anyone to bother. Kind of a boring way to suffer through the last two years of college—we have Real Analysis I and II next year. I can’t do that alone.

Thank you. That was... very nice of you.

You’re welcome, kitten. Coffee is free too; I went to every shop within walking distance and left your picture. An old ugly one from your mom’s Facebook page, don’t worry. Didn’t want you to get a big head about all of this. It’s not a big deal.

Help yourself to whatever you need and if you need something else let me know.

And this is my phone number so you can stop emailing me like it’s 2003.

She smiled fondly at the message. Closed her laptop and felt happier to be at work than she had in weeks.

*

Harry didn’t force anything. She was lying against his chest in her small room, on her small bed. “I’m sorry it’s so cramped,” she whispered.

“S’better for snuggling,” he shrugged and kissed the top of her head. “Go t’sleep, please, kitten.”

“Don’t you want to... I don’t know, fuck or something?”

“Well, when y’propose it so romantically like that,” he murmured.

She pouted. “I don’t know... I just assumed that...”

“That m’like Isaac? Please don’t make that assumption anymore.”

“So, you don’t want to fuck me?”

“Oh, more than anything,” he tilted her head up and brushed his finger on her warm cheek. “But not until you’re ready.”

“I literally just—”

“No. Y’think s’because we’re supposed to. Not because y’want to,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll wait,” he promised and kissed the tip of her nose, and it was the lamest kind of kiss imaginable. Being twenty-one and melting over a kiss on the nose.

Yet it made her want a thousand more of them. Made her want to cry with how adored she felt. Harry didn’t care that she worked a thousand hours. He didn’t expect her to make out with him. Or blow him. Or anything sexual. No, he practically begged her to sleep in his arms.

It was unfair how sweet he was wrapped up in the body of someone that made her infuriated for the last year and a half. Right as she was about to pass out, she jerked herself awake involuntarily. “Y’okay, love?” He hummed as if she so much as coughed and not nearly punched Harry in the face with her movement.

“Tired.”

“I know, baby. M’trying t’make y’sleep,” he combed her hair down. Traced her spine in the same movement. “Surprise, surprise, you’re a bit stubborn.”

“Who me?”

“Want me t’sing?”

“Don’t want my ears to bleed, no.” Harry chuckled softly. Ignored her.

Then hummed.

It was so warm, so soft, it felt like magic. Harry could sing. That wasn’t on any Bingo cards when she thought about Harry. She didn’t even know what song he was singing. But it lulled her right to sleep.

*

Harry was wrapped around her in the small bed, his head tucked below her chin, his face smushed into the front of her shirt. If she wore a lower cut shirt, Harry would have been drooling on her boobs. “You’re able to breathe in there?” She whispered, threading her fingers through his hair.

“S’the only way I want t’go,” he promised, his voice muffled with sleep and the fabric on her body. “Or with y’legs wrapped around m’head,” he shrugged one shoulder. If Isaac said that to her, she would have punched him. When Harry said it, it made her want to wrap her legs around his head. Made her squeeze her legs together. “Felt that,” he mumbled. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, so he had no choice but to feel it. “Did y’sleep okay?”

She nodded. “Did you?”

“Extremely. Wrapped up in m’favorite girl.”

Her heart fluttered and she kissed the top of his head. Never would she have imagined Harry being so sweet and lovely like this. “Are you... going to be mean in public to me?”

“I hope not,” he pulled away and rubbed his eye. He looked sleepy and boyish. A devilish combination for her skeptical heart. “Have I been mean t’you?” He asked. “I know I tease, but mean?” She supposed he wasn’t mean. Maybe the teasing tricked her.

“I guess the teasing—”

“M’so sorry love,” he frowned and cupped her cheeks, kissed her softly on the lips. “No more teasing,” he promised.

“Well,” she laughed softly. “I kind of like teasing you.”

He smirked. “I don’t want you to think m’mean,” his eyebrows pinched together.

“Can I ask you a question without making fun of me?”

“I think that depends on the question, kitten. If y’ask me some basic math problem like what’s the indefinite integral of x-squared times cosine x or what’s a negative times a negative—”

“Are we dating?”

He stopped his joke and cupped her face. Dropped his forehead to hers and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “I would fucking hope so, kitten.”

She swallowed. “You don’t care that I’m broke? Or that I work a lot and I’m crazy and—”

“No, I don’t care ‘bout any of that. You’re m’favorite person to annoy. The person I look forward t’seeing most in class. You’re the entire reason ‘ve never skipped class.”

Her heart fluttered. “You can’t pay for everything, Harry. It was a sweet sentiment but—”

“M’not letting m’girlfriend starve,” he rolled his eyes.

Her heart definitely fluttered. He was sweet. Harry was sweet. What a revelation. Or maybe she always knew that.

She looked into those beautiful green eyes that made her feel overwhelmed in the best way. “Why do you call me Your Majesty?” She whispered quietly. Almost scared to hear the answer.

He rolled his eyes again. A favorite past time of his. “Because kitten,” he pressed his lips over hers briefly, then kissed her forehead, and finally the tip of her nose. He met her gaze and made sure she was focusing when he spoke again. In a few minutes she would be busy, overwhelmed, and stressed. For the moment, Harry wanted to make sure she knew just how important she was to him. “I think you’re a queen.”

--

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[luludeluluramblings]

Neglected!Marine!Reader x Yandere!BatFamily

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’ve been holding on to this one. Army Dreamer sent me an ask and this is what came out of it. I know you probably wanted Army, but I just thought Marine cause of an old COD OC I had and this fricken spiraled. I was gonna make it a three part series, but that would take too long and you deserve it now!

A/N: Frick forgot the warnings. My bad!

Warnings: GN!Reader, Yandere themes, bodily injury (to reader), mentions of death

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You've been living with the Wayne since our mother and step-father died. You've constantly been ignored and belittled by the family. The most common bully being Damian, your younger half-brother. After constant harassments and being called weak by pretty much everyone for years, you sign up for the Marines after a recruiter comes to your high school and gives you and your classmates the selling points.

But, fuck it, you don't care. Gets you away from everyone. And, it's one of the most difficult military branches so an even bigger fuck you to anyone who thinks your weak after this.

It takes two years for you to get somewhere comfortable. You're not flying up the military ladder, but you’re a damn good officer in the METOC moving to South Caroline. And, a 12 hour drive and 2 hour flight from Gotham. Neither which you have ever taken.

You don't bother contact home. You don't bother going home for holidays and Christmas. You send Alfred a card occasionally with some of your other single and lonely military friends in it. Y'all make them really funny too.

It's through these collected and hilarious cards that you get rediscovered. Not by the family, but by the media. Apparently, not only did your silly photos go viral, but your friends damn military tik tok did to.

("Why'd you join the marines?" "It was too dangerous to be a stripper in Gotham." "Why'd you join the marines?” “I have daddy issues and wanted to get yelled at by someone who cared.")

The family which had still been ignoring you or completely forgot you up to that point was absolutely fucking baffled.

Bruce was imediatly calling Kate.

(“Why didn’t you tell me they joined the military?” “I was Air Force. Not in the Marines. How would I have known?”)

Media is now constantly harassing the family because like, “Hey! Your kid disappeared and joined the military, and you said nothing and now they're roasting you online for the entire world to see.

Bruce is making calls. Tim and Barbara are now trying to hack military stuff. Only for your barracks friends to troll the absolute shit outta them and on government computers to boot.

Eventually Stephanie finds out you’ve been sending cards to Wayne manor of you having fun and doing stupid shit with friends. (Things that you should be doing with them, because holy fuck are you funny as shit.) All addressed to Alfred. Bruce asks if you ever sent anything to him, which was a flat no.

Jason is just baffled. This was nothing he expected. You used to be so soft and squishy, now there's videos of you lifting and doing fun shit with friends and you're shooting guns like a badass. So proud of you.

Cassandra is reading everyone's body language, but yours just looks carefree when she sees your videos and photos, she wants to feel like that. She wants you to help her feel like that.

Dick is distraught. You could have join the circus! But the military? Yes, you're a badass now, but still! He's delulu in thinking that you would have wanted to follow in his footsteps. Acting like he wasn't always busy or spending time with Damian.

Duke is just wowed. You joined the military. You DNGF. You are badass without having to wear any hero costume. Cool shit. Top tier.

Stephanie is just amazed. You had all this personality and she had no idea. You were just living your best life without the wight of the family or our father, and holy shit did she want that for herself. Teach her your ways.

Barbara is amazed, too. This was the most normal form of rebellion anyone could do in this family. Yet, no one expected it and you did it. She would have expected you to become a villian or gone rouge, but instead you joined the military. Color her surprised.

Tim is pissed. Everyone wants you back, yet there is no way to get you back. You knowingly or unknowingly made it nearly impossible for them to get you back without the military and government getting involved. He's pissed about the challenge, and now he's obsessing over all your old manerisns and the photos and videos. (He has the cleariest picture of how you really feel, but he doesn't care that it might be broken or negative. He's obsessed all the same.)

Bruce finds out your active duty and freaks the fuck out. Something could happen and you could be deployed and killed. His worst fear is you being killed. It was bad enough when you were in Gotham and fragile. But, now your military and you think you’re strong. But, you’re not and now you could die at any moment.

Damian is shellshocked. You technically proved him wrong. And, he sees the media's reaction to you. Some people are actually praising you for your service. You left and made yourself strong and made a new family. You didn't bother fighting for this one because you didn't think they were worth it. You didn't think he was worth it. It hurts, but not in away that makes him angry. In a way that makes hs insecurities flare. He wants you to come home now, so he can prove to you that he is worthy. That he is sorry.

Getting you home is near impossible. You have a specific roll that you've trained for, and are on active duty. Your a military dog on a leash the bat family cant control.

It's Kate the gives them the horrible idea. If they got you discharged from the military then you would have to come home. The only problem is an honorable discharge would still give you the means to avoid them, while a dishonorable discharge would make you absolutely hate them and they don't want that. (Plus the media would constantly harass you and them.)

So they decide to get you a medical discharge.

But, they can't hack into things and make anything up, though. And, all your physicals and mental check ups were sound. You have a more administrative position, but accidents happen all the time. Bruce has to make a few phone calls, but your active duty gets you sent out into the field. On a military operation that called for your expertise. (His anxiety is spiked through the roof and he has League Members on standby if something goes wrong.)

Kate also made a few phone calls. You ended up being deployed to assist the National Guard near your area. Only while doing your duties, you and your squad trigger a trap and you lose your hearing in your left ear and your left leg is wrecked. A few of your team mates are killed. (Bruce is pissed at Tim, Dick and Jason for that specifically.) Some lost limbs or now have memory problems. Eveyone in the squad is down and out.

You try to support the surviors as you all recover, but as soon as you’re better and given medical discharge the family snags you. Dragging you back to gotham before anyone can say anything. You try to fight, but the loss of hearing messes with you and the still fresh injury makes you weak once more. Plus, there's more of them than you.

When back at the manor, the family uses PTSD as an excuse for the lack of public appearances, and make many donations to VA hospitals and campaigns for retired and injured members of the military. (They even pay for what the military won't cover for your friends and anyone else they injured in the incident. Bruce has some guilt over you getting hurt that he tries to get rid of by doing this.)

Instantly, Stephanie and Dick coddle you. And, an insane amount.

Jason tries to treat you how he did before since he's so awkward and you punch him in the face in return. Not taking that from him anymore. And, he fucking respects you more for it.

Tim ironically enough, begins to emotionally manipulate you with finesse. He's studied you obsessively, yet somehow you’re still surprising him every now and then.

Barbara gives you space, she can tell this has all been a lot and of everyone she probably understands your injury best.

Bruce bounces between trying to coddle you and give you space. Unintentionally treating you like a child.

Cass is just silently there all the time, almost always watching. She can tell you're overwhelmed and pissed, but you’re still so peaceful to her. Not asking her to talk or forcing her away.

Duke is the most chill. Sucks they had to nerf you, but still your fun to hang out with despite the injury. You developed some military humor and it is hilarious.

Damian, avoids you until he finally breaksdown. And it's not pretty. He finally confesses how guilty he feels. That he is sorry. That he actually didn't want to have to hurt you, that he is a terrible brother and a horrible hero. he never shouldve called you weak. (And, you forgive him, because he was a child. And, because out of everyone he's the only one to apologize and confessed to what they did.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m typing up like three stories at once, and my ask box is filled. Absolutely slammed. Last time I went on an answer spree I burnt myself out. Hopefully this will hold y’all off while I finish up Smalltown! Part 8, Pregnant! Part 2, and a partial Part 2 to the SugarDaddy Tony thingy. (I don’t know where that came from, but I’m happy y’all liked it. The original man for the SugarDaddy/Older!Husband was Philip Graves. lol)

[brawberryz]

The fallen warrior

Batfam Yan! × Negleted! Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error / M.list

Tw: yandere behavior, manipulation, murder, torture, isolation, child neglect, child abandonment, mommy/daddy issues, use of katanas/knives, gore, eating disorders, hallucinations, corruption, dark themes, religious themes

The devil is real

He's not a little red guy with a tail and horns

He may be beautiful

Because he was a fallen angel, and God's favorite

A fallen angel destined to burn in the flames for his actions

You kept looking at your food without touching it, it was another lonely night in the mansion

It was the same old routine

Getting up

Training

Going on a mission

And 'eating'

Even though that food entered your mouth years ago, every time a bite entered your mouth you ended up throwing up

Any normal parent would have started to worry because their child wasn't eating

But you knew your family didn't care, nothing mattered

You got up from the table and threw your food on Titus' plate

You went back up to your room, the only noise in the mansion was the thuds of your footsteps on the old floors of the mansion

You opened your room it looked as dirty and messy as ever, it was far away from all the other rooms

You walked in and closed the door as you took off your clothes and left them lying somewhere in the room

Your bathroom felt cold and lifeless, some shampoo bottles lying around and other things you didn't even remember you had

The cold drops from the shower fell down your scarred body, your body shuddered when the soap touched those unhealed scars

Your body was full of them, in a way you felt disgusting about it

Some were from battles lost or won, others you caused yourself but they all had a story to tell

You leaned against the shower wall as the water fell on you

You felt tired

Tired of this life

Tired of having to pretend that you weren't affected by what others said about you

You could still remember those moments, you just stayed quiet and bowed your head

You were just a dog, a pet

A pet that would do anything for a prize

And that prize was their attention

Sometimes you thought about retiring from everything, being a person "normal" but you knew it was impossible

The only thing you knew how to do was hurt others, you were raised to be a weapon

A monster

They took an innocent child and turned him into a weapon to fulfill the whims of others

A bird whose wings were broken so that it could never fly

A bird in which it sees other birds flying from its cage

A bird that also wishes to be free

A bird that wants to be free

When a child grows up without love in their family

Being ignored and hurt all the time, most people believe that they will end up being aggressive people

Full of hate and resentment

And although it is a valid response, it is not always the case

They grow up feeling ashamed

Ashamed of themselves

Ashamed of not being able to be themselves, ashamed of not being able to show their emotions

Ashamed because they believe they are not enough

They believe that love must be earned

They believe that because their parents never gave them the affection they needed meant that they were never enough

They are afraid of not being loved

Of making a mistake and being ignored again

Of being hurt again

Ending up distancing themselves from everyone, being ashamed of being helped

Ashamed of asking for help

Broken people who unintentionally end up breaking others

And they also end up breaking themselves more

Your body moved faster than normal, this was supposed to be an easy mission

That's what your father told you, you just had to stop another stupid plan from your riddler and everything would be fine

But it wasn't, his riddles were confusing but you were smart and it was easy to solve them

But then you realized that it was all a trap, he had snuck the bomb somewhere else

It was all a trap, a very clever trap

You had little time but I wasn't going to let innocent people die

You arrived faster than you thought, you broke one of the building's windows to enter the place

You went through the entire abandoned place until you heard the crying and calls for help from some people

You entered the large room and found people inside a transparent box

Next to them was the bomb connected to a cable, you had to be fast if you didn't want people and this whole place to end up destroyed

You tried to deactivate the bomb but it was in In vain, you even tried to destroy them but it was in vain

So you decided to free the people, you took all those scared people to a fire escape and told them to get down as fast as possible

I wasn't going to let everyone get crushed

You sent a call to the batcave saying you needed help

You weren't going to be able to get all the people near this building to leave

In a few minutes it was going to be destroyed by the bomb and you needed help

It was the first time you asked someone in the family for help, you always did it alone

You never asked anyone for help, you thought you were weak

Your mother came from a dangerous family, full of sorcerers and powerful assassins

And your father was literally batman

You couldn't be weak, you couldn't allow yourself to ask for help

But now you really needed it

You were strong

But sometimes even the strongest needed help

When you were sending the signal you heard a cry, this one didn't sound like the others

It seemed more childish and scared

You walked through all the halls following the sound

It was supposed that only these people would be here but you were wrong

In a small room there was a little girl crying while she was lying on the floor

You approached her trying to calm her down, saying that everything would be okay

She clung to your suit scared that something would happen

"Calm down little girl, I'll get you out of-"

And then you heard it, the sound of the bomb

The clock had stopped meaning that the bomb was going to explode right now

This wasn't supposed to happen, there was still too much time before the bomb was detonated

"Shit!"

All you could remember was the sound of the bomb exploding and the building shaking, the girl cried louder and you tried to protect her with your own body

The building ended up falling leaving a mess all over the street, broken cars and you could hear the ambulances and firefighters approaching the area

You felt your body weak, you thought you had received all the damage

Since you could swear that almost all the games in your body were broken

"Hey little girl, are you okay-"

You couldn't believe what you saw, your arms and suit were covered in blood

The lifeless body of the girl, that scared look was still in her eyes

She was dead

No

No, no, NO!

This isn't supposed to happen, heroes are supposed to save everyone

And now because of you someone as innocent as a child is dead

Your body couldn't move, you could only cradle the lifeless body of the little girl

Your mother was right

A monster will never stop being a monster even if it acts nice

Your mother's soft hands cleaned your blood covered body

"Mommy is so proud of you honey, you did perfect"

You could only watch as the water in the bath turned red as the blood left your body

But you could still feel the blood

It was like it was stuck to your skin, no matter how many times you tried to clean it off that blood never went away

Your mother's hands cradled your face

You accepted the affection she gave you, it was rare that she acted so kind to you

There were times where she acted like you were the best thing that ever happened to her

And there were other times where she simply treated you like garbage

She gave you love and understanding and then took it all away from you

It was a cycle that repeated itself all the time, you wanted her to always be proud of you

You wanted her to hold you at night when those nightmares kept you awake

Her love was so shallow and fake

Your hugs felt so cold and uncomfortable

Mom

Am I still young?

Can I sleep in your arms?

Would you still love me after all I did?

Look into my eyes and tell me

Tell me I'm enough

Tell me I've done enough

Please

Just look at me

Look at me

Your eyes slowly opened, you felt your body burning

You saw the bandages that covered your body, and one of your arms was in a cast

Great

Now you weren't going to be able to train in peace anymore, although you didn't care

When you were with your mother and her clan they made you fight even if all your bones were broken

A simple broken arm wasn't going to stop you, and your family would never care

You had been on the verge of death too many times and they never cared

You got up from your bed staggering a little but you held on to the small piece of furniture next to your bed

You mentally told yourself that you could do it

You weren't weak

You couldn't see yourself weak

You left your room limping a little, with every step you took you felt your bones hurt

You passed by Bruce without even looking at him, you didn't want to see him or talk to him

"You have a broken arm"

Your father said making you stop

You sighed tiredly, you didn't have enough spirit to talk or argue with him

"I know, I'm not blind"

When you were about to leave you felt a hand on your shoulder, that sudden contact made your skin crawl

Since the first time you arrived at the mansion you had had very little contact with him, only some morning greetings that were rarely returned

"You're hurt, you must rest, now"

He gave you those looks that he only gave to criminals when he was being batman

But he didn't intimidate you, he never did

You pushed his hand away with a sharp movement

"Don't touch me, don't pretend that you care about me when we all know that you don't"

You said for the last time before leaving through the halls without even listening to what he said to you

You didn't want to hear it, His words weren't worth it

You didn't need him, you were fine on your own

All people were cruel and mean

In a world as selfish and evil as this, you're either the prey or you're the hunter

And you stopped being the prey a long time ago

.

.

.

.

After that strange and awkward encounter Bruce was left wondering

What was wrong with you?

Why are you acting so angry? He thought it was because of the recent events of your previous mission.

But something about your rejection made his chest hurt. Why are you rejecting him like that?

Maybe he wasn't the best father, but he tried

Well, he tried to be a good father to others

But not to you

Those thoughts kept him awake at night

He couldn't even have a quiet day without that thought of guilt consuming him completely

He tried to get close to you for a few days But all he got was a dirty look and an insult

You refused any kind of interaction from him, you didn't even let him touch your shoulder

He thought you just didn't like physical contact, but when he saw you hug Alfred it made something inside him flare up with anger

And soon your attention became more than just an interest, it became an obsession

Why did you treat others so well but not your family?

And this strange behavior did not go unnoticed by the others

Richard was the first to notice it, he saw how Bruce tried to spend more time with you

Which seemed strange to him, before Bruce seemed too disinterested but now it seemed as if something turned on inside Bruce

He thought he was just being paranoid or plotting something

He decided to go talk to you, surely you would have answers!

.

.

.

"Fuck you" was the only thing that came out of your mouth when Richard asked you something

Richard's face changed drastically when those words left your mouth

Why were you so defensive?

"Excuse me?"

"What you heard, fuck you I don't care what happens to Bruce, if you want answers go and ask him, don't be fucking me up with stupid questions"

You said one last time before closing the door to your room in his face

Richard was left processing everything that happened

What the fuck was that?

He knocked on the door again but no one answered

Why were you rejecting him like that?

He's supposed to be your older brother! Why did you treat him like that

Although well, he doesn't remember the time that either of you talked

But you should have at least had one conversation, right?

God...

He really screwed up

.

.

.

.

You thought Richard would be the last person to bother you but sadly that wasn't the case

It felt like the whole family had come together to notice you existed for the first time in your life

And you hated that

You hated being treated like you didn't know what they did to you

But you weren't going to give in that easily, if they wanted something from you they could fuck off

You weren't going to let anyone hurt you again

I'm not your friend

I'm not your partner

I'm not your sister

And I'm not your daughter

I bite

.

.

.

"Hey (name)!, do you-"

"Fuck you Tim"

You didn't even give him time to speak when those words cut through you like knives

You didn't even think about it, they came out on automatic

He just stood there with the words hanging in his head as he watched you walk away from him

He felt something weird when you so rudely rejected his invitation

You just walked away disinterested, you didn't feel like talking to him

You didn't have time to talk about stupid things

Seriously, what's wrong with this family?

First your father, then Richard and now Tim!?

You need a break right now

.

.

.

.

Apparently Tim wasn't the only one who started to take an interest in you

When your father sent you and Damian on patrol you thought it was the worst thing that could happen to you tonight

But you were wrong

You hated that little demon with all your soul, his mere presence made you want to break his neck or run katanas through his body

You were both agile and it was normal

You two were sons of powerful and dangerous mothers

Sometimes you thought Bruce had some fetish for women who could easily kill him

The patrol was "normal" or if you could call it that

You could feel Damian's penetrating gaze on your neck

"What the hell is wrong with you? You've been looking at me like that the whole patrol"

You said without thinking when you two stopped at a building to rest

You couldn't stand it anymore, you were a direct person and you were tired of having to put up with his childish behavior

"Nothing's wrong with me"

"Liar"

You accused him, you knew when someone was lying or hiding something from you

Damian didn't answer and ignored you the whole patrol

And it's not like you cared

But what Damian hadn't told you was that he was jealous

The previous week he saw you hug a child and give him affection on a mission

Bruce had sent some members of batfam on a rescue mission

And seeing you comfort someone made him jealous, why did you treat a strange child that way?

The way you hugged that child and whispered to him that everything would be okay made his blood boil with jealousy

He's supposed to be your real brother, why did you treat a stranger better than him!?

It wasn't fair

He wanted that affection too

And he wanted it just for himself

.

.

.

.

You could say that Jason was the worst, one day he just decided to show up in your room and force you into the mansion's library

You protested for him to put you down but he just ignored you

He literally had you on his back like a sack of potatoes, he made you sit down reluctantly in one of those comfy chairs

He sat down next to you and started reading

Was this some kind of joke!?

He literally pulled you out of your comfy bed and then brought you here to sit down doing nothing??

"I'm leaving"

"No, you're not"

You said without flinching as he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and made you sit back down

You just grumbled and swore

You sat there for hours, you started to tease him thinking that this way he would let you go

"Can I go now?"

"No"

"And now I can go now?"

"No"

"I can-"

"NO"

He said that last word annoyed forcing you to sit down again

This day was going to be very long and strange...

.

.

.

And as the days passed this obsession grew more in them

To a point where they didn't even let you make your own decisions

For some strange reason you had some family member watching your every move all the time

It got to a point where it was just suffocating

And you tried to escape, maybe you could go back to your clan

I was sure your mother would welcome you with open arms

Yeah, you betrayed your clan and killed almost half of their sorcerers and assassins but it was for a good reason

But this time you weren't going to be so lucky

They weren't going to let you escape from their clutches so easily

.

.

.

"LET ME GO!"

You screamed trying to free yourself from your father's grip but it was in vain

He had you pressed against the cold floor of your room, he had caught you just as you tried to escape

You tried to fight but it was in vain, in size and strength he far surpassed you

"I didn't want to do this (name)"

"What are you talking about-"

You could barely finish your sentence when a scream of pain came from your annoying

You could feel that scream completely tearing your annoying

Your father

Your own father had broken one of your legs

You could feel how that place swelled and the only thing you could do was cry

He carried you in his arms while you tried to scratch his body But it was in vain

In this pitiful state you could never go anywhere

Your wings had been torn from your body, causing you to fall into that eternal fire

You fell like a jerk when he is shot by his prey

Maybe one day your wings will grow back

And you will be able to taste that sweet wind

But all you can do is admire that paradise that seems so far away but at the same time so close

Locked in a cage, of course the cage gives you love and food

But that will never change that it will continue to be a cage

An angel with cut wings

And a bird with broken wings

They both have the same dream

To be free

I like writing angst because people can't see when I'm venting and projecting

That aside, I hope you like this shit

I might make the story longer if I'm not too lazy

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter five. best friends and naked babies

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pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 1.4k + texts!

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, daddy issues, ward cameron 😒

authors note ⇢ genuinely love this series. it’s my current fav tbh. anyway, hope you guys are enjoying! love yall fr <3 EDIT: also forgot to mention that im rewatching love island thanks to @judesgfirl cause of her new series mentioning it lol yall should go read it, im already in love!

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“So are you and Rafe friends now?” It’s Sarah who speaks, making you flinch slightly. Kiara was sprawled on the blonde's bed, legs up and blowing random sounds through her fluttering lips. You had been at her vanity, looking at the expensive makeup she has. All high end.

The original plan was to give you a makeover with said high end makeup but her bed had been too comfortable and the AC felt too nice. Before you knew it, you all were sprawled tiredly around her room and were scrolling through your phones as a soft song played through Sarah’s phone.

“Uhm… sorta?” Is your plain response. This makes her push up on her elbows, staring through you with an intense look. “I mean… yeah, we’re friends… sorta.”

“My brother doesn’t have friends.” She admits freely, leaning back on her bed frame. “He has people he drinks with that later turn into people he fights when he has drinks with them.”

“So I should avoid drinking with him?” You hope the joke lands. It doesn’t. The look on her face is a dead serious one. You sigh loudly. “Look, we’re not friends. He’s helping me.”

“Helping you?” It’s Kiara who speaks up this time, her phone landing on her chest as she looks at you from her awkward upside down angle.

You shrug, feeling that familiar shame bubbling up in your chest. “Yeah, he’s helping me.”

“How so? Context, babe, context.” Sarah’s perked up, no doubt wanting to know more about your friendship with Rafe. Although, you believe you’re much less than whatever a friend is considered.

Trying to avoid the topic, you add, “he’s not my friend. Scar hated it when I told others that we were friends. People knew it. She just hated having it said aloud.”

“And you think Rafe’s going to be the same way?” It’s Kiara who asks this, clearly dumbfounded, now lying on her stomach to watch you from her position.

“Wouldn’t he? He’s popular. He’s hot. People kiss his ass. That’s what Scarlett is.”

Kiara’s about to speak up when Sarah interrupts her. “Wait, is that why you didn’t want to eat lunch with me last week?”

Biting your bottom lip, you nod. Sarah Cameron is a name that everyone knows. That everyone respects. Or that everyone kisses ass to, at least. You and Sarah Cameron at the same table would lead to more ridicule. You’re her friend in secret, not out loud.

“That’s insane,” Sarah sighs. “We’re friends, __. I don’t care who knows it. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever known at that stupid school.”

“Says no one ever.” You let out an awkward laugh. The compliment makes you feel a sense of pride but you’re not used to it, making you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“Says me.” Kiara adds. “And JJ. And Pope. And Cleo.”

“And John B.” Sarah jumps back in. “He thinks everyone works for the government but not you.”

This makes you laugh, shaking your head with amusement. The last time you all hung out at the chateau, John B had smoked and was going on and on about the government and its evil doings. You were too high to really pay any attention to his rambles, busy on Pope trying to do a sexy dance for the group.

“So, are you saying that I can go around saying you’re my bestie?” There’s a joking air to your tone as you say this. Her response catches you off guard.

“Yes, you can. Because I’ve been going around saying it. Now I look like a chump. I was parading us while you were denying us.” She dramatically clutches onto her chest and drops herself onto her bed and on Kiara who laughs and tries shoving her off.

Kiara gives up on pushing her off so she looks up at you from her awkward angle. “Look, you’re one of us, remember? Scarlett survivor.”

“Scarlett survivor.” Sarah chimes in and holds her fist out to you. You look up from her fist and up to the bright and hopeful smile on her face. For the first time, a girl is smiling at you and she holds no malice. It’s not a fake smile. It’s not forced. It’s genuine and full of adoration.

Awkwardly, you lift your own hand up, fist out and pounding hers. “Scarlett survivor.”

“Not available. Come back another time.” Rafe’s rougher voice sounds muffled through his side of the door. You bang on it again.

“Let me in!” You sing playfully as you tug and jiggle his door handle. There's a sigh from behind his door before a familiar click is heard.

You’re smiling up at him when he opens the door up, leaning against the doorframe, blocking the view of his room with his bigger frame. “What do you want?” You’re about to frown but you refuse to do it, suddenly worried about how you look after his comment. “Why are you making that face? You look constipated.”

“I’m trying not to frown.” You answer as you bring your hand up to your mouth, covering it shyly.

With a sigh, he pushes up off the doorframe and lets his door open wider. You’re about to take a peek into his room when his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it off of your face. “I said it was cute.”

“On Flo.” But he doesn’t respond as he pulls you into his room and closes the door behind him.

His room is empty. Void of any personality. Beige and simple. The type of look that your mother decorated the guest rooms which are never used since she refuses family from coming over. Stiff. Uncomfortable.

“Didn’t take you for a beige man.” Are the words that come out of you. Regrettable words but you can’t take them back now.

“I love beige. Beige is my favorite color.” His words are monotonous, watching you as you walk across his room, taking it all in.

You scoff out a small laugh, “beige isn’t a color. That’s a tint.”

“Beige is my favorite tint.” A laugh bubbles out of you at his words. You’re never sure when Rafe’s cracking a joke with you but he’s funny, without trying.

You turn to him from the opposite side of his king size bed. Far too big a bed in your opinion but voicing that doesn’t seem like a great choice at that very moment.

“My room is the same way.” You decide to be open with him. It’s a weird feeling, bearing yourself to someone but Rafe’s never looked at you in the way most men look at you. With a sneer of disgust. “It doesn’t feel like home. There’s no need to decorate a space, or make it yours, if you don’t feel that sense of belonging.”

There’s an intense look on his face that you don’t want to keep being on the receiving end of. Instead of continuing your conversation, you plop down onto his bed and tap on a key of his laptop, igniting it. “We’re watching Love Island. The girls fell asleep halfway.” You’re typing the familiar show onto his screen, clicking the episode you were on.

It takes one pat on the bed by your hand for him to follow suit, laying on his stomach and eyes on the screen. It's quiet between you two as the familiar narrator recaps the last scene. Your shoulders are touching, room dark but lighting your face as you watch intently. You’re engrossed in the episode when he speaks.

“Ward got rid of my stuff.” His voice isn’t soft but it’s not as loud and confident as it usually is. “My first year of college. We fought. The biggest fight we’d ever had. I had taken my essentials. Anything I left behind… he destroyed it. Said I wasn’t allowed back and anything he destroyed was his to begin with.”

There’s a pit in your stomach as he recounts the story. Your heart aches. You’re angry for him. Sad for him. There were rumors, as there is in the Outer Banks, but you never believed it to be true. Yet, there was always something off about their family appearances. You believed your mother to be insane and gossip fueled when she uttered words to you at the Kook events you were forced into. But this settles it for you. Ward Cameron is undeserving of the life he has. And it hits you. Why Rafe wants the championship ring that your step-father has in his office. He wants his fathers recognition. His fathers approval.

The look on his face as he watches the show tells you he doesn’t want to keep talking. Instead, you tangle your arm around his bicep, laying your head gently on his shoulder. The tension in him visibly slips away. You pretend not to notice as you keep watching the dating show in silence.

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[phas3d]

Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute

DRACO MALFOY

It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts

Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today

He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before

You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is

Academics, you’re better

Athletics, you’re better

Clubs and community, you’re WAY better

He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance

Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad

But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration

It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom

He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds

But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms

From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration

His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it

Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true

He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)

He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything

Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy

Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy

He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy

Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you

He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up

When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy

Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc

But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better

And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him

One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter

Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death

He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years

Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls

He plans to ruin your date and he succeed

He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food

The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up

From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you

But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug

Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again

“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry

So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage

TOM RIDDLE

Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone

This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭

But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you

He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush

But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way

He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you

But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊

He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you

Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge

But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background

He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence

Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world

And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc

Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours

He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot

So when he follows you, you think nothing of it

But in reality, he’s watching you in depth

Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is

He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned

He listens to it daily :)

Honestly, he’s just like me fr

He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you

If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold

Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence

But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space

MATTHEO RIDDLE

When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell

He was just trying to get into your pants

But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away

Instantly, he was attracted to you

He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him

He was about to do the exact same thing to you

Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move

Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day

Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭

Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them

Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them

He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more

Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get

Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts

Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received

He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable

He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)

Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are

Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen

Never ever gives up on you, no matter what

Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed

One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out

Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him

But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month

Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength

Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet

If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return

If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates

It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet

Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating

Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple

One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant

But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(

But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating

THEODORE NOTT

He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that

You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped

And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone

Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you

When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”

He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said

“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”

When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot

Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants

With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years

You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends

He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option

He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful

Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous

He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner

Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you

Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”

You two are basically dating… just without an official title

He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him

Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭

Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH

He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project

Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way

Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him

Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do

Spoils you ROTTEN omg

Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you

He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband

Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum

“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform

He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down

Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them

He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you

Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best

You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did

Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone

Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”

But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you

They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything

But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd

Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit

He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you

He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly

Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him

read more here! :D

[wisteriasymphony]

when I think of a felix-and-mylene dynamic, I mainly consider it based on Mylene's unshakeable faith in humanity versus Felix's unshakeable lack of faith in it? Mylene wants to change the system via protest and reform while Felix wants to destroy it entirely and build anew.

She's hoping to build a better world through advocacy and diplomacy meanwhile Felix is in full-on revolution, bring out the guillotine, we HAVE to kill the elite capitalist abusers there is no other choice. For Mylene, peace and respect have to be part of that path to a better future; Felix is very Frankenstein's Creature-esque in his belief that if your oppressors don't show you any respect and don't see your life as having value, then you shouldn't have to play nice with them at all.

Like. She is so certain that their voices will be heard and Felix is so certain that they will always fall upon deaf ears. idk.

THIS IS IT!!! LITERALLY!!! PERFECT INCREDIBLE BEAUTIFUL NO NOTES!!!! some notes. but it's added notes cause you said such good things.

I (and Silu) think the issue is that they're both leftist, but Felix is so misanthropic so it's a very anti-humanist/anti-natalist/anti-life outlook. Communism is just another way for him to be a little rebel bad boy and see the system as something evil and unfixable and awful. Mylene isn't like that, she believes in what she believes because she holds ideas like the inherent good of humanity and an inherent obligation to help your follow man close to her heart.

Felix is, to a T, the kind of communist that Disco Elysium refers to as a "very, very smart boy with something like a university degree in Truth" that was "fucked over" by Marx's socio-economic theory.

No, he's not gonna try and make the world better, that's stupid, He's just gonna get all mad at the suckery of it all and maybe do a magic terrorism genocide about it but not actually something productive. No! He likes the violence, he got it from his daddy, and he's gonna wield it the way it was wielded on him but better and more justified this time. "The world is bad and it will be bad forever, but I'm gonna start doing the bad in the other direction for once." Et cetera, et cetera.

There's also the idea that his communist views are very influenced by his aristocratic upbringing, making him a little hypocritical in a way. Mylene at least isn't literally related to royalty to even if she was all revolutionary about it there wouldn't be any irony to it.

But if my Claudrien stuff demonstrates anything, it's that I do love a good, fraught, dysfunctional pessimism x optimism dynamic, and Mylix does that super well.

[81pastrys]

hii, could you please write something for dad!lando where lila as a teenager still has her dad wrapped up on her finger so he still spoils her all the time and never scolds her but there's one time where she is mean to her mom so lando has to interfere and scold her for her attitude thanksss

Spoiled Brat

Summary— Lila wants a party bus for her 16th but her attitude causes an issue with her usual ‘daddy please’

Warnings— spoiled brat Lila ; Lando being a strict parent

A/N— this one is a bit longer than usual lol

Dad Lando List

Lando never got over Lila’s look when he said yes. Now that she’s 15 he still says yes to mostly everything that isn’t absurd.

Lila knows this. Pulling the, “daddy this” or “daddy that” Her mum tells her he isn’t a bank. Lila insists it’s just in her nature to be a daddy’s girl.

Her 16th birthday is coming up and she was talking with her mum about what she wanted for her party. Lando was home doing his own work in his office, door opened signaling he can be interrupted.

“So pink everything?” Her mum confirmed. Lila nodded and continued to browse on her computer. Her mum was ordering decorations, the cake, other things for parties.

“Can I do a party bus?” Lila asked. Her mums face scrunched up in disgust. “So no then?” Lila confirmed.

“You don’t need a huge party Lila, so the answer for a party bus is no.” Her mum said. “Besides, party buses are for drinking and stuff.” Lila rolled her eyes.

Her mum sighed in response and they kept browsing online. Lando came in for a snack and a refill of water and Lila smirked mischievously. “Daddy I want a party bus for my 16th.” She fluttered her lashes and Lando scoffed.

“A party bus for what?” He took a bite of food and she explained how it’ll be fun with her closest friends to dance in a bus. “What did mum say?” Lando asked, as he did now since she’s older and resorts to Lando when she wants something her mum said no to.

“No.” Her mum said, looking to Lando. Lila rolled her eyes again and huffed a breath. Lando caught it and slowed his chewing. His wife looked to the aggravated teenager and Lando walked over.

“You can have no party.” He said to her. Lila gave him a look of confusion and looked to her mum for savior but she shrugged her shoulders. Lando snapped to get her attention and she looked back at him. “Look at me, she said no.”

“Yeah but it’s my party!” Lila whined. “Pretty please?” She gave him puppy eyes and a fake pout. Nothing. He stayed still.

“No, if you want to roll your eyes at her, anything you ask for is a no.” He stands his ground. “She says no for a reason Lila.” Lila scoffs and slams her computer shut, storming to her room.

“That’s your daughter.” His wife said. He smiled and licked the inside of his cheek. “What is she gonna do on a party bus?” Her mum asked.

“Be stupid and brag about how I got it for her.” He said. “This is my fault isn’t it?” His wife nodded at him. He walked to Lila’s locked door. “Let me in.” He said stern.

She unlocked the door and he opened it. She laid back on her expensive mattress, the one she got with a “please daddy” and puppy eyes. Rex laying with her on the bed. The dog she got when she was 4 because she begged.

“Just because you ask me does not mean you will get something Lila.” He explained, leaning in her doorframe. “It may have worked in the past but I need to start rationalizing the decisions I make just because you bat your little lashes and say please.”

She looked severely annoyed at him. Rex whined when she shifted to sit up. “I see no problem in why I can’t have a party bus dad.” She returned to her normal attitude that she carried around.

“There’s no use in fighting me on that Lila.” He said shaking his head. “You can have a pink party but no bus.” She rolled her eyes again and he scoffed. “Really?” He said.

“What? That’s so annoying!” She argued. “I want a party bus!” Now she was raising her voice. Lando was debating whether she should even have a party anymore with the attitude.

“Acting like a spoiled brat, you’re about to have no party.” He said. “You think I got where I am by begging and batting my lashes?” He asked.

“Grandad got you what you wanted he had the money.” She pointed out. If you told Lando 10 years ago he raised a brat he wouldn’t believe you. “Maybe he’ll get me a party bus.”

“Lila, that’s enough, we said no bus.” He was raising his voice now. “I don’t know what to do with you.” He shook his head.

Before he could continue arguing his wife walked in. “Give me your phone.” She said walking to the bedside. Lila’s eyes rolled again but she easily gave up the device. “You’ll get it back when you can reflect on why I took it.” With that her parents left her room.

It took around a week for Lila to come around to admitting she was a brat, that she just wanted a normal party, and a party bus was absurd to ask for.

A week is actually insane

@il0vereadingstuff @kallanfiona

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

✮  tags ; top + gn!reader (no desc of parts but reader is fucking him), unabashed daddy kink, implied verse, small age gap, bottom megumi, petnames (boy, baby) thorough discussion of megumis daddy issues in exactly the direction you think, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.3k

✮  a/n ; i haven't slept . im not responsible for anything. will not be taking questions at this time. 🫡

He's the prettiest thing you've ever seen in your life.

You tell him as much. He pretends to hate hearing it. Soft features bend at hard angles to convincingly drive in the fact that he detests it. Megumi is always like that. For the years you've known him - anything he's at risk of playing his hand too quickly, he retracts. You think that's why you're so addicted to getting him to let go.

He scowls, has the signature Zenin mean mug that almost makes the whole schtick convincing. You know better though. Maybe because you've known him since highschool, or maybe because you simply find him easy to read.

You've never met someone so touchstarved or so delicate all while being so, so mean. There's a lot Megumi can do but he's shit at hiding when something bothers him. When he's irritated, he's petulant and when he's pleased - you'd almost describe him as docile. In his own way. In the way a dog who used to cage fight could be.

You have an interesting relationship to Megumi. You're a stray just like him - with your family being a Zenin lapdog and you being their black sheep. You have a lot to relate on, but Megumi finds your attitude grating. Finds the harshness of your personality difficult, and finds the finesse you have for slaughter and violence to be nauseating.

It's probably why he makes wide, wet eyes at you whenever you're alone. Closest thing he has to someone he can depend on with more experience. You're quick to appraise his work when you go on trips together. Despite your acting smug and Megumis frustration about your attitude, he soaks up the praise like a pretty little sponge. He's only a few years younger than you though, despite how he acts.

(Sometimes you think he wants the gap to be a little wider. )

A cute kid, only two years younger than you. Soft, striking green eyes. Soft lips. A mean little glare and spiky mop of black hair to compliment pale, cream colored skin. Megumi blushes easy, bruises even easier. His knees and elbows are a pretty cherry-blossom pink like something out of a movie scene.

The first time you fuck Megumi, its mostly because you're drunk and interested. It'd be stupid to not be interested in a face so pretty and desperate for approval.

All times after that are false happenstance. You make a routine of it - a silent game that makes it look like you're coercing him so he doesn't have to accept his own wants with any seriousness. You're cool with the ambiguity cause you're a little sick in the head. It's enough to fuck him, and sometimes when you're generous - to have him fuck you.

Megumi is pretty when he's being fucked. He changes his tune fast when his dick is a little hard and his guard is down - never thought that bratty little fucker could whine like he's in heat until you pulled the sounds out of his mouth yourself.

You always reaffirm how much he loves attention and praise and pampering when you fuck Megumi. He likes when you appraise him like that too. Soft compliments about his pretty little hole and the tightness of his waist. You manage it with relative ease. Makes your whole core throb just to see how much he twitches over something so slight and so easy. Such a mean fucking kid - such a brat, all welled up anger and abandonment issue.

Sometimes you wanna make him cry from him pain.

But most times, like now - you offer Megumi sweet pleasure. Give him that gentle, doting authority that he seems to fiend for. Desperate for reprieve in a way that stains his face, despite his attempts to brush it off.

Megumi takes dick like he was born for it. Slender fingers grip at your waist and claw at your back like he wants to rip you in half - tear you limb from limb but his legs wrap around your waist like he'd die if you left him for one fucking second. Megumi likes being full, you think. And he likes more when you praise him for taking your cock with such ease.

It's not rocket science to figure out he has some issues with authority. That distant relationship with his sensei and absent father make it obvious that he never wants to let anyone get too close. He could never really entertain certain relationships, he could never actually ask for approval. It's too little, too late.

Still, it surprises you a little when you first hear him say daddy. Not a lot, but enough that you pause in mid-thrust to stare at him a bit. He's mortified at the realization.

But you're not much less of a scumbag you figure, than all the figures in his life. You nod instead, feel arousal spark up in your stomach and claw it's way into your throat as you fuck him even harder.

("Daddy, huh?" You laugh because it's funny and you think the feeling of being so turned on you pass out is inappropriate. "Sure, baby. I'll be your daddy if you want." )

He doesn't say shit to you about it afterwards. Can barely look you in the during your post-sex aftercare and chat - though that conversation is never particularly romantic. You think the whole thing makes him want to die, so you don't really bring it up outside of a knowing look.

But it happens more often than that. Like a dam breaking, something slips and now Megumi can't close it despite how desperately he seems to want too. It's not even that you're particularly into it at the start.

But well, he's pretty. Prettiest little thing you've ever seen in your life, even though he's tall and strong. He's got this grace that overwhelms you into fucking him dumb whenever you can. Try as you might, you will is not strong enough to not lust over someone like him calling you daddy. That level of unprecedented whining, the affection, the need in such an embarrassing word makes your feel so horny you can barely think.

So, it doesn't particularly surprise you when Megumi calls you daddy. Not anymore.

He's weepy in the face, somewhere in the distance - and he's still wearing his pajamas when you come see him. The scene is uncomfortably domestic between two people who aren't dating, but you don't really care either way. Megumi is pretty everywhere, but he's especially needy getting fucked on his kitchen counter sitting up to cling to you.

His arms around your shoulders, face drawn together with shameless embrassed. His cock is twitchy, leaking against the flat plane of his stomach with unbridled enthusiasm. He says it in a whisper today which you can't help but find cute.

It's raw in the back of his throat, mildly gravelly as his nails dig into your shoulders with an enthusiastic whine. "Daddy. Fuck, please, can't."

"What's daddy's boy want huh?" You say, obviously mocking - a hand wrapped around shaft with a thumb over his slit. Megumi shivers. Lets out a shameful moan at the word boy that makes you laugh hard, makes your head spin dizzy with lust.

"Wanna cum," He says, but doesn't beg. Doesn't know how and couldn't figure it out if you paid him. You've spoiled him rotten after all. Filthy, really but he's prettier when he's acting precious. At least to you. "Make me cum, daddy please."

"Really milking it today, huh boy?" You chuckle and all he does is whimper. "Okay, okay. So fucking needy. Go on and cum, baby. Cum for daddy."

Megumi lets out a whine. A sound you barely knew he had in him as you say it that time and you laugh again and again as you bottom out. You watch him squirm as he finally finishes, back arching off the counter as the pleasure runs through him.

His face is still hazy when he comes down. Still beautiful in that way that makes you want to fuck him stupid and indulge for the rest of your life.

"Feel good, baby?"

He blushes faint and doesn't bother pushing you away. "Mm."

[revelboo]

Been rereading es soundwave and just..thinking of all the old memes for him. Current favorite is The one dog vine "He don't bite" "YES HE DO"

😂

He definitely does

Son of a Gun Pt 3

TF Earthspark Soundwave x Reader

• “Why do we have a squishy?” Squinting up at the other smaller humanoid alien as they nudge you with a ped, you glare as big bird hops up to sit on you. Head dropping and to your surprise, he bites through the extension cords. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Sitting up slowly as soon as he hops off of you, you start untangling yourself. Glance at where the alien poster boy for anger management has his back to you poking at something on a tall shelf, then at the smaller two. And then at the wide open door. “Don’t,” big bird growls as you make a mad bid for freedom and the other small Cybertronian starts cackling in delight.

• Snarling when he hears you take off, he turns and tracks you. Watches you until you reach the door and then lifts his arm, palm out. One pulse is all it takes for you to crumple with a cry of pain, hands clapped over your ears as you writhe. Striding over as your eyes stream and you cringe into a ball, he stares down at you. “Next time, it’ll hurt,” he growls as you glare up at him. That defiant look sparking through him as his servos flex. Ignorant little savage just glaring up at him, completely unrepentant.

• Next time? Feels like he blew out your eardrums this time, his words muffled under the feeling of your ears being stuffed with cotton. Eyes watering as big bird wings over to sit on you, head cocked, you groan. “I tried to warn you,” he says. And the other, the punk rock wannabe looking one, crouches and prods you with a servo, while the big guy growls and stalks back to whatever he’d been doing. “So, you gonna bail again?” Punk Rock asks as you just lay there. You’d never imagined sound could hurt so bad.

• Hands stilling on his project as Ravage leaps up onto the shelf and tips her head slightly, he watches her look at the other cassettes. As curious about the human as the other two, but less willing to investigate. Reaching out to scratch along her jaw, he listens to Frenzy and Lazerbeak peppering you with questions. Knows the two get bored of being cooped up, but it’s for their own safety. With all the infighting going on, he’s not sure who he can trust and they’re all so small. Fragile. His to protect whether they like it or not. Head turning slightly as you sit up and Lazerbeak shifts into your lap. Almost certain the cassette is trying to keep you from running again. Cause that look on your face? You definitely will try again.

• Hands lifting away from Big Bird as he settles in your lap, before you can tell him to move, Punk Rock is grabbing your wrist to examine your nails. “I shouldn’t be here,” you mutter, stiffening when Big Bird tugs at your shirt with his beak. “I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you,’” he says, head tipping to indicate his scary, what? Daddy? Murder hobo uncle? Adopted serial killer? “I’m Frenzy, that’s Ravage with the boss. You know Lazerbeak,” she says refusing to let go of your hand when you try to tug free of her examination of your chipped polish. Glancing up at anger issues daddy, because with that build, you’ve settled on him being daddy. Why does an alien robot need a waist like that? Spotting the third small Cybertronian staring at you with wide optics, you offer it a smile. And big and scary turns to glare at you as though feeling your stare. Somehow managing to convey so much hatred with so little of his expression visible. Skin prickling, you look away first. “So, do you like rock and roll?”

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[goldenlikedayl1ght]

wildest dreams - m. murdock

a/n: i have literally not been inspired for two weeks then i was STRUCK with the urge to write this. guys. i am so proud of this one i am not even going to lie. this one is dedicated to @bunmurdock because i am literally always thinking about professor murdock.... i really hope you guys enjoy this one, because i enjoyed writing it :) warnings: SMUT! inappropriate dynamic, P in V smut, so much cursing, lots of inappropriate thoughts and pining, power dynamics, dirty talk, reader does an edible and is high for a small part of this fic, reader isn't stupid in this one! she is just horny! she is also deaf, and there is yapping of readers daddy issues word count: 6.3k likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 summary: you have a huge crush on your professor and spend many days desperate for him. pairing: professor!matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: wildest dreams - taylor swift (taylor's version) "i said, "no one has to know what we do"/his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"

You could treat him better than any of these other horny grad students.

Seriously, that is your only conscious thought watching this man move around the front of this lecture center. You’re not dumb, you know everyone sitting here wants him—Those who are attracted to men want to fuck him and those who aren’t seek his approval. But you are built different, you’re also lacking a major sense, besides, your brain runs ramped with disgusting thoughts about the man.

Today’s focus is on the man’s outfit. It’s his last class of the day, and it shows. His clothes are a bit more wrinkled, and his hair is messier than it had been when he started the day. But most importantly, his jacket is thrown on the back of his chair, meaning you have a phenomenal view of his torso.

He wears a white button down, with the cuffs of the arms rolled up to just below his elbows, the bottom of the shirt tucked into the waistline of his pants. The shirt is tight, maybe a little too tight, especially around the arms. Maybe it’s because he works out. Or at least, you assume he works out.

That brings us to his tie. Oh, his tie. It’s nothing special—a pure black tie, just hanging from his neck. Your mind wanders. It starts at the dissection of a key court case in the subject of minimum wage, but from there, it starts drifting to his tie.

You think about the tie moving back and forth above you as he thrusts into you, brushing against your face, pulling on it to bring him closer. You think about that soft half chuckle he does, before he says something dirty like—

“Did you have something to add?” His voice right in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Fuck. You were not paying attention.

“Uh, No, Professor..” Your face is a deep red, embarrassed. You wish you could take off your hearing aids to stop listening to all the giggling from around you, from peers who are thrilled that Professor Murdock’s little (not-so) secret admirer got called out for her staring.

“Hm,” he taps the table in front of you, “Then I want you paying attention.” He says, before going back to his lecture. You could die right there. Everyone is laughing at you. He embarrassed you.

Okay, so you have no proof that he’s ever wanted you in the way that you’ve been so god damn desperate for him, but it’s still crushing that he’d single you out in that way. That maybe while you were increasingly needy for him, he found you fucking annoying, in such a way that he felt the need to embarrass you in front of your peers.

You want to melt—Melt into a puddle with just your boots and your hearing aids left behind so you never have to face him ever again. That’s why you’re so relieved when he dismisses class right on time (Well, right on time for him. He always ends class five minutes early to leave room for questions) and you quickly gather your things.

Because of the sheer level of embarrassment he has caused you, the other students in the class who want him try to flock to him, sensing that you no longer have the confidence to engage with him—But your desire is still there, as you messily shove your things into your backpack. You turn when you’re finished, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Your face is still flushed, part because you’re embarrassed, part because you are out of breath from rushing. But you are faced with the view of your professor, all alone. Your breath hitches when his hand moves up to the top of his tie, as he smooths it out, running his fingers down the fabric.

“I read your essay on the expectations of the courts and law versus the realities of it. I loved it. The argument using Gideon versus Wainwright to justify the existence of the right to counsel as a civil right and not a liberty was fascinating, especially considering your other arguments about how race, class and gender play into those realities. Well done. I thought it was some of your best work.”

Your face is flushed for a new reason now. Wasn’t this the same man who was mad at you for not paying attention?

“I thought so too.” You confess, and he just smiles. He loves that you’re confident in your work. You’ll make a great lawyer one day.

“Oh, and,” He digs through his leather satchel to pull out some notes, running his finger over the folder tab to make sure he has the right folder, “Here are the printed copy of our notes from the last few lectures.” It’s part of your accommodations that professors give you a copy.

“Thanks, Professor.” You smile gently, reaching out to take the papers. Your hands meet and as you grip the notes, the tips of your fingers just barely brush against his. Neither of you say anything. Neither of you let go.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He starts, “But you’re bright—Smarter than most of your professors, I bet. And I don’t want you to fall behind.” He says softly, and without saying it, you know he’s worried because of your hearing. He was disabled in law school once upon a time, and he recognizes your potential.

“It’s okay.” You say softly, softer than your voice usually is. “I get it, really. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He says gently, letting go of the papers now. As you clutch them close to your chest, his hand goes back up to mess with his tie again. Does he know what he’s doing? Does he know how wild it drives you? He must. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you on Thursday.” You agree, and that’s when you leave the classroom.

As the door closes behind you, he listens intently. He hears your nervous heartbeat, could practically feel the heat radiating off you. But he knows your routine by now. You’re about to start playing music, and he likes knowing what sort of mood you’re in as you leave his class.

A smile spreads across his face when he hears the opening notes of that new Hozier song, ‘Too Sweet’.

• • •

You are a straight A student. You study days in advance for exams, you write elaborate study guides and most of all, you do not miss class, unless you are dying (no, seriously, the last time you missed class you were rushed to the hospital, sick with pneumonia after a big exam, which you aced). So, when you’re not in Matt’s class on Thursday, he tries not to panic.

You’re a grown woman, he tells himself, and he doesn’t have an attendance policy, having told the class on syllabus day that he trusted them to know when to come to class and when they should go lay in the sun or stay home with a bad cold.

But you once came to class doped up on cold medicine with a mask on, just because you didn’t want to miss any important information. He heard it before you got to class, so he faked a family emergency to cancel class early that day. He could hear your rattled sigh of relief as the other students flooded out.

And he knows for a fact you didn’t show up today because of how fucking loud you are; You don’t mean to be, but he can hear the light buzzing of your hearing aids, and you wear these big work boots that stomp even when you’re trying to step lightly. And he heard neither buzzing nor stomps today.

Oh, your boots. He’s spent years with everything being too loud, but he just can’t help but think about the boots—What color were they? What were their texture? He has this fantasy that lives at the very back of his mind of putting you in heels, heels too big for anyone let alone a girl who only wears clunky work boots, that way he would have to help you, take care of you, and it is a fantasy that will probably live at the back of his mind until he dies.

Sure, he’d probably get married, settle down with someone his age and never worry if she might be dissatisfied with an older man, and she’ll be quiet. No hearing aids, no big boots. They’ll have kids, they’ll be happy together. He’ll still go to you when he can’t sleep, and no one will ever know.

Wait, what was he doing? Oh, right. You weren’t in class today.

His fingers move over the keyboard to look you up in the system. He clicks on the audio assistant to read him your information. It reads out your first and last name, middle initial, then your grade in his class (A+), your accommodations (Notes, time and a half, things like that), your birthday, and—

Wait, he takes a moment, and his fingers go over to his braille calendar, realizing that you’re taking a day off because it’s your birthday. A laugh escapes his lips, because how silly was he being?

His fingers move again to find your email address. He debates for a moment before adding the subject line, “Absence Today.” Then, he erases it and changes it to, “Class Today”, hoping you wouldn’t freak out before reading the email.

And just for a moment, he lets himself dream. He writes the following email to you,

“Hey, sweetheart—

Happy Birthday. I’m so happy you’re taking a break, you deserve it, more than anyone else I know. Are you doing something fun for it? Going out and getting wasted? Hooking up with some college guy who couldn’t fuck you properly?

If I could, my birthday gift to you would be a day spent with my face buried between your pretty thighs, although that might be a birthday gift to me and not to you. I’ve always been a selfish man, and you seem to be something I am entirely selfish about. I want your hands tangled in my hair, tugging on it as I taste you. I want you all to myself. I didn’t hear the buzzing of your hearing aids or the clunking of your boots, and I felt this striking yearning.

I can’t stand being around you without having you. It’s torture.

Happy Birthday,

Matthew.’

He thinks about it for a minute, before completely erasing the email, and sending you this one instead:

‘Missed you in class today! We went over the reading for Chapter Seven. Happy Birthday! Professor M’

He sends it, and then rubs his face, a long sigh leaving his lips. He is completely enamored by you, and it is so unfair.  You’d be in class on Monday, he told himself. He’d see you then, and it would be like getting his fix of you.

Then, he turns to the distraction of trying to grade papers. It won’t work. He’ll still have you on his mind all day, and there will be no relief in sleeping. Hopefully he’ll dream of that long day between your thighs.

• • •

Truth be told, you were not drinking and fucking some random guy when Matt emails you. You were cuddled up in bed, giggling and eating snacks, so many snacks, because, well, you took an edible with a bunch of your friends and now are high out of your mind.

Some animated shows are on in the background, and when your phone buzzes, you pick it up and almost melt when you see the email from your favorite professor. You start giggling like a kid, your fingers clutching your phone as you read the email over and over again.

One friend looks up to you from her place on your floor and asks, “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer at first, but then you nod, and pull your blanket close, imagining Matt’s arms around you. Your brain paints you a picture of him holding you against his chest and gently playing with your hair.

It’s a nice fantasy.

• • •

For being a law student, you really fucking hate it sometimes. Okay, that’s not true. You love being a law student and are so excited to go out into the world and make that difference. But you’d be lying if you don’t sort of contemplate dropping out and getting a sugar daddy over certain assignments.

Maybe Matt is in the market. Then you shake your head to get the thought out of there, before opening your laptop to check your professor’s office hours. The one that assigned this assignment is an old bat who does not have office hours except for during your other classes on Fridays.

Then, you look at Matt’s office hours. He has office hours right now. You click the pen in your hand a few times, thinking. Contemplating. Would he want to see you at this point? Would you be able to control yourself?

You give the question you’re working on one more time before you lean down and grab your boots, starting to lace them up. Then, you pack up your bag, heart beating nervously over what—Asking him for help with an assignment?

You make it all the way across campus, the whole time worried about if you’ll walk in on your professor with some other girl. You almost laugh at that thought, because you think you’re silly for how dramatic you are about the man.

You stand down the hallway from his office for a few minutes, just contemplating. You could just turn around and not at all open the possibility of being around him, and everything stays the same. Nothing changes, and your relationship with your professor maintains it’s strictly professional relationship.

You walk towards the door, knocking on it before holding your breath.

“Come on in,” He calls from behind the door. Now or never. You open the door, and smile in his direction.

“Hey, professor,” You greet, a soft smile on your face. His tie is loose around his neck. You blink away whatever daydream your brain wants to dive headfirst into.

“Hey,” He greets, “I don’t think you have any assignments due, so what’s up?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. As you think about it, you realize that you do not need help with an assignment.

“This is going to sound like a lie. But I had trouble with this assignment earlier, and suddenly I walked in here and realized I knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You explain, but you make no attempt to turn around and leave.

“Let me guess,” He starts, gauging by what year and academic proficiency you’re at, “Professor Reid’s estate planning class? That assignment about the will and testament of an old lady with a marriage less than 90 days and estranged kids?”

You groan and take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. He laughs in response, shaking his head.

“That old bat.” You roll your eyes. He just smiles and shakes his head.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to cheat on your final.” He tells you, and you give him a perplexed look.

“What?”

“Well, for the final, there’ll be a question about a super niche argument on inheritance. Just cheat on it.”

“You’re a professor, telling me to cheat?”

“I cheated on it,” He shrugs. You suddenly remember that he used to go to school here and has taken all the classes you’re struggling with right now.

“You’re being unprofessional.” You tell him, and he smiles again. Your heart skips a beat, and somehow, his smile grows. As if he knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you. As if this is all a game he likes to play with you, his eager and willing participant.

“Okay, forget that I told you to cheat on Reid’s exam. We have to talk about something, it would be awkward to just sit here in silence. Uh, what did you major in in undergrad?”

“English. I minored in Disability studies.”

“So why Law?” He asks curiously, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, before resting them on his desk. Jesus Christ.

“I’m tired of being poor.” The answer slips out before you can really stop yourself. He laughs again, and something in you stirs. As if making him laugh is the newest way you feel good about yourself. How twisted is that? “I’m being serious!” You laugh too, unable to contain it.

“I’m sure,” he promises, “I grew up poor too, I was sick of it too. But if you’re going to be a lawyer—”

“You need to have respect for the law and the people taken advantage by it,” You finish, “I get that, really, I do. And I want to help people. I want to go into divorce law and help all the poor and battered women like—” You’re forgetting yourself. You’re forgetting that this isn’t a date and that this man is your professor.

“Like..?” He prods you to finish, curious. He is on the edge of his seat about you. This is more than he has gotten of you in the past few weeks you’ve been taking his class.

“Like my mom.” You finish suddenly looking for something to do with your hands. Anything, really. “But the check that comes with it isn’t exactly deterring me, you know?”

“I get that,” he says earnestly, “I was an orphan, one of those dirty scrappy ones you feel bad for,” he does that half chuckle that makes you want to go over there and kiss him. “Never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was young. So, I get it. Being poor and wanting to do better for yourself. For your parent who sacrificed for you.”

But it clicks for him, the hidden meaning behind your ambitions. You have daddy issues, and he can tell that’s part of your crush on him. Though, he’ll never say it to you. He’ll let it be something unspoken between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess you do get it.” You smile softly. But this is dangerous. So so dangerous. The two of you are dancing this dangerous line—Well, more like you’re damn well dancing clear over the line and ignoring it. But you don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you don’t want to stop it.

“Well, uh, maybe you could finish that assignment while we’re here.” He clears his throat, straightening his tie and you try to connect the wires in your brain to focus on the assignment. You pull it out of your bag and place it on his desk, smoothing it out a bit. Matt gets up and starts to wander around the office, and you look at him curiously. “I think better when I can move around.”

You should’ve known that much, you have stared at him doing lectures, wandering from end to end of the rows and rows in the classroom.

“Yeah, totally,” You nod, focusing on the assignment. It’s on paper, the old bat refuses to use online assignments. You’re practically flying through the assignment, and it’s at the point where you are forgetting your company. In fact, you really don’t notice him.. Until you lean back and stretch, jumping when you realize that Matt has taken a spot right behind you, his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward. You’re practically leant up against him.

“See? Was that so hard?” Your face flushes, his voice right next to your ear. He has to know; he has to know how you’re affecting him. You tilt your head a bit, and your eyes are level with his chin. His stubble moves as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t smell much like anything… except the faintest hint of clean sheets and this slight scent of mahogany. It would go perfect with a whiff of whiskey.

“No,” you say quietly, and he almost shudders at the feeling of your warm breath against his cheek. “Not at all, Prof—”

“Call me Matt.” It’s almost begging. You’re kind of into it, but that’s not surprising given how incredibly attractive you find him.

“Okay.” You say quietly. He has reduced you to one-word answers. The two of you stay quiet for a while. You’re unsure what to say. Matt is contemplating his options. Anyone could walk in on the two of you like this. The door isn’t locked, and you want to bring this up, but the words die out in your throat. His head tilts a bit towards you, and you get a glimpse at those perfect lips of his.

“You know—” He starts, but before he can get any farther, you lean in and kiss him. You kiss him intensely, your hand on his cheek, and for once, you are not filled with regret at a bad decision. He doesn’t react at first, and for just a second, you’re nervous.

Then, He kisses you back, letting out this deep hum as he deepens the kiss. He tilts his head to get deeper into your mouth, and his hands make their way down to your hips. He focuses for a second, before wrapping his arms around you to pick you up and sitting you on his desk.

His hands trail down as the pair of you kiss, landing on your thighs. His fingers rub back and forth, and you gasp when he squeezes your thighs. He grins and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your clunky boots hit against his desk and he practically growls at the sound. He pulls away, his teeth biting your bottom lip as he does.

You’re completely out of breath, and so is he. He stumbles back a bit, his lips swollen and bright pink from kissing you. He wipes his mouth as he pants, and inhales deeply. You run your fingers through your hair, brushing the hair that has fallen onto your face.

“We..” he mumbled gently, running his hand over his chin. “Holy shit, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid—”

“Listen,” he goes over to you and brushes the hair from your face, “That was.. it was phenomenal, but someone could’ve walked in on that, and.. Fuck, if we do that again, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” he confesses, his hands on your cheeks.

“When I was staring off into space last week, I was thinking about your tie.” You tell him, your hands are finding the base of it now. He tilts his head, curiously.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Was daydreaming about it brushing against my face as you fuck me.” You could swear his face is red. You grin.

“Yeah?” He laughs, taking the tie from you and bringing the tie up to brush against your cheeks, “Like that?” he teases, and you laugh back. Dick.

“Mhm,” You giggle, and your hands find his, wrangling the tie out of his hands, and tugging on it, before bringing him in for another kiss. He inhales deeply as he kisses you, taking the taste of you in for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m serious, sweetheart, this is dangerous.”

“Sweetheart?” You grin. He takes your chin and grips it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey. Pay attention.” He says, and you want to argue that saying things in that low gravely tone will not help you pay attention, but you can tell he’s serious. That he wants your attention focused on him, this is important. “Listen. I like you. I like you a lot, but we have to be careful if we want any of this to go further. We have to be subtle and watch our steps.” He says softly.

“Okay.” You promise, “Okay, we should be careful.” He smiles gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Good pup.” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I like ‘pup’.” You like sweetheart too, but your stomach flips when he calls you pup.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He grins. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you said we have to be careful.”

“Okay, then I’ll give you my address and you can come over.” He shrugs. “I know how badly I need you, I can only imagine how you feel.” He hums, and you grin.

“Okay, Here, give me your phone.” Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You put your number in with your name, sending yourself a quick text before handing the phone back to him. “There. Send it to me.” He steps back so you can hop off the desk, before putting your homework back in your bag.

As you sling your bag over your shoulder, he grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you close, just to kiss you again.

• • •

Your hands are shaking as you drive over to Matt’s apartment. You’re so full of desire for him, and you take a second after parking the car to adjust your hair and makeup. Luckily you had no plans with your friends so it’s not like you’re hiding anything from anyone.

Are you about to sleep with the professor you’ve had a crush on since the beginning of the semester? Hopefully. You take a quick glance down to the apartment number he sent you before climbing out of the car, locking it behind you.

Then, you manage your way through the building, finding yourself in front of his door for the second time tonight. You hesitate. Though, you’re not sure why. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you’re terrified that this is going to be bad. Or maybe that you’re scared you’ll be bad, and he’ll hate you.

Maybe you just need to get over yourself. Although, you can’t really do much more convincing because Matt swings open the door and grins at you. You almost die at the sight of him. His tie is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned by three buttons.

“You’re so hot,” You blurt out as you hand him a cheap bottle of wine you picked up on the way here.

“You’re cute,” he hums, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the apartment, leaving you giggling as he closes the door behind you. You look around his apartment, your eyes catching on the giant billboard. You’re standing in front of the window when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips gently kiss your neck, up and down, biting your shoulder gently. “Enamored by the billboard, sweetheart?”

“Your windows are so big, probably a lot of light in here during the day.” You say softly, and he smiles against your neck.

“Mhm, one day, I’ll fuck you against those windows—”

“Matt,” You groan, but he just shushes you and kisses your neck again.

“I know, pup,” He hums, “But don’t worry, I’ll show you a very nice time, hear all those pretty noises you can make for me.” You blush, turning to say something to him but he wraps his arms around your waist again, before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. You’re laughing all the way there, before throwing you onto the bed.

“Mean.” You accuse, but he shrugs.

“You’ll get over it, sweetheart, I promise.” He hums, and you sit up on his bed. He stands between your legs, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hands finding your cheeks again. He kisses you like this for a few minutes, before slowly kneeling in front of you, never breaking the increasingly sloppy kiss. You pull away from the kiss to study him. He tilts his head, his hands finding your thighs to rub them again as he did in the office. “What?” he asks gently.

“I spent all those lectures only being able to study you from a far.. Just let me really look at you for a while..” You request. He grins gently as your fingers run over his stubble again. Your hands move up to his glasses. “Can I take these off?” You request, tilting your head.

Matt hesitates, just for a second. He’s not really used to it, to someone truly wanting to see him, every part of him. But he trusts you, wants you to see him. So he nods, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ as you pull off those circular red glasses, gently folding them and setting them down somewhere safe.

Then, you take a good, long look at his eyes. They’re this deep brown, almost black, irises that are drop dead gorgeous. The skin around his eyes is scarred, but the scars are old, yet, you rub your thumb gently against that scarred skin. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his eyes, first the left one, then the right one.

He leans up and kisses you after that, his hands slowly making their way down your legs. Your hands find his buttons of his shirt starting to undo them. He pulls away from the kiss, before slipping off his button up, throwing it away somewhere in the room. Your eyes drift down to these scars on his collarbones, and your fingers run over them. Then, you notice other scars on his skin, and your hands find those too.

“Your boots are so loud,” he hums, and you’re taken back by it.

“What?”

“Your boots.” He hums, “I hear you stomping around with these things on, they’re.. Like a bell, you know? I like knowing you’re around.” His fingers go down to the laces of your left boot, slowly untying them. Then, he does the same with the right boot.

He pulls off your boots, before running his fingers over your socks.

“They’re multicolored. Bright and patterned.” You confess, and he grins, before pulling them off. Then, he stops, realizing you have another pair of socks on. He blinks, before starting to laugh.

“You have two pairs of socks on?” he chuckles, your face flushing.

“My boots are just a little too big!” You tell him, and he laughs, resting his head against your thigh. He finishes taking your socks off, before working on the buttons of your jeans. When he finally gets those undone, he pulls off your pants, throwing them somewhere close to his now abandoned shirt. His hand comes up to rub you through your panties, and he lets out a scoff as he does.

“So wet for me, pup..” He mumbles, coming up to gently kiss your cheeks and then your jaw, as you whine. “I know, baby, I know,” he says softly, rubbing your clit gently. You whine gently at the feeling, gripping his wrist. He chuckles softly, kissing you to shut you up a bit.

He pulls his hand away from your throbbing cunt to pull off your tee shirt, throwing it wherever. He starts to kiss you as you fiddle with the buttons of his pants and pull them off, letting him step out of the before he casts them away.

You grin into the kiss, before he pulls away.

“What? What’s got you so giddy, pup?” he asks, a grin on his face too.

“Briefs,” You hum, fiddling with the waistband of his briefs, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Thinking about your professor’s underwear?” He teases, leaning in to bite your neck. “Dirty, dirty girl.” He grins, and you swat at his shoulder, which causes him to laugh. He likes having fun with you, even if it’s not inherently sexual.

His hands come up to run gently over your skin, trailing from your hands up to your shoulders, and then all the way to your ears, where his fingers gently run over your hearing aids. It’s a nice gesture, really, but as soon as his fingers brush over your hearing aids, you immediately retract, the feedback shooting through your skull, uncomfortably.

“Ow—” You cringe, leaning your head back to try and get away from his fingers. He cringes, hearing the feedback, not as badly as you do but knowing it’s there and that you’re in pain pains him.

“I’m sorry,” he coos softly, his fingers moving down to cup your jaw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I hadn’t realized—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” You hum, tilting your head to kiss his palm gently. “It happens, It’s why you should never touch them while I have them on.” You shrug. He leans down and kisses your stomach a bit, before going back to kiss you again, deepening the kiss a bit before roughly shoving you back on the bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his legs, as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. He kisses you with passion and need, and it drives you entirely too wild. As he pulls away, one hand comes up to grip your chin, before he leans down with his head against yours.

“Want me to fuck you, pretty thing?” He asks gently, his voice sweet as honey as he talks so obscenely to you. You whine, finally getting what you want after weeks and months of waiting. He just smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, puppy, you gotta say it to me.” He requests.

“Yes, I want you..” You groan, bucking your hips a bit at the thought of him finally fucking you.

“Want me to do what?” he asks, innocently.

“Want you to fuck me, please..” You request, and this finally seems to satisfy him. His hand comes down to unhook your bra, throwing it behind him with the rest of your clothes, before his lips begin to travel downwards, kissing down your jaw and neck, before he’s kissing the valley of your breasts, his hand going down to rub your clit again.

He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wetness soaking through your underwear and listening to your moans. His hands begin to work to take off your panties, and as soon as those are gone, your hands come up to his briefs, wanting them gone.

“Off, off, off—” You huff, and he laughs as he slips them off. Then, he reaches over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, but you grab his hand, shaking your head, “No, no—I’m on the pill, promise.”

“You sure?” He asks gently, and you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Sure.” You nod, and then you’re kissing him again, your hand going down to stroke his cock, and he gasps into the kiss, before chuckling. He pulls away to mutter out to you--

“Needy girl,” he purrs, before moving to kiss you again. As you’re kissing, he slips his cock into you, and you moan into the kiss, tensing at the feeling, “Relax for me, pup.. So fucking tight for me.” He groans, his hand coming down to swat your thigh. “Relax.” He tells you, his voice sterner this time.

You nod, trying to form a more conscious thought than the pure bliss you feel, your hands wrapping around his neck, scratching down his back a bit. He groans softly, as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He is using every ounce of self-control he has, resisting the urge to absolutely violate you.

But he’s trying to be gentle, be nice.

“Faster,” You gasp out, your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He does that half chuckle, and it makes you whine as he begins to speed up.

“Beautiful little pup..” he says lowly, “Been staring at me.. Wanting your professor so badly these past few weeks, dirty little thing,” he hums, “Fuck, so.. fuck..” Your legs are beginning to shake the longer and harder he thrusts into you. “So fucking good for me..” You whine into his lips as they crash into yours, one hand going down to rub your clit gently, the stimulation too much for someone who hasn’t had sex this good, ever, but especially because you haven’t had sex at all in the past.. well, six or more months.

“Matty, ‘m..” You can barely get the words out as he fucks you harder,

“I know baby, come on, cum for me, pup,” he coos, his thrusts nor rubbing slowing down, maintaining his pace. Within a minute, you’re coming with loud moans into his ears, and he’s following suit shortly after, coming deep inside you.

But for the few minutes after the two of you finish, he continues his thrusting, relishing in the pretty moans and the sound of his deep thrusts into you. Eventually, he slows down, remaining deep inside of you. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply before flipping the pair of you over, and holding your legs close to stay buried deep inside of you.

For a few minutes, there are no words spoken, just deep, frantic pants and sweaty skin against each other.

“You know, that was as good as I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.” You pant, “Better, even..” He laughs and nods.

“Me too..” he kisses you softly. “Let me take you out somewhere.”

“I thought we had to be careful..”

“We’ll go away somewhere then. Just the two of us for the weekend. I need to be with you, I can’t get enough of you now that I’ve had a taste.. Besides, I haven’t even eaten you out. Now that, that is going to be fun.” He grins, and you swat his arm.

“Evil, mean man!” You gasp, and he just laughs, kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry, pup, let me make it up to you,” he hums.

“How?”

“Calling you pup a few times, ordering Thai food and teaching you how to suck me off?”

“I know how to suck you off,” You scoff.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, leaning in to kiss him. Then, lips still against yours, he whispers, “Prove it, pretty puppy.”

[littlejuicebox]

Dadstarion prompt (sorry if I missed the boat on this!) - insecure postpartum Tav, struggling with their new body. Maybe some body worship from Astarion 👀? (Personal experience - I really struggled postpartum with adjusting to my new body, it changed in ways I never even imagined). Thank you and just want to say I love your Astarion 🥰

Adore You

Thanks for your request! Not 100% sure this is what you were looking for, but I already had a mostly finished piece I was working on that definitely fits the body-worship and Tav struggling with her body parts of this prompt. It's smut, though, and when the smut gods bless, I cannot deny their gifts.

Glad you love my Astarion! I adore him. And he adores his Tav. ;)

Summary: You are struggling with your post-partum body. Astarion is here to remind you that he still adores you.

This follows my Dadstarion section of my AstarionxReader series. But no worries, you can read it as a OneShot. Here’s the gist: Astarion is mortal and you have three children together. Gale, named after the Wizard of Waterdeep and the twins. That’s about all you need to know! See my other fics for more info and storylines.

Tags/Warnings: smut with a plot, body image issues, angst w/ comfort, PiV, fingering, oral, light overstim, light daddy kink, breast milk, breast milk drinking, all the depravity i'm generally known for tbh, light creampie kinda?

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: I'm an unhinged degenerate and no I won't apologize. Also women’s bodies are amazing and can produce life and are beautiful and my Astarion appreciates that about his Tav okay?

“Thank the gods for the nanny,” Astarion says with a dramatic sigh as he enters the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, “Gale was about to make me read ‘P is for Peacock’ a third time and I was close to ripping my hair out, darling.” 

You chuckle softly as your husband greets you from where you’re seated at the vanity with a brief kiss and then moves to the small table in the corner of your bedroom to pour himself a goblet of wine. 

“And the twins?” He asks as his eyes watch the red liquid fall into the cup beneath it. He takes a few sips as you speak before setting the cup back down on the table.

“I’ve just fed them not too long ago and now they’re both asleep. Having Winifred to help me get them on the same schedule has been wonderful.” You respond as your husband nods and prepares a second, smaller goblet of wine, which he brings to you.

He settles himself beside you while you finish braiding your hair for bed and hums contentedly, “Perfect.”

Astarion’s hands wrap around your midsection and before you can stop yourself, you feel your body tense under his touch. The silver-haired elf pauses and frowns before retracting his hands, “Do you not want me to touch you, darling? You need only tell me.” 

You sigh and shrug as you finish off the half-portioned goblet in one long drink, mostly to avoid your husband’s gaze,  “It’s not that, it’s— it’s stupid.” 

“Look at me, little love.” He whispers, his fingers coming under your chin as they gently coax you to face him and meet his gaze. He moves forward and presses a soft kiss against your lips before continuing, “I love you. More than anything. You know this. Now, won’t you tell me whatever is the matter so that I can help?”

Your husband waits as you gather your thoughts. It’s complicated, it’s embarrassing. You know it’s silly, and vain, and yet you can’t help yourself. And you aren’t quite sure how to verbalize it all.

“I hate my body.” You finally say, your voice cracking as you speak, and something about finally saying that evil little thought aloud causes tears to spring in your eyes. 

Astarion’s mouth falls open in surprise and then he furrows his brows and quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, not knowing what to say or do apart from physically enveloping you in his love. 

You continue on, speaking into his neck, sniffling as a few more tears run down your cheeks, “After Gale, I quickly returned to my previous weight. I hadn’t had any stretch marks. But carrying the twins— it’s different, Astarion. And I was expecting it to an extent but I just— I hate my body and I hate the way I look.” 

There is a moment of silence as your husband simply holds you against him, allowing space for your tears. When he speaks, his voice is a soft murmur into your hair, “Not that you should care what I think, but I adore your body, darling. And I love everything about the way you look.” 

You scoff and withdraw from your husband with teary, reddened eyes narrowed at him, “You have to say that.”

“I do not have to do anything,” He retorts, arching his eyebrow in a challenge, “Weren’t you the one that taught me that?” 

When you don’t respond, Astarion continues on, knowing he’s won. He takes your hand in his, gently lifting it to press a kiss against your knuckle. 

“I adore your hands. Which have both slain monsters and soothed our children,” He whispers before trailing kisses up your arm and to your neck where he presses another reverent kiss against those little fang scars. 

“I adore your neck, which once provided me with sustenance I hadn’t known in centuries.” 

Your face is beginning to grow hot under his devoted attention and compliments, and you move to shrink away from your husband, but he gently grabs you by the waist. He leans into you and brushes his nose at the meeting point between your ear and neck as he inhales the smell of your skin. 

“Why are you trying to hide from me, darling?” He asks with a little sulky pout, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“I’m not, I—“ You begin, but Astarion quickly shushes you. 

“Then just be quiet and let me adore you, hm?” He asks before running his tongue against those fang marks, making you shiver. 

You nod slightly and your husband grins, “Good girl. Now, come here.” 

Astarion pats his lap and you slide to sit upon his thighs, forgetting your finished goblet on the floor underneath your vanity stool. He rests his chin upon your shoulder as the two of you gaze in the mirror together. 

“Do you remember when I used to do this all the time?” Astarion asks, not truly waiting for a response before his long fingers trace down the side of your neck, brush along your collarbone, and then wander toward your waist, aiming to untie your dressing gown. He moves slowly and watches your expression in the mirror, waiting for you to give him any indication to stop. 

But you didn’t want him to stop. Despite your feelings about your body, you still deeply crave your husband’s comforting touch. 

The silky fabric slips down your shoulders and pools around your waist, baring you before his adoring eyes. The elf smiles and presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, still watching the two of you in the mirror. 

“Beautiful,” He whispers as he peppers a few kisses up your shoulder and the back of your neck, igniting a trail of goosebumps across your skin.

Astarion slowly drifts his hands up your sides before moving to cup a heavy, milk-stretched tit in each hand. The sensation causes you to wriggle. 

His tone is reverent, almost a whisper as he turns his head just slightly and flashes a toothy grin, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, “I adore your breasts, which have fed our eldest and now feed our twins.”

He chuckles salaciously before saying the next part, “And which, on more than one delicious occasion, have also fed me.”

Your husband lightly teases circles around your nipples as he finishes the line that he knows will cause you to blush and then gently nips at your ear lobe, earning him a gasp. You feel Astarion’s arousal pressing into your backside as he continues to caress your breasts and uses two fingers from each hand to tease and stimulate your nipples. You arch into his touch and your thighs press together as you feel a growing slickness between your legs from his attentions. 

One of your breasts begins to leak milk, and when your husband feels the warm liquid dripping onto his fingers he hums and brings the digits to his lips. You watch in the mirror as Astarion dips the two fingers into his own mouth and licks them clean while continuing to tease your other breast. 

It isn’t long before that one begins leaking, too, and your lover chuckles in delight as he watches the liquid gold trail down the bottom of your breast and languidly drip down your stomach. 

The elf brings two fingers to slowly swipe up the stream of white liquid. Then he brings those same fingers to your lips, prompting you to open your mouth.

“Good girl,” He purrs before pressing those two digits against your tongue. Astarion lingers for a moment and you shut your eyes as you eagerly wrap your lips around his slender fingers and suck. You hear a little hum by your ear and feel your lover’s cock twitch in delight underneath you as he observes the scene.

“You are a vision, love.” He murmurs, as he slides his hand away from your lips, “Now, let me take care of you the way you deserve.”

The elf gestures for you to stand, causing your robe to completely slide off your body into a pool on the floor, before he quickly spins you and then hoists you onto the vanity desk. The smallest flicker of that arrogant rogue dances across his face as Astarion moves forward to dip his tongue into your mouth. He unhurriedly teases your tongue against his as he roams his hands up and down your torso until you're panting and moaning softly into his mouth. 

When he retracts, his pupils are filled with lust. His hands come to quickly pull his shirt over his head and then undo the laces of his trousers. Before long he’s standing in front of you in only his small clothes. 

Astarion grabs your hand and guides it to the bulge straining between his legs as he asks, “Do you feel what that divine body of yours does to me, little love?” 

“Yes– my love, I want–” You begin as you eagerly try to delve your hand inside your husband’s undergarments, desperate to free his gorgeous cock. But he catches your wrist and stops you with a soft tut and a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Soon. But not yet, darling. I haven’t quite finished adoring you yet. And I’ve got the best seat in the house.” He teases, before settling himself back onto the vanity bench and grinning mischievously up at you, “Now, be a good girl and open those beautiful, plush thighs of yours for me, won’t you?” 

You oblige, and Astarion takes a moment to admire you, fully barren to him and already soaked with arousal. His arms come under your knees, spreading you wider for him, as he grips your thighs with his hands. Then he turns and begins pressing tender kisses up your thigh. He makes slow work of the task, humming contentedly on his journey toward your sex and always lingering longer in the spots where you’ve developed stretch marks. 

By the time his face is right in front of your mound, you’re positively leaking for Astarion and he groans appreciatively at the sight. 

“Beautiful. I will never tire of seeing that gorgeous cunt dripping for me, darling,” He murmurs and before you can respond, your husband is delving his tongue between your folds and eagerly feasting upon your juices. 

You moan in delight when Astarion brings his tongue to trace around your clit, so familiar with your preferences that it doesn’t take long for him to coax you toward your peak. His tongue dances expertly around the swollen nub, each pass causing your pleasure to build. Two of his long, pale fingers slide into you, meeting no resistance, and he slowly pumps the digits in and out of your walls. 

You grasp onto Astarion’s curls and whine when he adds a third finger, and he knows you’re close, so he continues his ministrations and adds more pressure as he curls his fingers just so. His other hand comes up to find your nipple and tease it between his fingers as you climb the final steps toward your climax. 

A final flick of Astarion’s tongue, a final stroke of his fingers, and you burst with pleasure, whining in delight as your thighs tremble on either side of his head. Your walls spasm and send another gush of arousal onto the elf’s face. You begin leaking breast milk once again. 

“Delicious,” Your husband murmurs as he pulls back slightly to admire the glistening of your sex and then presses forward and takes one more lap of your sensitive folds, causing you to buck into his mouth as he chuckles against you. Astarion languidly runs his tongue up to your stomach, lapping at the thin rivulets of milk running down your torso and covering his face in a shiny layer of your juices and breast milk.

Then he stands to his full height and finally— finally— steps out of his small clothes. His pale cock springs proudly from its confinement, dripping thin strings of pre-come from the reddened tip, just for you. 

“Get over here, Astarion,” You eagerly demand, voice hoarse from your cries as you hook your legs around his torso and pull him against you. 

“Anything for my little love,” Your husband responds, voice full of gravel as he runs the underside of his cock against your slit, using it to lubricate his length. 

And then the head of his cock presses into you and your mouth falls open as Astarion buries himself to the hilt. His thumb comes to lightly tease your still-tender clit as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. He’s watching your face intently as he thumbs circles around that needy, engorged bundle of nerves. 

You use your legs to pull the elf deeper and he grins before lowering his head so that it’s right by your ear. He takes the lobe in his mouth and suckles gently, causing you to whimper.

“You’ll do one more for me, won’t you darling? You always look so gorgeous when you do.” He coaxes, his mouth so close to your ear his breath tickles the sensitive flesh. And then he’s pitching his hips just slightly, aiming to hit your favorite spot with the tip of his cock. He’s gasping and grunting now as his own need for release starts to overpower him.

You’re almost there. You’re keening with each thrust from Astarion and your walls are clenching tighter and tighter around his cock. 

He moans in response at the sensation before pressing his thumb harder against your clit and rubbing it with single-minded intensity, working you toward release. You begin to relentlessly whimper again and Astarion smiles, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches your face contort in the feeling of immense pleasure.

 “There you go, little love. Let go for daddy.” He whispers, bringing his other hand to palm the ample flesh of your ass. 

And gods, you do. 

The second orgasm ripples through you harder than the first, and you have to clasp your hand around your mouth to stifle your moan. Your walls are pulsing around your lover’s cock as you ride the wave of ecstasy.

You go almost slack and before long Astarion is ripping your hand away from your face and pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss as he begins to rut wildly into you, shaking the vanity with every thrust. 

“Gods, the things your body does to me,” He growls as he pulls away from your lips, snapping his hips at a punishing pace as he chases his own release. Astarion’s hand is clutching firmly into your bottom, gripping so tightly there’s sure to be bruising tomorrow. His curls fall in front of his face and his ears begin to turn red as he continues to fuck you into oblivion.

Your husband is trying with every fiber of his being to hold on, to stretch out the delicious sensation of his cock plunging in and out of your walls, but every stroke into your tightness is pushing him further and further towards his peak. He snaps his eyes shut, shaking with the effort it’s taking him to restrain himself, to continue enjoying the feeling of your flesh gripping around his.

You are so thoroughly fucked that you cannot do anything but hold onto your lover and keen underneath him as he continues pounding into you.

 “Darling— hells — my love, you’re so tight, I can’t— I’m—“ 

And then with a sudden, sharp inhale of breath, Astarion is burying his thick length inside your walls and trembling as his cock twitches, relentlessly releasing its spend. He gasps into your ear as he slows his hips, but continues to rut, using his still-hard length to press his seed deeper into you. 

His praises come out in an incoherent string as he continues to languidly rock his hips back and forth. You cup his face in your hands as you kiss him, and Astarion smiles into the kiss, finally stilling his hips as his cock softens between you two. 

“Come here, little love.” He whispers, hooking his arms underneath you. You intuitively wrap your legs around your husband’s torso and he easily carries you to the bathroom. When he finally places you down, he brushes a few strands of hair from your face and then places a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He says, turning to start the tap before tossing a glance over his shoulder and chuckling lightly, “And then I have to fix your braid, dear… I’m sorry to tell you that I ruined it.” 

“I think you might have also bruised my ass,” You respond, turning to flash your bottom at Astarion. 

He drops down on his knees to examine the curve of your ass, one nimble finger brushing against the blooming blue marks. You let out a little whine in response, the flesh still tender. 

Astarion presses his lips onto the bruise and lingers for a moment. Then he pulls away and frowns slightly, eyes glossing across the marks before he looks up at you and says, “I’m sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay,” You respond, glancing back to grin over your shoulder. You see your husband peering up at you, the picture of devotion, “I enjoyed it.” 

“Did you, now?” He asks with an amused smirk, his eyebrow cocking in that signature arrogant way of his. 

You nod just slightly as he places another kiss against those little bruises. His hands travel up your thighs, brushing against the wetness dripping from your sex and onto your legs. Two fingers tenderly stroke between your drenched slit. 

“Hmm, and what do we have here, little love? Is this something else that needs cleaning? Won’t you let me take a look?”

You blush but oblige anyway, leaning forward over the counter and exposing your sex, leaking with Astarion’s seed and your arousal. 

He grins and licks a long strip between your folds, causing you to buck slightly and whimper at the stimulation on your still-sensitive cunt. 

“Too sensitive? Want me to stop?” He asks gently from behind you, one hand wrapped around your thigh.

“No, keep going.” You urge him, bending forward to further reveal yourself to him, eager to feel his skilled tongue pressed into you once more. 

A small groan of appreciation from your husband is all you hear before he delves his tongue back between your legs, working to clean up the mess he made. 

The bathtub overflows and spills water onto the floor before he’s done adoring you. At least for tonight.

[charlottecutepie]

ᡣ𐭩 His least favourite colour (Michael Afton x fem!reader)

Summary: Teenage Michael has a messy mullet that he cut himself and a piercing on his lower lip that he did the hell knows where. But he's dressed like a rock star: a black leather jacket and ripped jeans, a million chains, only a guitar is missing, and you already know what his birthday present will be.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, romantic elements, Michael is flirty and weird, 1980s, abusive William, daddy issues, mentions of death, psychology, little bit of fluff, traumatized Michael, Michael has a mullet

Michael is the first kid in the Afton family. Michael grew up surrounded by the love of his mother, but never of his father. Since he was born, William has shown no affection for him. And little boy never understood why, if he seemed to have everything William wanted. After all, he was very interested in mechanics and robotics, he always begged his father to show him how he creates these wonders of technology. But William, being a disgusting father, never did this, refused to do it. When Elizabeth was born, Michael was initially happy that he had a sister. The young man always took care of her and played with her until he noticed that his father behaved way differently with her than with him.

And it caused him heartache. He watched them and didn't understand why he didn't deserve the same. And his mother, as it seemed to him, cared about the little girl more than about him. That's what offended Michael the most: he felt as if his mother had replaced him with Elizabeth, all the toys were bought just for her, all her whims were fulfilled in one second, she was never even punished. Is that even fair?

That's when his youthful maximalism manifested itself. Michael started running away from home and skipping classes. And he knew perfectly well that William didn't like it, and he was doing it to spite him, trying to get revenge for horrible treatment.

But it only made it worse for Michael, because he was always caught and punished, or worse, his most beloved game console was taken away. William began to apply more and more punishments to him, taking away pocket money or grounding him for the whole weekend. But most of all, Michael never understood his mother: why did she let all this happen? Why did she always turn a blind eye to what her husband was doing?

“Does your father know that you smoke?” you ask, giving him a light. Michael puts his hands in his pockets and shakes his head. You're both not dating, but you're pretty close to it. You met at some rock concert where some random guy was trying to molest you, and Michael punched him right in the face, breaking his nose. It was in front of everyone's eyes, and after that, Michael was finally noticed by a group of "cool" teenagers. You didn't like them because they were nothing more than bullies, but Michael never listened to you.

“Does your mom know who you're so pretty for?”

“You fool.” you smile and roll your eyes. Michael may be a fool, but he always manages to embarrass you with his stupid flirts.

Teenage Michael has a messy mullet that he cut himself and a piercing on his lower lip that he did the hell knows where. But he's dressed like a rock star: a black leather jacket and ripped jeans, a million chains, only a guitar is missing, and you already know what his birthday present will be.

…

Michael got used to Elizabeth because you putted into his head that it wasn't her fault, and she's just a kid like himself. It's the fault of his parents, who don't know how to give equal love to both, the fault of his idiotic dad, who thinks he can raise his son by beating him. Michael agreed with you, and the two of you never talked about it again.

“Did you get into a fight again?” you're like a mom to him and at the same time already a girlfriend. “What kind of kindergarten is this?”

“It wasn't me, they started it.” Michael's kindergarten will probably never leave him. “What? I'm telling the truth!”

He's sitting in your kitchen eating hot soup like he's been starving for ages. You know that's not true, but his diet is really terrible, all those snacks and sodas, why is it so hard to eat normal food? And Michael told you why. Because his father went so far as not to allow his son to have lunch or breakfast with family. William only allowed his wife and Elizabeth to sit at the same table with him, but as soon as he sees Michael, he points to the door, like, "get the hell out of here." And when Michael later comes to the kitchen to eat, William pours all the remaining food into the toilet in front of him.

…

Michael's eyes are so wide and huge after the news that his mother is pregnant with another, third child. He doesn't know how to react, in panic he runs to your house and tells you about it. You didn't understand much yourself, but you tried to assure him that maybe this third child would be a turning point. Maybe after he's born, William will change. But you don't believe yourself.

How sad that you were wrong. Evan gets more attention than even Elizabeth, but however she doesn't mind. Unlike Michael, she runs around the baby all day, trying to entertain him. Evan likes his sister's company, but when Michael arrives, something clicks in the little boy's head, and he becomes quiet, not talkative, as if Michael scares him. But in fact, Evan is more afraid of his brother and William's argues than Michael himself. And when these turn into fights, Evan becomes hysterical and runs to hide in the closet of his room. William is well aware that Michael started showing his fangs a long time ago, but when he says something to him in an aggressive tone or slams the door too loudly, the man can't help himself.

“Michael, don't you dare bully Evan.” you're mad at your boyfriend because he came to you with his proud face again as he made his little brother cry again. “God, how many times have I explained to you, this is a kid. You're only ruining his psyche!”

Michael just clenches his teeth and his fists. He's as angry as you are, of course he knew you wouldn't pat him on the head for it, but why are you protecting this pathetic boy?

Michael hates his father, he is angry that he cannot respond to his reproaches and provocations like a "real man", so he takes out all his aggression on Evan. Michael is a coward.

…

Michael cries, punches the walls and swears at himself. He couldn't forgive his father for killing his sister, but what Michael never thought about was that it would happen to Evan, too. With fucking Evan. Who could have even known that Fredbear’s jaw would shut?! Michael couldn't move as he watched the little child's head being torn apart. He heard that hideous, ugly sound of a skull splitting, which still haunts him in nightmares.

In his nightmares, he runs to save Evan, to pull him out of the animatronic's grip, but he can't do anything. He fails because his father holds his hand tightly enough that Michael feels a phantom touch when he wakes up. William holds his wrist and laughs, preventing him from saving his brother, while Evan dies for the hundredth time. This is repeated every night.

Michael is no longer a rock star. Michael is depressed and needs psychological help.

Michael cut off his idiotic mullet and threw out all his leather jackets with ripped jeans, took off his piercings. But at least now Michael has the guitar you gave him for his birthday. That one is now lying dusty in the corner of his room, where Michael never goes. He just stopped showing up at his father's house, yes, not at his house, but at his father's house. Because this was never Michael's house.

Michael still smiles only at you and tries to make stupid flirts, but they don't bother you anymore. Instead, they are disturbing, worrying you.

Michael has lost everyone except you.

“When I die, I'm sure you'll be my devil in hell. Know why? Because you're hella hot, baby.“ Michael makes a sound like laughter.

You're trying to put on your face something like a smile.

Michael is so young, and he's already joking about death. But Michael wouldn't joke about death if he wasn't already dead.

Michael died in 1983. He died after his sister and brother.

“You're going to marry me, right? When we get out of here and move to another state.” There's uncertainty in his voice.

“Of course.” you don't believe him, of course not. “I love you very much.” you hold him close to you, stroke his hair and try your best to hope that everything will be fine.

…

Michael loves to kiss you, hug you, cuddle, rub his nose against yours, lying in your bed. Michael's body is still warm, that means he's still alive. Michael still has a headache, he can still bleed, he can still catch a cold, he still has an appetite. Michael is still alive, and that's all that matters to you.

Michael prefers not to tell where his mother disappeared, he just says that she divorced William immediately after Elizabeth's death. Yes, she divorced William and left her own son with this monster, Michael still thinks it's impossible. He's just scared to think differently, he's afraid, so he makes it up to make it easier.

“You're going to love me even if I’ll smell like a piece of shit, right?“ Michael is weird. He asks you about it almost every day, even though he never smells bad.

“Michael, my love,” you know you have to be kind to him, no matter what idiotic questions he asks. You really love him very much, but sometimes these questions take you by surprise. “even if you turn into a living walking corpse, I’ll still love you.”

Michael chuckles, his nightmares telling otherwise.

…

Michael has grown up, now he works as a night guard. He hates his job, but he can't tell you why he's working there. He just makes excuses by saying that he gets paid a lot of money.

It's Michael's stupid habit of keeping everything inside. You know that's not the reason, you know there's something wrong with your boyfriend, but as soon as he comes home early in the morning, exhausted, you don't dare ask him anything.

Michael hates purple colour.

Sometimes you feel like you're distancing from each other because he disappears all night at work and then sleeps at home all day. But you still love him very much and hope that one day you will both get married. But Michael begs you, in case of a wedding, not to wear a purple dress. Any colour, but not purple.

You're starting to worry about Michael's physical health. Michael refuses to eat and kiss. Michael wears more oversized clothes, even though it's damn hot outside. Michael says he's going to sleep in the other room on the couch. One night you try to check if Michael is really asleep.

No, he's not.

Michael hides his face from you and doesn't go out much. Michael doesn't shower, he doesn't even wash his hands.

All of this scares you, you don't understand what happened to your boyfriend. These sudden changes happened too quickly. You try to talk to him, but Michael's voice sounds strange. He doesn't even turn his head when he talks to you.

The smell in the house is becoming more and more terrible, almost unbearable. You've already thrown out all the garbage, done the general cleaning, even poisoned non-existent insects.

You can't take it anymore, so you're trying to clear it up. When Michael comes home, you're already standing in the hallway waiting for him. Your boyfriend is surprised, he hides his face in a mask and tries to sneak into another room.

“Darling, stop avoiding me, please!” you try approach him, hug him. Michael pulls away. You notice that the smell comes from him, not from the house. “What's been going on with you lately?”

Michael is tired of living like this, avoiding you. He wants to feel your touch again, wants to kiss you, wants to go back to bed with you, wants to cook with you, wants to dream with you about your future wedding. Which will never happen.

“Promise me you won't run away.” his voice is scary, sounds like a robotic one. You nod. And that's when Michael finally takes off these damn clothes, takes off his… wig, sunglasses and mask. He opens his soul to you again, if he still has it, of course.

You don't really know how to comment on what's in front of you. It's Michael, but at the same time it's not him. It's a skeleton covered in skin. He has no teeth, there’s terrifying white pupils burn in his empty eye sockets.

“I can't believe it's you... what... what even happened?” you're surprised you can say anything at all after such a shock.

He's not answering. His dead white pupils pierce into yours, alive ones. Michael does hates purple and how cruelly life has treated him, painting his skin this cadaverous color.

“I smell like a piece of shit, right?” Michael tries to smile, even though he doesn't have to try. His jaw was permanently frozen in a deadly grin. “Y/n… You remember what you told me, right?”

You nod. “Even if you turn into a living walking corpse, I’ll still love you.” you remember and dont give up your words.

“I still love you, Michael.” as sad as it may sound, but it’s truth, you really love Michael and you can't imagine life without him. “I… I promise I will never leave you.”

Michael sighs with relief. You finally want to hug him, but he pulls away again and waves his hand as a sign that he smells like a corpse. You don't care, you've been through too much in the last few days, and now you just want to feel his body next to you again, even if it's fucking smelly and cold. You pull him closer and try not to breathe. You get a shock from yourself because you're hugging a literally dead person. But there is only one thing…

Michael didn’t die right now, he died back in 1983.

[asterias-record-shop]

BINGO: Mommy kink, Ethan Landry. Prompt 14. Reader is just having their way with Ethan who keeps cumming and keeps getting hard

—𓆩[the perfect virgin]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Sub! Ethan Landry x Dom! Mommy! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.9K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You were originally attracted to Ethan because he looked like a boy who had never been touched by a woman - ever. Your corruption kink was going haywire, and it was the main reason why you pursued him before you got way too attached to his stupid nerdy personality and his utter obliviousness to anything that has to do with sex, so you decide to put him to a… test of sorts.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - kind of mean/teasing reader || mommy kink || cursing & foul language || tit worship || reader wears revealing clothing & makeup || reader could be described as a nympho? || vibrators || virginity loss (Ethan) || attempt at lactation || breast milk production without being pregnant (it can happen, hormones are a thing and can be caused by constant nipple and breast stimulation) || in turn, lactation kink || oral || grinding || riding || breeding kink || multiple orgasms || unprotected sex || multiple positions || maybe slight corruption kink?? || everything is consensual || public teasing ||

Study hall. That’s how everything started.

There were no empty tables, every one being full of a person, so you decided to move deeper — just in case there was one someone missed.

Of course, though, they were all full. All of your friends were either in other classes or working, so there was no point in texting them to come and join you so you wouldn’t be alone at a table with someone who could very well be Ghostface.

Slowly, you walked around the library to find a table you could sit at before you saw the same book for the Psychology course you were taking. You paused, looking from the book to who had it, his brown curls immediately letting you know it was that quiet boy who sat a few rows back from you.

It didn’t take you long to walk towards him, his eyes flickering up for a quick second before looking back down. It made Ethan panic; were you walking towards him?

He inhaled deeply as his eyes flickered down to the heels that stood a few inches from his chair, inhaling deeply when he felt a soft pat to his shoulder. “You’re Ethan, right?”

He tried not to let it be too obvious that his eyes started to trail up your body; your beautiful legs that were on show, your skirt black and to your midthigh and your shirt just perfectly tight around your body. “Uhm… yeah,” he whispers, nodding as you smile down at him. “Yeah, I’m Ethan.”

“I’m Y/N,” you respond, smiling. “Do you mind if I sit down with you?”

“U-Uhm no… no, not at all,” he said, quickly looking around to see if he could grab a seat for you until you grabbed one yourself and put it right next to him. “I-I’m just studying econ right now.”

“Oh, I did econ last year!” You say, smiling as you tapped the book. “I could help if you help me with psych?”

He nodded immediately, staring up at you before you sat down next to him, holding his hand tightly with a smile. “Y-Yeah, I would like that.”

After helping him out like you wanted to, it was onto psychology. You were learning about Sigmund Freud, a sick bastard who had to relate everything to sex, and two of the theories were the Oedipus and Electra Complex.

“Maybe that’s where the daddy and mommy kinks come in,” you joke, giggling. “Playing. Kind of. I think those stem from not the loving of one’s literal birth parent, but the attraction to someone who fulfills the role of sorts.” “What do you mean?” Ethan asked, leaning over to peer at your textbook and to stare at the diagram comparing the two complexes.

“Well, for those kinks, with those who have daddy kinks - whether male or female - they often have some sort of issue with their true parental figure, but not always, or a strong attachment to their father, or the love that they showed. Same with men who have mommy kinks.” You shrugged, fixing your bra strap as you looked over at him. “I don’t think I’d mind a man calling me mommy.”

Ethan could feel his cheeks get hot, looking away as you giggled. “Wh-What do you mean?”

“Well, I think I would make a good mother,” you shrug, but hum. “I just don’t like the thought of having children - now at least - still got my whole life ahead of me! I definitely do like the thought of the… process though.”

He stuttered out the same question, swallowing. He stared at you, mouth going dry as you giggled.

“Are you a virgin, Ethan?”

He clenched his fists, looking away before you held his wrist. “Y-Yeah, I am.”

“Well, I mean someone cumming inside,” you tapped his chin, getting him to look at you as you smiled at him, giggling. “Like… anywhere. I’m not the biggest fan of anal, but it depends on who’s giving it, you know? But I definitely like how it looks when cum like floods out of my cunt, you know what I mean?” You asked him, biting your lip as his cheeks get redder and his eyes try to avoid yours as much as he could. “You don’t, do you? Kind of forgot,” you hummed, letting your hand place on his and draw lines across his veins with your nail. “You don’t look like you’d be a virgin, Ethan.”

He quickly looked at you, confused. “I-I don’t?”

“No,” you say, smiling as your fingers intertwined with his. “You’re too cute to be a virgin, but you seem to be one of those types who don’t realize how much they make a girl’s pussy wet.”

He shivered as your nail slowly dragged up his forearm, a hum leaving your mouth. “D-Do I make your pussy wet?”

You smiled, shifting slightly to move the wet patch of your underwear. “You do. Can I touch you, Ethan?”

“H-Here?” He basically squeaked, but your hand placing on his thigh made him gasp.

“Not like that, silly,” you laughed, but your nail trailed down his inner thigh. “I mean… unless you want me to.”

“Y-You would do that in a library?” He whispered, watching as you tilt your head slightly.

“Why not?” He inhaled sharply as your finger trailed down his growing bulge, a satisfied hum leaving your mouth. “You should take me out.”

“Y-Yes, yes ma’am.”

That was the beginning of your relationship. Four months in, Ethan had a habit of getting way too comfortable laying against your body with your nipple in his mouth as he sucked and groped the other, a vibrator shoved into your cunt that he had licked and prepped all perfectly.

It had basically become a routine ever since you figured out that he actually did have a mommy kink, coming home from school and his nimble hands stripping you after slipping off your jacket and shoes, kissing your ankles and wrists before leading you to your room. If your feet were sore, he would give you a foot rub, and if your back hurt, a massage. He was so, so good for you, how could you not repay him?

You stroked his curls as his hand pulled your tit deeper into his mouth, sucking and biting against your areola making you hiss. “Hey, don’t be too rough, baby. Be nice.”

He hummed, nodding as he pulled away. “S-Sorry… you just taste so good.”

You laughed, stroking his hair with a smile. “Taste, hm? What tastes? There’s nothing with flavor-”

“You,” he interrupts, his tongue flattening against your sensitive but hard bud. “You taste so good.”

You hummed as you pushed your hand down to push the vibrator into the next setting, the second one being something you were basically ignorant to. You inhale sharply as you hold the end, pushing it deeper into you to feel the soft pink silicone vibrate against the perfect spot inside of you, your hips bucking as he groans against your tit.

One of his hands tries to push down your stomach, attempting to touch your pretty clit before you slapped his hand, a whine against your nipple making you groan. “You already had your time with my pussy, baby, pay attention to my tits.”

He whined, pulling away from your swollen nipple, his hands squeezing at your full breasts. “But mommy-”

“Ah,” you interrupted, raising a brow. “What did mommy say, hm? You’re going to be a bad boy and not listen to your mommy, just to get a taste of my pussy? If you’re good, you won’t have to beg for it.”

“O-Okay,” he mumbled, moving onto your other tit as his thumb flicked against the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth, a pleasure filled sigh leaving your lips.

One of your hands stayed in his hair, your head tilted back as the other guided the vibrator deeper into your cunt, hips rolling to try and get the tip against that perfect spot deeper inside of you. His mouth was nice against your tits, but not something that completely gained your attention, desperate to get that spot inside of you abused by the perfect silicone pink vibrator that always fucked you so good.

You felt a jolt go up your back as he groaned against your tit, biting against your nipple, a scream leaving your mouth as his teeth dug into your areola. “E-Ethan!”

He pulled away with the strong tug of your hand, whining loudly. “W-Wait, wait Y/N! Pl-Please, please you taste so good!”

You didn’t notice the pearly white liquid dripping down the side of his mouth, only registering the now discomforting vibrations inside of you. “No, you want to take advantage of what I give you? Hm? I be nice and let you suck on my tits as much as you want and you fucking bite me?!”

He whined, shaking his head as you pulled the vibrator out of your cunt, turning it off. “No! No, you don’t understand-!”

He choked as you pushed the vibrator into his open mouth, watching the creamy white ring envelope his lips as you pushed it down his throat, watching as he obediently sucked on it like you wanted him to. “You just like sucking on shit with me on it, don’t you? If I had another man fuck me, would you be desperate to suck his cock baby?”

He whined, shaking his head around the vibrator had been inside of you, soaked and covered in your arousal and cum. You pulled it out of his mouth to hear him whine even louder, his head shaking. “No, no! Mommy, mommy you promised that if I was good I’d be able to fuck you!”

“But you weren’t good, were you?” You hissed, squeezing his chin as you threw the vibrator to the side, forcing him onto his back. “I wanted to be nice and feel your mouth on my tits, but you wanted to bite me?”

“Pl-Please, you had milk coming out!” He basically begged, his hands cupping your tits and fingers squeezing at your nipples. The sensation makes you scream out, gasping as he rolls the hard, sensitive buds between his fingers, gasping as he pulls them slightly and the white liquid slowly starts to drip out. He groaned, staring up at you in desperation. “Can I please… please suck them, mommy?”

You paused, staring down at the liquid dribbling from your nipples. How the fuck were you lactating right now? There was absolutely no way you were pregnant, there was no other symptoms, you were on birth control-

“Y/N?”

Your eyes meet his as he smiles, sitting up.

“Just because you're lactating, doesn’t mean you’re pregnant. It can be caused by constant stimulation to the nipple and breast.”

You paused, holding his shoulders as he slowly ducked down to delicately lick the translucent, white tinted liquid. “Did you... look that up?”

“Well, yeah,” he laughed, shrugging. “I could tell that it kind of bothered you whenever I stopped, and they were getting heavier and you said that they were sore, so I looked it up to see if me sucking on them was doing anything. That’s why I just gave them massages for a while.”

You stared down at him, confused. “I thought you just liked squeezing my tits.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “As much as I do like that, I care about your well-being more.”

You could feel your heart swell, a smile on your lips as you leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. “You’ve been doing so good, baby, I think you deserve a treat for looking out for your mommy.”

He groaned as you leaned down, pressing another kiss to his lips, his mouth desperately following yours as you pulled away. “Wh-What do you mean by a treat?”

“Anything you want, baby,” you say, giggling. “You just tell me and I’ll do it.”

“Can… can I fuck you?” He whispered desperately, inhaling sharply as you hummed, nodding.

“How do you want me, honey?”

“L-Lay back for me,” he whispered, nodding. “Please.”

You smiled as you slowly got off, laying on your back with a languid stretch as he quickly straddled your waist after slipping off his clothes. He lifted himself up, pumping his cock as you tilted your head slightly, desperate to look at his way too pretty cock. It wasn’t the thickest in girth, but his length and the slight upwards curve from how fucking hard he was with the picturesque dribble of cum sliding out of his tip.

He groaned as he slowly slid his tip up and down your slit, jaw falling as he tilted his head back with even the slightest push into you. His fist nightly to the thought of you had nothing on the warmth of your cunt, how fucking soaked you were, and fuck you couldn’t have been tighter. He had to hold himself back from cumming just from this, a shaky groan falling from his mouth as your hands slowly trail up his chest, his perfect milky skin making you groan.

He cursed, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips, a whine falling from his mouth as you rolled your hips into his. “You ever going to start moving?”

He groaned, head tilting back as he desperately tried to control the sporadic bucks of his hips. “Y-You feel… you feel too good. F-Fuck, fuck, I can’t move without cumming,” he whispered, his voice breathy as you tried to hold back from moving your hips on your own. “Pl-Please, just let me… let me stay here for a minute, n-need to feel you.”

You held back a pout, nodding reluctantly. “Not too long, baby, before I give myself pleasure.”

Ethan groaned as he leaned down, desperately kissing at your neck as his hands groped your tits, his thumbs finding your nipples and sliding over them firmly. “N-No, no, I’ll still… I’ll still give you pleasure, mommy, that’s what I’m here for. To give you pleasure.”

“Well, don’t just give it to me on my tits, my love.”

As much as you did love him sucking and licking at your nipples, desperately drinking at the milk that was a production of constant stimulation, a sigh leaving your mouth at the same feeling filled your body like it had the past few weeks. It felt good, a weight of some sort being lifted from your swollen tits at the milk being sucked out, but with his cock this deep inside of you, how could you not want it?

You shifted your hips, smiling when you heard the whine fall from his lips, purposely clenching your cunt around his cock. He gasped against your tit, groaning loudly as you pushed your hips off the bed, rolling your hips against his to get his cock deeper inside of you, his hips bucking against yours seemingly on accident.

You gasped as his teeth dug into your nipple once again, whining loudly as his hips started to move faster, more collected. You certainly didn’t expect him to be this good at fucking right off the bat, his shaft rubbing along your walls as one of his hands push down between the two of you, smearing your wetness along your slit and rubbing at your clit.

You moaned loudly, gasping as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his back arched as he attempted to continue thrusting into you as he sucked on your tits, his thrusts getting rougher as your nails dragged down his back. He pulled away from your tit with a deep inhale, a shaky moan leaving your mouth as the white liquid dribbled down his chin.

“A-Am I doing good, mommy?” The name makes your walls clamp down on his cock, a whine leaving your mouth as his hips stutter, your cunt used to the steady and rough pace of his thrusts being affected by the slight falter. “I-Is that a yes? Y-You clench when I call you mommy, you really like it, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes!” You yelled out, gasping as his tip kissed your cervix, grazing that one spot that made your eyes roll back. Your mouth fell open, moaning wantonly as his hands held your tits to keep some sort of steadiness to his actions.

His mind was cloudy and hazy, body hot in desperation to just fuck you. He had been waiting desperately until he got to this point, thinking of you every time he pumped his cock, hating your teasing when you forced him to watch you get yourself off with that pretty pink vibrator that you shoved down his throat earlier. Fuck, he was jealous of a fucking sex toy.

“Do you like it when I fuck you like this, mommy? Do you want me to be rougher, softer? J-Just tell me, fu-fuck, just tell me what to do.” Ethan whined, his face moving to press against your neck to get into more of a comfortable position, your cunt clenching around him once again making him groan. “J-Just tell me!”

“D-Don’t stop,” you cover your mouth, whimpering as your cheeks turned red in embarrassment; a fucking virgin has you this fucked out? A virgin is making you feel this good? “J-Just don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop!”

He groaned loudly, slamming into you as his fingers squeezed your clit firmly, taking pleasure in the way your hips bucked and your walls convulsed around his length, his vision going white as he came inside of you. You gasped, just the feeling of those hot ropes of cum squirting into you making you scream out, desperately trying to get that perfect thrust to hit your g-spot, the sharp thrust of his hips successfully making you come undone and cum all over his cock.

You could feel his cock twitching, still not softening. You had never been with a virgin before, so you assumed that he probably just needed a few more thrusts to successfully go soft, but with the lazy rolls of his hips, he was still fucking hard.

Slowly, you patted his chest, inhaling deeply. “Can I ride you, baby?”

He inhaled sharply, nodding as you pushed against his chest, inhaling sharply as you sat on his cock. You whined, his length still incredibly hard as he shifted himself, slipping a pillow underneath his hips to help push his cock into you at a new angle. You could feel every bulging vein on his shaft, his perfect arched cock pushing into you, desperately bouncing on his cock to get it as deep inside of you as you could.

Your nails dug into his chest, your head lulling back when you felt his tip hit that perfect spot inside of you, the knot inside of your stomach weak from your first orgasm. You could feel it being teased by his tip, each bounce making his head hit that perfect spot inside of you, loud groans falling from your mouth as he held your hips.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” He groaned, head tilting back as he accidentally bucked his hips, your nails digging into his chest as your eyes rolled back, supporting yourself to stay sitting up as you screamed out. “F-Fuck, fuck, don’t stop mommy, please.”

You could feel his cock continue to twitch inside of your cunt, groaning loudly as more cum flooded into you, your thighs shaking as you lifted yourself up, keeping his tip inside of you before releasing your weight again and sinking down onto his cock. He groaned loudly, tears pricking his eyes as he squeezed your hips. You were not going to let a fucking virgin outlast you.

“Y-You sure you’re a virgin, Ethan?” You whimper, a laugh falling from his mouth as you reach toward his face to wipe the tears falling from his cheeks. “Fucking hell, Ethan! We've been at it for hours, how are you still hard?!"

He was definitely a virgin if he was crying after two releases, but he definitely couldn’t be a virgin if he was still hard.

He laughed as he rolled his hips upward, groaning without holding back from his thrusts upward into you, your hands on his shoulders and your nails digging into his shoulders to stabilize yourself. You weren’t going to let yourself fly forward like you were tired, because as much as you were tired, you weren’t going to let him see that.

“Y-Yes, yes mommy, am I doing good for you? F-Fuck, I love it when you use me, mommy, I love it when you fucking use me for your own pleasure!” He groaned out, your walls tight around his shaft as he slammed his hips upward, desperately trying to chase his next release.

As much as you wanted to stay sitting up, put on that strong front, you couldn’t. You flew forward, groaning as your tried to hold yourself up above him, his mouth ducking to suck on your tits once again. The added stimulation made you scream out, eyes rolling back as another mind blurring orgasm resonated in your body, tummy convulsing as your walls clamped down on his cock.

Your nails dug into the sheets, gripping the silk fabric between your fingers as his teeth teasingly dragged against your nipple, his hands holding your hips as he thrusted into your abused cunt just a few more times, another orgasm rippling through his body as he came again, whimpering against your shoulder as you panted above him.

“You can’t be a virgin.”

He laughed as he pushed you onto your back, humming. “Can I keep going?”

You inhaled sharply, pausing when his cock continued to stay hard inside of you, but you nodded. You wanted someone who could keep up with you, who cared if it was a virgin? “Yes baby, you can.”

He groaned, leaning down for a firm kiss to your lips. “Thank you mommy, thank you so much. I love you, I’ll make you feel so fucking good, I promise.”

You groaned as he slowly flipped you onto your side, his hands pushing against your tits as he kneeled in front of your cunt and over one of your thighs, pulling your other leg over his shoulder.

Fuck, he truly was the perfect virgin.

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© asterias-record-shop

[cinny-cinnamon]

Bad Sans HCs! (sorry for late post 😭)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･

Nightmare

Oh we BOTH now that this man is possessive, jealous, BUT he sugar daddy approved sooo (sprinkle, sprinkle? 🥺)

Buys you anything AND everything. You want to eat at a cafe? He bought the building so he can have private café dates <3 (Horror is the one cooking and stuff there lmao)

He LOOOVEEESSSS you but he can NOT physically say it so here; take his money, hun 💵

He doesn’t sleep BUT he does lay down beside you while reading something

He doesn’t normally cook but he CAN bake your favorite desserts <3

Speaking of dessert, when you usually have a bad day, he’s the first to go to you, listen to you, feed you your favorite dessert and hunt down the person who hurt you 😊

Yeahhh… he’s REALLY protective of you

Speaking of protectiveness, whenever you hangout with a friend, he usually has an arm wrapped around your waist (or shoulder if you’re more comfortable with that)

Moreover, if someone hits on you, he WILL hit them (with his fist <3)

Killer

I say this with the most respect i have… THIS MAN IS THE CLINGIEST MF YOU’VE EVER KNOWN CAUSE DAMN THIS MAN DON’T KNOW HOW TO LEAVE YOU ALONE

He’s like a puppy. a very big oversized childish immature puppy with issues but you love him so you don’t care 🤷‍♀️

Speaking of his personality if a man even LOOKS at you in any weird way he gonna be like stab first ask questions later

Lovessss to kiss you anywhere and everywhere and a BIGGG fan of PDA

Despite his reputation of being a flirt, he’s really loyal to you and holds on to you like a child holding their favorite toy

Speaking of clinginess, he LOVESS to cuddle you and be big spoon (it feeds his ego to be bug spoon)

Along with the topic of his ego, despite his cockiness and arrogance, he’s kinda insecure about himself sooo sometimes you gotta reassure him you’d never cheat on him or leave him

Dust

You chose the traumatized one??? Interesting… (are you ok? 😭)

Like no judging cause I get it but… HE’S PROBABLY THE MOST MESSED UP OF THE GROUP 😭

But I feel like he would make an amazing listener so if you ever need to rant then just go to him (if it’s about someone who hurt you then he do a little ✨ stab-e-stab✨

Reading time with him is sooooo fun. He’ll probably either have you lay on his lap while he reads or him lay on your lap when he wants to nap

Late night convos with him ✨

Likes to make you a nice warm hot drink for reading

If you’re the one having a mental breakdown, he will listen, talk, cuddle and love you all the way through it.

Horror

hubby material

I love myself a man who can cook ngl

He knows how to cook? he tall and big? he sweet and precious in private? WIFE/HUSBAND/MARRY ME UP RN-

He gives like hamster vibes in private but in public… people are looking at ya’ll and be like “Is she being held hostage or smthng?” (you are being held hostage… WILLINGLY 😫)

He loves to cook for you anytime any day. Sudden midnight craving? Midnight cookies. Bad day at work and you’re starving? Your favorite comfort food! :3

This man is so attentive to your needs and wants its gonna make me cry-

Cross

my tsundere radar is TINGLING (TSUNDERE ALERT 🚨 TSUNDERE ALERT 🚨 HAND WITH CAUTION AND STUBBORNESS)

He tries to be the non chalant guy but as soon as he saw you he was like (o*｡_｡)o

Luckily you like him back (no matter how many times he ‘rejects’ you) so you just keep on bothering him <3

Although he probably lets you do things he won’t let others do to him like call him pet names, maybe a lil kiss, and holding hands

Remember: No matter what he says, he loves you so much

Also when people ask if ya’ll are dating he’ll say no and try to shrug it off, but when someone is flirting with you, oh HELL no. Protection Mode on

Error

Two tsunderes in a row?! Damn-

Well pretty much the same with Cross but with more ego and cockiness

He crochets you stuff too btw (maybe something like a cute lil plushie that says “you’re stupid”)

Althoughhhh he loves it when you share hot cocoa with him <3

Also he gets annoyed easily and probably won’t try to touch you because he’s haepephobic (fear of being touched) (idk how to spell that word)

Anyway that’s all, bye! <3

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･