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jaythes1mp · 10 months ago

Text

Here, Kitty.

Yan batfam x cat hybrid reader -> CH1

12609 words, 71519 characters, 719 sentences, 224 paragraphs, 50.4 pages Next chapter

You can't recall exactly when or how you first came into contact with the billionaire and his sons, but if you could, you would go back in time and prevent that meeting from ever taking place. In a heartbeat.

Sitting obediently on a glass table tucked in the center of a crowded Wayne Enterprises boardroom, you find yourself ensnared as Bruce Wayne diligently delivers a familiar presentation, each sentence having been painstakingly practiced during the car ride over. Having overheard his repeated rehearsal with Alfred, you find yourself unconsciously mouthing along to every word. The tight black and green collar around your neck only worsening your discomfort, its stiffness constricting your movements and snagging on your freshly groomed fur.

The man continues on with his presentation, his polished demeanour and authoritative tone captivating the attention of the surrounding investors and executives. However, you find it difficult to focus on his words, the ridiculous knitted Nightwing sweater pressing against your back causing an uncomfortable itch. You shift slightly, wincing as your freshly combed coat brushes against the stiff fabric.

The weight of Bruce's unwavering gaze lands on you like a furnace, and you can almost picture that infuriatingly fond smile plastering his face. Just the thought of it made your stomach churn with disgust. Your tail swishing side to side in distaste.

He continues to drone on and on; and you find yourself struggling to stay still, the uncomfortable position, itchy sweater, and the heavy weight of Bruce's stare making it increasingly difficult to focus on anything he's saying. The only thing you want to do is scratch the infuriating itch, but the tight collar around your neck and Bruce's looming presence ensure that you remain obediently still. You know better than to cross them. How willing they are to punish you, so you stay still.

Your thoughts drift to a time when you were still unburdened by this enforced domestication. A pang of longing and bitterness settles in your chest as memories of your previous life come flooding back. You remember the simple freedom of being able to move about unmonitored, the comfort of lounging in the sun, unbothered by the Wayne families suffocating grasps.

Your paws effortlessly propel you across the icy rooftops, leaping and bounding with a careless grace. The cool night air brushes through your untamed, unhindered fur, the wind whistling past your ears. A bag is clenched between your sharp teeth, the fabric muffling your breathing slightly as you scale each building with purpose.

The city's neon glow stretches out beneath your paws, the distant lights casting a soft, surreal hue on the urban canvas. Free to go wherever you please. You could spend minutes, hours or even days just wandering under Gotham’s starry sky, with no one to tell you what to do or where to be.

You pause your journey and arrive at the edge of a dark alley, peering down at the scene below. A woman holds two teens hostage, a pistol pressed against their shivering frames. Your tail involuntarily fluffs up, matching the tension in your body as your slitted eyes dart to each potential escape route. A hiss escapes past your teeth, and you set the package down at your side before delicately pawing at a loose brick in the wall. You slide it from its position just enough to create a domino effect, the brick falling directly onto the woman's gun-holding hand.

A small, satisfied mewl leaves your throat as the woman wails in pain, her broken wrist cradled protectively in her grip. The two teens immediately seize the opportunity to make their escape, scrambling out of the alleyway. The gun slips from the woman's grasp, and she drops to her knees clutching her wounded hand. Your ears fold back and a low hiss escapes your lips at the sight, but you remain perched on the roof-top, unmoving. You slowly lower back down to take your package, then turn away. Your paws hitting the nearest rooftop with a small thump.

Your paws carry you further and further away from the robbery, the events replaying in your mind like a vivid, disjointed dream. You launch yourself from roof-to-roof in a series of quick dashes and leaps, your body seemingly on autopilot as you weave through the city's darkened backstreets. The silence of the rooftops envelops you like a comforting blanket, the city below finally at rest. A cool night breeze caresses your untamed fur, rustling its unkempt strands. Balancing the package carefully in your mouth, you bound toward your home’s familiarly cluttered balcony.

Your eyes scan over the cluttered balcony, taking in the random assortment of books, clothes, and trinkets strewn across the small space. Your padded paws land quietly on the rough wood, a subtle thump breaking the silence. Your muscles relax ever so slightly as the familiar surroundings wash over you. Without a second thought, you make your way to the edge of the balcony, lowering the package with your paws before curling up beside it, your ears folding back in an almost contented manner.

Your eyes had just shuttered closed as you basked in the soothing midnight breeze, when the sudden crash of metal yanks you from your reverie. Your ears perking up and pivoting towards the source of the disturbance. A low, frustrated huff escapes your snout. You stretch out your limbs, your tail flicking in annoyance as you lower yourself from the edge of the balcony and peer over the side.

Peering down from your perch on the balcony, your eyes widen in surprise. It’s...a boy? Wearing a skin-tight red and black bodysuit with a vibrant yellow cape. A flicker of familiarity sparks in your brain; you’ve seen this one before. Red Robin.

You observe him silently from your vantage point, tilting your head to the side as your eyes rove over his frame. He lets out an exaggerated groan, grappling awkwardly with an unfamiliar piece of gadgetry. A low, scoffing hum leaves your throat and your tail lightly thwaps against the wood, twitching in amusement. You had only seen him in pictures before, but damn, they didn’t lie. He looked absolutely ridiculous.

You lower yourself with a single, fluid motion onto the metal stairwell, feeling the rough surface scraping against your little paws. A small hiss of displeasure escapes your throat, but you brush it off and continue. You approach him curiously, taking a moment to inspect him. Your nose twitches as you sniff at his cape before finding a comfortable spot to sit and look up at him expectantly.

He doesn’t immediately notice your approach, his mind seemingly occupied by the malfunctioning gadget in his hands. You watch as he fiddles with the device for a few moments before his attention finally snaps to you. He visibly jumps, startled by your sudden proximity. He lets out a startled breath, eyes widening. You had gone to him.

You let out a snort of derision. Him, a vigilante? A detective? Unlikely. The thought of him trying to solve a case or outwit a criminal is absolutely absurd. You let your gaze wander over his costume once more, imagining how differently he would react if you were in your human form right now.

He slowly lowers the gadget, his eyes fixed upon you as you recline before him, behaving like an awaiting house cat. He observes you with quiet, analytical interest, his gaze roaming over your small form, taking in your twitching tail and reasonably-groomed fur. He seems to ponder the sight of you, weighing in on your not-quite stray, yet not-quite pampered appearance.

You gingerly shift closer, standing on your hind legs before pawing at his pants. A small indignant huff of disappointment escapes your lips as the material refuses to tear, the tightly-woven fabric holding firmly against your claws, unable to even tear the slightest thread, but you mask it with a small, almost cute "mew". Nevertheless, you are determined to make the most out of this situation. Planning on coaxing all the pets you possibly can out of this man.

He shoots you a curious look, tilting his head to the side. You can almost hear the cogs turning in his brain. He then slowly reaches out a gloved hand, hovering it over your head hesitantly, waiting for your response.

The end of your tail gives a happy flick, betraying your eagerness for his touch. You press your cheek against his knuckles, enjoying the sensation of his fingers against your fur. Instinctively, your ears fold back, granting him better access to run his fingers further through your soft fur. Sucker.

A soft, delighted purring sound fills the air as your eyes flutter closed, your purrs becoming a constant, steady low rumble in your chest as he continues to gently stroke your head and down your neck. Oh, this is heavenly. Your tail swishes contentedly, and you lean into his touch, almost shamelessly seeking out more.

His gloved hand is much bigger than your entire head, the soft fabric of his suit brushing against your fur. Yet, his touch was gentle and deliberate, slowly tracing the outline of your ears and down your spine, causing a blissful shiver to run through your small body. Your eyelids droop further, nearly closing completely, your purring becoming louder as you relax into his touch. You don’t notice the pleased knowing grin that crosses his face.

The weight and warmth of his gloved hand was almost soothing, his fingers weaving between your fur with a sort of rhythmic motion. You let your body go limp, your head rolling back to further expose the underside of your chin, silently begging for more of those slow, careful caresses. Your eyes are almost completely closed now, a small rumble in your chest the only sound you remember how to make. God, you haven’t been pet in weeks.

His hand moves from your spine to the base of your tail, and a low sigh of pure contentment leaves your mouth. He seems to sense your delight and focuses his attention there, running his fingers through the base of your tail, causing you to involuntarily arch your body towards him, purring in approval.

He seems to know exactly what to do, his touch deliberate yet tender. A little too well. It's as if he's somehow mapped out each and every spot that you secretly adore and is now exploiting it to great effect. The constant caresses, pets, and scrabbles have worked you into a sort of euphoric, almost trancelike state, your mind becoming blissfully devoid of conscious thought. All you can focus on is the warm, firm touch of his gloved hand.

The moment is shattered, however, as deep voice from his comms shatters the sweet, blissful moment. Your little pointed ears perk up, instinctively responding to the sudden intrusion of sound. “Tim? Why does it say you’ve stood still?”

You pull yourself from your blissful state with a reluctant huff, the sound of the deep voice in his comm jarring you back to reality. Your ears flick back, annoyed at the interruption. Tim– Red Robin seems to tense up, his hand frozen in mid-pet. He lets out a small, nervous chuckle, looking down at you. "Sorry, I got…distracted."

Your tail lazily swishes against the stairwell, silently expressing your irritation at having been interrupted. You can practically hear his sheepish, nervous chuckle, can practically sense the tension in his frame. "Distracted?" The voice in the comm questions, but you huff, tuning out the conversation.

You let out a small, frustrated huff before turning your focus back onto Tim's still form. Ignoring the man's comm conversation, you push your little, fluffy face against his leg, letting out a needy demanding mewl to regain his attention. You're not done yet, damn it.

His eyes flick back over to you, a mix of apology and amusement evident in his gaze. He resumes his prior motions, sliding his hand down your spine with a soft, comforting caress, tracing the same path he'd followed before. All the while, his other hand is fiddling with the comms device, probably replying to the man on the other end. Good. As long as his hands are still touching you, you don't particularly care what he's doing. “You found them?”

You sigh and let yourself relax once again, the soothing motions of his fingers against your fur quickly working you back into blissful indifference. You let your eyelids flutter closed, sinking back into the soothing rhythm of his touch. The only sounds you can focus on are his breathing, the soothing rasp of his glove against your fur, and the low hum of the comm conversation. This is nice.

He continues this motion for what feels like an eternity, the blissful sensation of being pet taking over your senses and dulling your brain into a euphoric, mindless state. You find yourself leaning heavily against his leg, the steady rise and fall of his chest and the low rumble of his voice against the comms acting as an oddly soothing background noise. Damn, you could get used to this....

Gradually, you become aware of him shifting, his hand leaving your spine. A low whine escapes your throat, your eyes opening to look up at him with a mixture of annoyance and pleading. Come back. You meow, demanding.

You let out a low grumble of complaint as he stands and picks up the device once more. Irritated at the interruption of your moment, you bat at his leg with your small paw, then quickly scamper away, leaping back onto the balcony from before. Now alone, you let out a sigh and circle the small space multiple times. The wood scraping against your claws sharply.

With a quick shift, you transform back into your human form, the small package clutched delicately in your hands. Turning, you slide open the door to the balcony and step through, the cool night air rustling against your clothes.

Tossing the small package onto the countertop, you drag yourself over to the couch. Your limbs ache with exhaustion as you collapse into the cushions with a thud. You bring the well worn blanket with you, wrapping your tired body in its familiar comfort. Your muscles are screaming out for rest. Which you happily oblige.

You're wrenched out of a fitful sleep, eyes fluttering open as the familiar, infuriating sound of construction greets you. Fuck. A loud, frustrated groan escapes your chapped lips. You pull a nearby couch pillow over your head, desperately trying to muffle the noise. With bleary eyes, you squint at the digital clock reading 5:42. You want to die.

The relentless hammering, banging, and drilling outside the thin walls of the apartment pierce your eardrums. You swear you can feel each blow of the hammer, every screech of the drill, deep in your bones. Make it stop. You press the pillow more firmly against your ears, trying in vain to block out the incessant din. You silently promise yourself that if you ever meet the city planner responsible for approving this construction, you'll kick him square in the nuts... Or right in the vagina– whatever. Now is not the time to debate over this.

With a groan of irritation and an abundance of hissing, you force your tired body into a sitting position as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. You take a moment to rub your temples for some relief from the dull ache forming behind your eyes.

You open your red rimmed eyes and swing your legs over the side of the couch. The exhaustion from last night feels ten times worse now after being woken up prematurely by the construction racket. You mentally curse whoever’s in charge here, and their entire bloodline. Silently wishing for the noise to stop. Maybe you can sleep in the bathtub later...

You brace one hand against the side of the couch as you use it as support to rise to your feet. A series of satisfying cracks and pops resonate down your spine. By the sound of it you’re a chiropractors wet dream.

You let out a low sigh of relief as you straighten, your back now less taut than it was a few moments ago. Small mercies, right?

With your hands clamped tightly over your tender, sensitive ears, you stumble into the kitchen. You begin searching through each cabinet with a desperation that borders on violent. Your mission? Find the strongest headache pills you have.

After hastily flinging open each cupboard and shelf, you finally find what you’re looking for. A small, white bottle filled half way with little white tabs. With a quick twist, you pop the lid open and pour two pills out into your palm, before downing them dry.

You lean against the kitchen counter, eyes squeezed shut as you press the heels of your hands firmly into your temples. Come on. Work already..

You wait in silence, only the buzzing of the refrigerator and occasional hammering outside filling the air. You press your palms against your temples, as if physically willing the pills to work faster. The tension between your shoulders tight as piano wire.

You let out a frustrated groan, turning the tap on, lowering your head under the rushing water. You gulp down a few mouthfuls, letting the water run over, through, and past your lips. The noise of the tap muffling the sounds of the construction. The coolness of the water temporarily soothes the ache behind your eyes.

You let the water slide past your lips, closing them to savor the cool sensation. Your mind grows blank as you lose track of time, lost in tranquility despite the racket outside. Then, with a shaky hand, you turn off the tap, stepping back as you reach for a tea towel to dry your face and neck. The cloth rough against your tender skin, but the motion is calming, and your shoulders loosen the slightest bit.

You lean back against the counter, the cold marble seeping through your shirt, almost numbing any sensation on your skin. You take another moment to towel dry your hair, the rough material scraping against your scalp, and sending a pleasant shiver down your back. The small action temporarily distracting you from the pounding in your head.

You drop the towel, letting it fall onto the counter behind you. A long exhale escapes your mouth, your shoulders dropping as you relax. For a moment, the water seems to have worked. Unfortunately, the relief is short lived as the headache slowly creeps back in. A low growl escapes your lips. Ugh.

You scan over the bottle, reading the small print. Only twenty minutes before the damn things start to kick in. Shit. You shove the container back inside the cupboard, a frustrated huff leaving your lips. You drag your body over to your room, every step a tedious task.

You stumble into the room and collapse onto your bed, face first. You let out a low groan as your body lands on the soft, fluffy mattress. It welcomes you with open arms. You let yourself go limp, letting the comfort and softness of your bed lull you into a quiet state of half numbness. You can’t tell if it’s the lack of rest, or the pills finally starting to work, but you’re suddenly feeling incredibly woozy.

With a sluggish effort, you shift your head up, wincing at the sharp, persistent thrum in your skull. Despite the throbbing, you slowly extend your arm to reach for the pair of shorts laying on the edge of the bed.

With a weary sigh, you shuck off yesterday’s cargo pants and pull the new shorts up your legs. The simple motion feels like climbing a mountain. Deciding that the headache pounding through your mind was too much to change your shirt, you collapse back onto your bed. The sheets cool against your overheated skin.

You lay there for a moment, letting the comfort of your bed take hold. Despite the headache still pounding through your head, exhaustion slowly starts to take hold of you. Your eye lids flutter as sleep slowly creeps in. But just as you’re about to doze off, your stomach lets out an obnoxious gurgle, the sound piercing the silence. Great.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you shift up from the bed, grimacing as you do so. Your untamed hair sticking up in random directions. You rub your temple, as your stomach lets out another loud grumble. You let out an annoyed whine as the realisation sinks in. You’re out of groceries.

With a disgruntled huff, you haul yourself up for the second time. Reaching for your jacket as you quickly make your way towards the front door. This time choosing to forego the balcony and just walk like a normal person. You swing open the front door and step out into the hallway. The fluorescent lights buzz annoyingly overhead.

You step into the hallway, your shoes slapping softly against the tiled floor. The sound of the construction is no longer muffled, the endless banging and grinding now clear as day. You wince as the onslaught suddenly becomes unbearable. You quickly make your way to the staircase instead of the elevator. You can’t handle being jammed into that tiny space with the sounds of hell right now.

You take the steps of the staircase two at a time, just wanting to get out of this damn building as soon as possible. Each step echoes with a rhythmic thudding against the cold concrete as you make your way to the ground floor. The headache pills have finally started to work, but the pounding construction outside is slowly undoing their efforts.

You stride past the workers, shooting each of them a murderous glare. It’s not their fault they’re just doing their job. But goddamn it, the headache is worsening and it’s all you can do to not snap at them. Instead, you settle for shooting them a glare that could rival Batman himself.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the angry words building within you. Just keep walking. It’s fine. They’re not at fault here. It’s stupid to be angry at them. You repeat the mantra in your head like a broken record as your legs carry you further down the street. Further away from that blasted construction noise.

You keep walking, your shoes thumping against the concrete as you go. The further away you get from the construction, the more the headache starts to abate. You let out a quiet, shuddering breath of relief as you glance around at your surroundings. Barely anyone was out at this hour, the streets still mostly asleep.

After walking another ten minutes or so, you pause in the middle of the street and let out a string of quiet curses under your breath. The stores won’t be open for at least another four hours, and your stomach is starting to demand sustenance again.

Frustration builds inside of you, your teeth clenched tight together as you shuffle in place. You can’t go back to your apartment because of that goddamn noise, and all the stores that aren’t run by mobsters are closed.

You sigh, resting your tired body against the graffiti-filled wall behind you. There was another option you could try. But whether or not you were desperate enough to do it was something else.

You chew on your bottom lip in contemplation. You hadn't eaten much more than a small yogurt cup yesterday, and your stomach was protesting it's emptiness in a loud, gurgling complaint. You release a long sigh, doing a quick glance around to ensure no one was nearby before shifting into a cat.

The transformation is swift and graceful as you shift into the form of a sleek cat. Your body shrinks, limbs elongating and changing shape as soft multicoloured fur sprouts from your body. You stand on four paws, tail swaying languidly. You give yourself a quick shake, licking your little paws for good measure before looking around again.

You take a moment to get used to the new body you’ve assumed. Everything felt a tad bit more sensitive in this form. Your ears swivel around at minuscule sounds as you sniff the air with your sensitive nose, picking up on the various scents floating through the street.

You decide to try your hand at pity first, before resorting to thievery if your first plan fails. You slink down the street, your paws silent against the pavement beneath you as you search for some poor unsuspecting soul to assist you.

You stalk down the street, ears pricked and head tilted as you listen for the sounds of anyone making their way through the quiet street. You make yourself as adorable as possible: wide, begging eyes and sticking out your chest. A pitiful meow leaving your little cat mouth every so often, just for good measure.

You make your way through the city, heading towards the more upscale side of Gotham. You sway your tail idly behind you, the appendage brushing against the concrete and gathering the dirt that sticks to your fur. You make sure to rub up against some objects, gathering enough dirt and debris to make yourself appear slightly disheveled, but not enough to set off your instincts to want to groom yourself immediately.

You reach a neighbourhood of opulent high rises and well manicured lawns, plush houses and gated communities starting to become more frequent, a stark contrast to the graffiti-filled blocks you had passed before. Your fur is dusted with enough dirt to look untidy without feeling uncomfortable, and you let out a small meow as you glance down the street, scouting for a likely target.

You spot a man of considerable height, around 6 foot tall, with an intimidatingly built physique. His shirt clings just slightly too tightly against his chest, leaving little to the imagination. A scar mars the side of his face, making him look even more menacing. But you’ve seen far scarier looking men loitering at the end of your street. Saying that, doesn’t mean you’re any less scared of his imposing figure. So you quickly duck under the nearest parked car, attempting to conceal yourself beneath it.

You watch in trepidation as the man begins strutting towards the vehicle you’ve hidden yourself beneath. He kneels down in an unhurried, smooth motion, and peers right under the car. His gaze instantly locks onto you, your eyes widening in response to his intense stare. For the briefest of moments, you could have sworn there was a look of softness in his eyes, as if he hadn’t expected to see you.

“A cat?” The man lets out a small huff, shaking his head in what seemed like disbelief. His gaze drifts to your disheveled appearance, taking in the dirt that clings to your fur. He lets out a low hum, continuing to watch you with a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His muscles slowly relax. A smirk appearing on his face as he studies you closer.

Your tail sways behind you, your ears perking up at his relaxed gaze. A sly little grin of satisfaction threatens to rise to your face, but you hold it back, instead letting out a pitiful meow as you slowly shuffle closer to him. He doesn’t move away, watching your every movement with unwavering eyes.

You lower your head, slowly moving towards his boots. You let your body press against the soles of his shoes, a soft purring sound escaping your little feline mouth. The dirt from your fur slowly coats the previously clean material of his boots, but he doesn’t seem to mind the mess.

You continue to press your body against the hard leather of his boots, leaving behind a dusting of dirt. He crouches down, gently reaching out a big hand, careful not to scare you off. You can see the muscles in his arms flex with the action, the veins prominent on his knuckles. He gently runs a finger over your head, scratching just behind your ears.

The feel of his big hand against your head is gentle, his touch unexpectedly tender as he lightly scratches at the skin behind your ear. You let out a rumbling purr, unable to fight the comforting sensation that slowly starts to take over. Despite his intimidating appearance, he’s surprisingly sweet towards you.

He’s a hard-looking man, his appearance disheveled and weathered, a white streak through his jet black hair. His wide physique is almost intimidating, but you can see his heart already start to soften after a few moments. It seems even he isn’t immune to the charm of a pitiful stray cat begging for food and affection.

"What are you doing all the way out here, kid?" The man's deep, slightly grating voice calls out as he continues to gently scratch behind your ear. He's staring down at your small form with an odd expression of concern on his face, his eyes drifting over your disheveled fur.

Your ears perk up at the sound of his voice. Something suddenly seems terribly familiar about it. You tilt your head, glancing up to get a clearer look at the man’s face as you try and place where exactly you’ve heard his voice before.

You look closer at the man, studying his features with a furrowed brow. There’s no mistaking it now, you’ve definitely seen this guy somewhere before. You’re sure of it. But there’s no way you’d ever know anyone this big and intimidating before… right?

The man stands, gently scooping you up into his arms. He gives you a light pat on the head before he starts to move. “Come along then, I don’t need that little shit on my ass for leaving their little obsession stranded so far from home,” he mumbles, as if he’s talking to himself and not you.

You’re left blinking in surprise as you’re lifted from the ground, cradled in the man’s arms. You look up at him as he starts walking down the street with you, a bewildered look on your face. Obsession? Stranded? What the hell is this dude on?

The man continues walking, his stride even and unhurried. He glances down at you and scoffs, as if he’s amused by the sight of you. He mutters something under his breath as he walks, something that sounds like “God dammit, B.” He brings his hand up to give you a gentle scratch under your chin, the gesture almost affectionate.

Your stomach chooses the perfect moment to let out a loud grumble, the sound amplified by being so close to the man’s hand. You can feel his hand twitch against your belly slightly, and he lets out a low chuckle.

“Hungry, huh?” The man drawls out. He stops his stride for a moment, pulling out his phone as he keeps you cradled in one arm. You can’t see anything from this angle, but you can hear the sound of him making a phone call.

It’s only a few rings before someone picks up on the other end. You can faintly hear a voice chatting softly on the other line, even though you can’t make out what they’re saying. The man lets out a small huff of annoyance before holding the phone up to his ear, shifting you in his arms to keep you comfortably balanced against his chest.

“Hey,” he says into the speaker, his voice gruff but surprisingly soft. “Yeah, I’m out on the east side. I found something.” There’s a pause as the person on the other line responds, and you can faintly hear them say something, although it’s muffled and indistinct. The man snorts, his eyes drifting down to you for a moment before he continues.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m bringing ‘em back. Relax,” The man responds to the person on the other side of the line, rolling his eyes. You watch the side of his face as he talks, your ears pricked, ears catching snippets of the conversation. Relax? What do they mean by that? Are they talking about me?

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it,” the man says, shifting you around again as he begins to resume walking. “I’ll be back in an hour.” The person on the other end says a few more words before there’s a beep signifying the call’s been cut. He shoves his phone back into his pocket before bringing his hand back to keep you cradled against his chest.

You huff softly, feeling a strange mix of irritation and intrigue swirling inside of you. In an attempt to distract yourself, you reach your small paw up, lightly tapping it against the man’s cheek.

It’s a small action, intended to be nothing more than a curious little jab. But against the rough, scarred skin of the man’s cheek, your tiny little paw seems almost affectionate. He glances down at you at the contact, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise.

He studies you for a moment, a look of almost curiosity on his face. It’s a far cry from the gruff, hardened exterior he had been portraying up until now. He stops his stride for a moment, lifting you closer to his face to look at you more closely.

He seems almost… fascinated by you. His eyes rove over your soft fur and little face, taking in every detail. He lets out a low hum, slowly reaching out a hand and gently stroking your back. “The kid’s is gonna kill me for letting you get all dirty.”

The hand stroking gently down your back is surprisingly soft, despite the callouses and ridges of his fingertips. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head, probably trying to deduce what to do. “You’re a mess,” he mutters, his gaze drifting over your disheveled coat.

You can feel the urge to roll your eyes at the man’s words, the comment practically begging for a sarcastic reaction. But you hold it back, reminding yourself of the delicious meal you’re hoping to get out of him. Better hold back on the sass, for now.

Instead, you let your tail flick idly, trying to appear as innocent and pitiful as possible. Come on, man. Have a heart. Feed me.

The dude glances down as your tail continues to flick against his arm, almost as if you’re trying to lure him into doing something for you. A light snort escapes his mouth, his fingers trailing down to give you a little scratch on the head. “You’re a sly little bastard, ain’t ya?”

His statement is more of an off-handed comment rather than an actual critique. He continues to scratch behind your ear, seemingly unable to resist giving you a little affection. His gaze drifts over your disheveled form, taking in the dirt-matted fur and slight exhaustion in your eyes.

He lets out a soft grunt, his touch gentle as he runs his hands through your fur. You can almost hear the cogs turning in his head, his eyes never leaving your disheveled appearance. “How long you been out here all alone, huh?” he mutters, his voice gruff but strangely sympathetic.

The man lets out a low huff, glancing down at you with an almost sympathetic look on his face. “It’s earlier than we planned,” the man mutters, a hint of regret coating his words. His hand still softly stroking through your fur. “But the renovations are nearly ready,” his eyes taking in your exhausted form. It’s hard to say if he’s talking to you or to himself, a note of assurance in his voice. “So soon, kid.”

You look up at him with a bewildered expression on your face, your little mind still trying to make sense of his words. What is he talking about? Renovations? Who’s he talking to? Who are the people he keeps mentioning? What is even happening right now? But you quickly cover it up and let out a tired-sounding meow, hoping he won’t notice the hint of confusion in your little feline face. He glances down at you, his hand slowly rubbing a soothing circle on your back.

“Don’t worry, little one,” he murmurs, his voice still gruff but the tone softer this time. “You’ll be safe soon enough.” He gives you a gentle pat on the head before resuming his stride. You can feel his arms cradling you against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat almost lulling you into a sense of security.

Even as your mind races with unanswered questions, the beat of the man’s heartbeat seems to soothe you, acting as a strange form of comfort. His warm arms keep you tucked against him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest steady and unhurried. It’s an almost reassuring presence.

The man carries you down the street, the rhythmic sound of his footsteps and steady rhythm of his heart slowly lulling you into a trance-like state. The exhaustion from the past few days is finally catching up to you, a small yawn escaping your little mouth before you can try to fight it.

You can feel your eyelids growing heavy, exhaustion taking over your small body. The steady rhythm of the man’s heart combined with the gentle rocking of his arms as he walks send a wave of fatigue through you. You try to fight back the overwhelming tiredness, but another small, squeaky yawn escapes your little mouth.

With a soft contented sigh, you stretch out your little paws, making yourself comfortable in his arms. The man lets out a low chuckle as he watches your little legs extend, giving you a gentle pat on the back.

It’s strangely comforting, being held in the man’s strong arms. The sound of his laughter rumbles through his chest, and you can almost hear a hint of affection in the gesture. You feel the weight of your fatigue start to increase, your eyes slowly blinking shut against your will.

You blearily blink your eyes open, suddenly finding yourself lying on a soft cushion. The fabric feels luxurious against your fur, the plush material enveloping you in a comfortable embrace. You dazedly look around, trying to recall how you ended up on this soft surface.

Your little ears fold back as you look around, slowly taking in your surroundings. A brief moment of confusion washes over you as you realize that you had fallen asleep in the man’s arms. But seeing him still here, you let out a relieved sigh, your entire fluffy body moving up and down in the process. Thank everything that he didn’t leave me on the side of the road.

He glances over at you, noticing that you’re now awake. “You finally back with the living?” he says gruffly, his voice tinged with amusement. You can see a hint of a smile on the man’s face, betraying his hard exterior.

You lift your chin up in a defiant huff, letting your tail flick against the soft cushion as an additional statement of irritation. The man lets out a snort, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter at your small act of feigned irritation.

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he mutters, his voice taking on a slightly amused tone. He reaches a hand out to give you a small pat on the head, his rough fingers gently stroking your fur.

Your chest lets out a soft rumble, purring at the feeling of his hand stroking through your fur. Your gaze drifts around the room, your nose twitching as you pick up on a delicious scent. Food, your stomach rumbles. Please, be food.

The aroma is tantalizing, making your little stomach grumble loudly in response. You wonder if it's your imagination, or if the man actually has food nearby. The man lets out another amused huff as he notices your nose twitching and your stomach rumbling. “Impatient little thing, eh?” he mutters, lifting his hand from your head to look at you with a slightly entertained expression. Your little paws twitch slightly, as if you’re preparing to go searching for where the wonderful scent is coming from.

He chuckles at your eagerness, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Calm down, bud,” he says gruffly. “Food’s coming in a minute. Ain’t gonna starve ya.’” He gives you another gentle pat on the head, his hand large enough to practically cover your entire body.

You let out a dissatisfied huff, your gaze still darting around to try and find the source of the delicious scent. You want to rush out and find the food immediately, but the man's large hand keeps you pressed firmly on the soft cushion. You squirm a little impatiently, your tail flicking idly against the fabric. Your cat instincts taking over.

He lets out an amused laugh at your squirming, your restlessness making it hard for him to keep you in place. “Hold still,” he says gruffly. “You're making it hard to keep you in one place.” He reaches his hands out again and gently holds you down, preventing you from moving around any further.

You’re not a fan of this guy keeping you down, your instincts flaring up in defiance. Despite the delicious promise of food in the air, you’re tempted to lash out and scratch him just for holding you in one spot. Release me, your inner self growls.

You pause in your struggle, your little ears perking up and your whiskers twitching as the clink of dishes and the soft sound of footsteps approaching comes from nearby. Your nose twitches with anticipation, the delicious smells in the air becoming more concentrated. Food.

You crane your head to get a better look at the approaching figure, your little body shifting slightly on the cushion. The man holding you down also looks up, watching as someone walks into the room carrying a tray of food. Your little mouth starts to salivate, the enticing scents wafting over to you and making your stomach rumble loudly.

The guy releases his grip once you stop squirming, letting you move freely again. You can feel your instincts taking over your little body, your tail curling around your side as you focus your attention on the tray of food being presented in front of you. “Here you are, Master Jason.”

Your eyes are almost glued to the tray, filled with the most tantalizing smells that you've come across. The man– Jason watches you quietly, amused by your little display. The person holding the tray sets the food down in front of you, the various dishes arranged in an almost tempting manner.

You want to purr in delight as you look at the food laid before you. Thank god there’s none of that dreadful cat food in sight. You've had your fair share of people trying to feed you that horrible kibble in the past, and you're definitely not a fan. This food smells a million times better than anything that ever came out of a can. Meat.

You shoot him a glance of appreciation before hopping onto the table, greedily pouncing on the food in front of you. You dive right in, devouring the food with gusto, your little tongue lapping at the meat hungrily.

You pay no mind to him as you feast on the delicious meal laid out in front of you. The smells, the texture, the taste; it’s all absolutely heavenly. You eat like you've never eaten before, your little body almost shaking with contentment. This might just be the best meal you’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever.

Meanwhile, Jason watches your little display with a slight smirk on his face. He doesn’t say anything, just watching as you devour the food on the plate in front of you with relish. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, quickly taking a picture of you digging into the food to send to the family in case they ask how you're doing. He lets out a soft huff of amusement at your behavior, a hint of fondness in his eyes.

You're so lost in the food, you don't even notice the older man taking a picture of you. All your focus is singular, eating as much as you can before it’s taken away. The man watches you with a mix of amusement and something else that you can’t quite place. Too absorbed in your meal to notice his reaction.

Once you’ve practically licked the plate clean, you finally feel a sense of fullness, your little belly pleasantly satisfying. You give yourself a little shake, a little bit of food still stuck to your whiskers. Jason chuckles slightly, watching your little satisfied display. He breaks the silence as you finish cleaning yourself off.

“Had enough?” he asks in a gruff voice. His words are gruff and blunt, but you can sense the touch of amusement within them. You let out a little huff, feeling satisfied but also a little bit embarrassed at how fast you had eaten. Too much food, you think, your little stomach feeling a bit bloated.

The next thirty minutes pass by in a blur, your mind fuzzy and filled with the sensation of being inside Jason’s leather jacket as he mounts his bike. He doesn't have a bag or carrier to keep you secure, so you cling onto his shirt for dear life, your little claws digging tightly into the fabric. The wind whips through your fur as the bike roars to life, the force of the breeze making you instinctively cling even harder.

You had assumed that Jason was simply taking you back to the spot where he had found you under the car. After all, there was no chance in hell that you were going to poke your head out of the top of his jacket to check yourself. However, as he stops the bike and unzips the jacket, revealing your familiar surroundings, your tail begins to fluff up in surprise. Your eyes widen as you realize you’re at home, as in, right outside your apartment. The fur on your back bristles, ears folding back. You’re quick to jump off of the vehicle, backing away. What the fuck?

You scramble off Jason's lap and onto the sidewalk, your little paws almost slipping in your haste. The moment you land on the pavement, you take a few stumbling steps back, your tail puffed up and your fur standing on end. How could he possibly know where you live? You hadn’t given away any indication that you lived here, or anywhere for that matter. You had been so careful to stay out of sight, blending into the shadows. There was no way he could have known. And yet… here you are, outside your home. You take a tentative step back, your little feet moving instinctively. Your instincts are screaming at you to run, to get away from this guy who seemingly knew too much about you.

Your eyes dart from the man to the building behind you, your mind racing. Everything inside you is telling you to run, to flee and go hide. You were supposed to be so careful, so cautious about keeping your identity a secret. And now this man standing in front of you, this guy you barely knew, had just pulled up right outside your home. How the hell did he know where you lived? Run, your instincts yell. Run, run, run.

You take another jerky step back, your little paws almost slipping on the rough pavement. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. You almost trip over your own feet, your mind flooded with a mix of fear and confusion. How does he know? How the fuck does he know!? You’ve been so careful, covering your tracks, making sure no one followed you home. But here he is, standing in front of you, looking all too calm and collected. You don’t know what’s worse, the fact that he knows where you live or how calm he seems about it.

You don't waste another second, your little feet moving as fast as they can. Your instincts are screaming at you to run and get away as fast as possible. So that's what you do. You take off like a shot, darting away from the bike, from the man, from everything. Your focus is on nothing except getting away, getting somewhere safe, somewhere away from this guy who apparently knew more than he should. You dart upstairs faster than you thought physically possible, breath coming out laboured as you panic, not bothering to check if anyone’s nearby as you shift back to human, unlocking your door and slamming it closed behind you.

Jason let out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration as he watches you scamper off. "Fuck…” he mutters under his breath, watching as your small form quickly disappears from sight. "I didn’t think that through." He scowls, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected you to panic quite that much.

Your knees suddenly give way, and you collapse to the floor with a thump. Your hand instinctively moves to press against your chest, trying to calm the frantic beating of your heart. Your mind is racing, your body shaking from the adrenaline and panic of the situation. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of your own breathing, your chest heaving as you gasp in sharp breaths.

You feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest, the adrenaline pumping through your veins making it feel like it’s about to explode. You can barely breathe, your gasps for air coming in quick, sharp pants. Your head is swimming, the world around you seeming to spin and tilt with each jerky movement. You can’t think straight, your mind filled with a swirling mix of panic and confusion. It feels like everything is closing in on you, the walls of your apartment suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

You try to focus on taking deep, calming breaths, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. Your breaths come out ragged and uneven, each one feeling like a struggle. Your chest is heaving, your heart pounding against your ribcage so hard you’re starting to wonder if it’ll burst. You drop your head down, resting your forehead against your knees, trying to steady yourself. Your mind is racing, thoughts and questions and doubts swirling in a confusing mess.

You desperately try to calm down, to ease the frantic beating of your heart. But nothing seems to work, the panic and confusion making it nearly impossible to think straight. Your head spins as you struggle to take deep breaths, each one catching in your throat like a lump. You can feel your body trembling, your muscles tense and coiled like a spring about to snap. The thought of the man outside your door, the man that knew where you lived, makes your stomach twist in knots.

It feels like your privacy has been invaded, your safe sanctuary no longer feeling so safe. You feel exposed, vulnerable, like a small, trapped animal. Your mind races, trying to come up with some kind of plan, some kind of solution to this messed up situation. But you’re too lost in your own head, too focused on calming your panicked breathing to come up with anything coherent.

You feel like you’re drowning, your body overwhelmed by the flood of emotions and the physical response. You need to get yourself under control, to get your thoughts sorted out and figure out what the hell to do. But it feels like your mind and your body are in a constant tug-of-war with each other, neither one willing to give in. It’s like being stuck in a nightmare that you can’t wake up from.

You’re suddenly aware of the silence in your apartment. It’s an eerie stillness that seems to echo the chaos in your mind. The only sound is the soft rush of your own breathing, the beat of your heart a steady drum in your ears. It’s too quiet, and yet it’s almost deafening at the same time. You stay slumped on the floor, your head still against your knees, too overwhelmed to even think about getting up. You can’t breathe.

Your lungs feel like they’re on fire, each breath a struggle against the tight feeling in your chest. Your body is shaking, the adrenaline and panic having physical effects that you’re powerless to stop. You try to focus on calming yourself down, to get your breathing under control, but it’s like trying to hold onto water. Your lungs seizing up with each gasping breath. You try to focus on your breathing, trying to steady the erratic rhythm. But it’s like your body won’t obey, each inhale sharp and uneven, each exhale ragged. You can feel your pulse throbbing in your temples, echoing the desperate rhythm of your heart. You need to get yourself together, to calm down. You need to calm down.

You try to mentally force yourself to calm, to slow down your breathing, but it’s like every part of your body is working against you. Your thoughts are a tangled mess, swirling around in your head like a storm. Your heart is still racing, the panic and fear making it almost impossible to concentrate. You try to focus on something, anything to try and control the chaotic mess that is your mind. But your thoughts keep slipping away, dancing just out of reach every time you try to grasp them. You can't think, you can't breathe, you can't move.

You’re trapped in your own mind, your own body. You feel so small, so helpless, so utterly alone. The silence in your apartment is deafening, adding to the feeling of isolation. You try to will yourself to move, but you’re stuck, paralyzed by your own fear and panic. Your heart is still thundering in your chest, the erratic beats echoing in your ears as you try to force your lungs to take slow, steady breaths. You need to calm down. You need to.

You force your shoulders to relax, your eyes fluttering open. Okay, okay… You can do this. You try to remember the steps you learned for managing panic attacks. Breathe in for four, hold for… You can’t think. Your brain is fuzzy, filled with a jumbled mess of thoughts and memories. You try to remember the proper way to do it but your mind refuses to cooperate. Four or seven? Or was it nine? Exhale for eight. Fuck, I can’t think.

Your mind is a blur, your thoughts chaotic and tangled. You can’t remember the step-by-step process. Something about breathing in for a certain number of seconds, holding it, and exhaling for another number of seconds. But the details are a hazy mess, your panic making it impossible to remember clearly. You try your best, sucking in a shaky breath and holding it for what you think is the right amount of time. But your heart is still racing, your hands still trembling. It’s not working. Why isn’t it working? Why the fuck isn’t it working?

Jason stands against his bike, his gaze fixed on the window of your apartment. He's on the phone with Bruce, his voice low and filled with frustration. "I know, I know…" he mutters, raking a hand through his hair. "I fucked up," he admits, grimacing at his own carelessness.

He listens as Bruce responds, his eyes never leaving the window. He can feel the weight of his mistake sitting heavily on his shoulders. He should have known that you'd react the way you did, and he should have stuck to the plan. But he didn’t. He just acted, without thinking. Just like always, his conscience needles him.

Jason sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly as Bruce continues to speak. He knows Bruce is right, he always is. He’s good at saying the things that are hard to hear but desperately needed to be said. It’s part of what makes him great, but it also makes him irritating sometimes. Like right now.

"I know," Jason replies, his voice slightly sharp. "I get it. But what am I supposed to do now?"

There’s a pause as Bruce replies, his voice muffled over the phone. Jason’s face tightens, his jaw clenching as he listens. Yeah, yeah. Be patient. Easy for you to say.

"I know,” he repeats, his voice strained. "But the kid bolted before I could even get a word in. Now they’re probably scared shitless in there."

There's another pause. Jason can hear the steady timbre of Bruce’s voice on the other end, his words blending in a stream of low, soothing murmurs. He rolls his eyes, bristling at the older man's calm, steady tone. It always makes him feel like a kid being lectured, even though a part of him knows it’s not entirely untrue.

He lets out another sigh, his body sagging against his bike. "I’m trying," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I messed up, alright? I’ll give ‘em time to cool off." He glances back at your apartment, a pang of something he can’t quite identify tugging at his chest.

He nods along to whatever Bruce is saying, his eyes flickering back to your apartment window. He wonders if you're watching him from behind those blinds, if you’re scared, angry, confused. Probably all three, his mind supplies.

He winces at the thought, his hand tightening around his phone. He hates the thought that he might have screwed this up before it even really started. Bruce is probably right, he should give you space. But the thought of just leaving you alone and confused chafes at him, makes him want to just go in there and fix things already. He knows Bruce can feel his tension, can sense the turmoil roiling beneath his stoic exterior. Damn Batman and his stupid emotional intuition.

"Yeah, I get it," he mutters into the phone, his voice tight. "I’ll back off, give them space. But I don’t like it." There's another pause as Bruce responds, his voice low and steady.

It soothes something in him, a part of him that still yearns for guidance and approval, even though he knows he’ll never admit it. It’s a part of him that he usually denies, pushes down, but moments like these have a way of bringing it to the surface.

He's silent for a moment, letting Bruce speak. The older man's voice is steady, a low, grounding murmur that somehow manages to both soothe and irritate him at the same time. He's always been good at that, somehow finding the exact words needed to either calm him down or piss him off even more.

Jason clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth together in frustration. He’s torn. Part of him wants to just march up there, kick down the door and force you to talk to him. But he also knows that would just make things worse. He’s not good at the whole patience thing, but he knows that just charging in like a bull in a china shop is only going to make things more difficult. Damn it. He swings his leg over his bike, settling onto the seat. He takes one final look up at your window, his gaze lingering there for a moment. He can almost feel the weight of your fear and confusion from here, like a tangible thing. It makes his stomach twist into knots, his hands clenching on the grips.

But he knows he needs to let you be, to give you the space you clearly need. So, with a heavy sigh, he revs the engine and pulls away.

You wake up with a start, your body jerking out of a fitful sleep. Your body is covered in a cold sweat, your clothes sticking to your skin in an unpleasant way. You sit there in the darkness, your breathing heavy and your heart thumping hard in your chest.

Your room is still, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft sounds of the city outside your window.

Three long weeks have passed since you last saw Jason. The days have slipped by in a blur of routine and monotony. You go to work, come home, eat, sleep, repeat. It's like you're living your life on autopilot, your thoughts often drifting to the man who showed up at your door that night.

Since that night, you haven’t shifted. Something deep inside you, some instinctual feeling, tells you that it’s not safe to do so. So you stay human, your animal form buried deep within you, a constant low hum of unease. The feeling of something bad happening if you shift is a constant nagging in the back of your mind, a feeling you can’t shake despite your attempts to dismiss it as paranoia.

The longer you stay human, the stronger your instincts become. You catch yourself acting cat-like in subtle ways: tilting your head to the side when you're listening, twitching at sharp noises, even finding yourself kneading at your shirt when you’re frustrated. It’s a constant internal struggle, your instincts demanding to be let out while your rational mind tells you to keep them contained. You know it’s not healthy, not sustainable, but you can’t shake the feeling that shifting is just too risky right now.

You’re acutely aware of how unhealthy this is. You can feel the tension building within you, the constant battle between your human side and your animal side wearing you down mentally and emotionally. Your thoughts are constantly consumed with the need to shift, the need to be in your animal form, the need to let your instincts take over. But something inside you is holding you back, some primal fear that won’t let you let go. It’s a constant struggle you can’t escape, a constant mental strain that's slowly but surely eating away at your sanity.

You groggily stumble out of bed, the cool night air hitting your skin like a refreshing splash of water. It’s late, the digital clock on your bedside table reading 2:47 AM. You shiver slightly, your muscles tight and cramped from your restless sleep. Despite the chill in the air, you can’t help the feeling of relief as you step out onto your balcony. The city is quiet at this hour, the usual bustle of the day replaced with a soothing, almost eerie calm.

In a moment of clarity, you realize you’re being ridiculous. You’re tired, you’re frustrated, and damn it you’re tired of living in constant fear. You’ve been tormenting yourself for weeks over this, letting your instincts fester and your body ache from the strain. And for what? What's going to happen in the middle of the night on a Wednesday? Nothing, that’s what. And you’re not going to keep making yourself ill over some bastard stalker.

With a rush of determination, you finally give in. You let your instincts take over, your body shifting and contorting into your animal form. The relief is immediate, the tension in your body melting away as you shed your human skin. The cool night air is even more refreshing in this form, your senses heightened as you take in the night around you. Finally, you feel like you can breathe again, the weight of your human anxieties falling away like a heavy coat. You felt free.

The world looks different through your animal eyes, the details sharper and more defined. Your ears twitch, picking up sounds you'd never notice in your human form. Your muscles twitch as your animal instincts kick in, a low purring sound rumbling through your chest. It's been so long since you've let yourself be like this, since you've just been. It's exhilarating, freeing, like coming up for air after being stranded underwater for too long.

You pad over to the edge of the balcony, your paws making almost no sound on the wood. You look out at the city, the glittering lights and silent streets a stark contrast to the chaotic hum during the day. It’s quieter, calmer, a sense of peace that you haven’t felt in ages. You take a deep breath, the air filling your lungs and making your fur stand on end. You feel more alive here, more yourself, than you have in weeks.

Your muscles ripple under your fur as you stretch, arching your back and tilting your head back. A low, rumbling purr vibrates in your chest, the contentment filling you almost overwhelming. You close your eyes, letting the sounds and smells of the city wash over you. You’ll deal with everything else in the morning. For now, you’re going to stay like this and enjoy the freedom.

You sit there for a while, enjoying the cool night air and the sensation of being so deeply in tune with your instincts. The city sounds become a soothing background noise, a comforting hum in the air. You roll onto your back, stretching out your body and letting your limbs go limp. Your tail swishes lazily back and forth.

You roll onto your stomach, your muscles coiling as you prepare to spring. With a powerful leap, you propel yourself onto the nearby roof. Your paws touch down silently, the soft pads muting any sound. Your heart is racing now, the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you break into a run. Running as an animal is different than running as a human. It’s more instinctual, more right. You can feel the ground underneath your paws, the muscles in your legs bunching and releasing with every step. You tear across the rooftops, feeling more alive than you have in weeks. The night air whistles in your ears, the city passing by in a blur.

Your stride is effortless, muscles straining as you push yourself faster, the wind ruffling your fur and making your tail fan out behind you. You leap effortlessly from rooftop to rooftop, your body a blur of motion. You’re not even thinking about where you’re going, your only focus is on the sensation of speed, the feeling of freedom. Gotham flashes past you in a dizzying array of lights and shadows, your world narrowing down to your heartbeat and the rhythm of your paws hitting the roof.

Time seems to blur together as you run, the hours flying by like seconds. The city blurs past you in a wash of colors and sounds, the lights of Gotham like stars in a night sky. You don’t focus on how long you’ve been running, or how far you’ve gone, or even where you’re going. For once, none of that matters. All that matters is the wind in your fur and the feeling of freedom coursing through your veins. Your body is sore and your heart is racing, but you feel alive.

You're so focused on the run that you don't notice the black boots in your path until you're upon them. You slam on the brakes, your body slipping and sliding as you come to an undignified halt in front of a pair of long, outstretched legs. You hiss in surprise and frustration, your heart racing from the sudden stop. You glare up at the figure towering above you, tail lashing.

Nightwing chuckles, a soft, amused sound that you can hear clearly even over the pounding of your heart. He lowers his eskrima sticks, holding them loosely by his side as he kneels down to your level. The hero's eyes are sparkling with mirth, his smile slightly crooked.

"Well, hello there." he says, his voice smooth and rich.

He tilts his head to the side, studying you with a curious gaze. You're still panting from your run, your body tense and braced for a fight. Nightwing's smile widens at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

"You're pretty fast," he remarks, a hint of amusement in his voice. He extends his hand towards you, the black, latex covering his fingers gleaming in the low light. He stops just millimeters from your face, allowing you to sniff and inspect him for a moment. His scent is clean and crisp, a hint of something sweet mixed in.

After a few seconds, he starts gently petting you, his gloved hand scratching behind your ears in a soothing motion. “You’re even prettier in person, kitten.”

A wave of unexpected pleasure washes over you as he starts petting you. His touch is firm yet gentle, just the right amount of pressure to soothe the tension in your body. His hand moves from behind your ears to scratching behind your chin, the soft hiss of latex against your fur the only sound in the quiet night. The petting feels ten times better after not shifting after such a long time. You lean heavily into his palm.

“You’re a runner, huh?” Nightwing murmurs, his voice a soft rumble. “Bruce isn’t gonna like that.”

His words are casual, almost conversational, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness to them. He continues to pet you, his hand moving in a slow, soothing rhythm.

“Running around Gotham like this,” he continues, his tone dropping lower. “It’s dangerous. You should stick to the rooftops, little one. Makes it harder for the baddies to get to you.”

As your attention is occupied with looking up at Nightwing, you don’t recognise the second pair of boots that approach. You’re jolted out of your thoughts as another pair of warm hands suddenly scoop you up, grabbing your stomach and lifting you off the ground. The sensation is so sudden and unexpected that you don’t even have time to react. A startled yowl escapes you as you’re lifted off the roof and held against a broad chest.

Your body stiffens in surprise, a low hiss escaping your clenched teeth. Your instincts are screaming at you to flee, to lash out, to fight, but the hands have you in an unbreakable grip.

Nightwing straightens up, sliding his eskrima sticks into their holsters with a practiced flick of his wrists. He casts you a glance, his eyes softened with concern as he looks at your tense form in Robin’s arms.

"Careful, Little D," he says, a slight edge to his voice. "The kitty hasn’t been out in a long time."

Damian just scoffs in response, his grip on you tightening. His body is tense, his hands clenching in your fur, but there’s a gleam of curiosity in his eyes that betrays his indifference. His voice is as haughty as ever, a touch of impatience in his tone. "I know that, Grayson. I'm not a child."

Nightwing hums at Robin’s attitude, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning against a nearby AC unit with a slight sigh.

"Sure you're not,” he responds back to Robin with a playful tone of annoyance.

Damian just huffs, tightening his grip on you, causing you to let out a surprised, muffled meow in response. His eyes dart down to you, a slight flicker of fascination in his cold, calculated gaze. He loosens his hold subconsciously. Petting your head in a silent apology.

The younger boy doesn’t respond to Dick’s remark, motioning for him to hurry up already.

With a grin, Dick holds his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. He reaches into his utility belt and procures a small, emerald green and black collar. A symbol you can’t recognise embroidered onto the back where the latch is.

This isn't any average collar that you can find at a pet store. This is high-tech, bordering extravagant. There's a small, golden bell hanging from the front, jingling softly with every little movement made, and there’s a silver, gold-edged tag already attached with some information you can't see yet. But what catches your eye, and fills you with a sense of dread, is the blinking red light on the centre, where it latches onto your neck. With these hook-like latches all around the inside that look all too much like they’ll pierce into you.

Before you can even think to react, Nightwing's already moving. He's faster than you can even register, the collar snatching around your neck in the blink of an eye. It tightens automatically, locking into place with a soft click. You can feel the hooks pierce into your fur and you let out a strangled whine.

As the collar locks into place, the bell on the front gleams in the low light, a soft jingle sounding as you jerk your head back in surprise.

Nightwing steps back, taking in the sight of you in the collar with a critical eye. He reaches forward and gives the bell a couple of light taps, the sound chiming softly in the night air.

"Looks good," he comments, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. "Tim did good."

Damian hums in agreeance with a slight nod, his grip on you still firm and unrelenting. He casts a scrutinising glance over your form, his eyes lingering on the collar for a moment before moving back to you. He brings his thumb to the latch, pushing into the embroidered symbol. “What was the cast?”

As Damian brings his thumb to the latch, pressing into the embroidered symbol, you hear a soft click, followed by a low chime. You feel the collar loosen around your neck, but it still stays in place. For a moment, you consider trying to tear it off, but a warning tug from the collar's hooks and a glare from Damian stop you short.

Dick grins. “It’s our kittens name, D.”

Damian scowls, rolling his eyes, but he doesn't argue. Instead, he turns his attention back to you, his eyes studying your form intently. It's almost unnerving, the intensity of his gaze.

He presses his thumb against the seal harder, his voice a murmur as he utters your name. When you feel the collar tighten around your neck, you try to jerk your head back out of the way, but the collar holds fast, the hooks attaching themselves deeper into your fur. You try to resist, but the more you struggle, the more your mind grows fuzzy. An intense drowsiness rushes over you, your eyelids growing impossibly heavy. Your vision starts to swim, the world around you growing dark at the edges. As the collar locks into place, the hooks latching more snugly into you, you suddenly feel trapped. Your legs buckle underneath you, sending you sprawling into Damian's arms. The latch on the collar is gone, replaced by a solid, unbreakable ring. There is no way to take it off.

The collar appears deceptively normal, made of a thick dark green leather-like material with a simple golden buckle to secure it. The only thing that gives away its high-tech design is the absence of a latch to clip it open. Most people would overlook it, mistaking it for a regular, ordinary collar.

As you black out and lay heavily in Damian's arms, Dick coos softly, bringing a hand out to rub along your fur. His touch is gentle, his tone affectionate.

"Aren't they so cute asleep?" he whispers, his gaze softening as he looks at your unconscious form.

Damian nods silently in response, his embrace around you tightening just slightly, tugging you closer against his chest. He brings his face down, gently nuzzling his chin into your soft, multicoloured fur, hiding the hint of a smile on his lips.

Dick steps forward, a smile on his face as he watches his younger brother hold you close. He reaches out to ruffle Damian's hair affectionately, before speaking up.

"Let's go home."

Guess who spent three days working on this

Anyway, it’s finally out! Send a comment or msg if you would like to be @ in chapter two and for any anon answers that I do for the fic

I had milk and warm cookies while making this, like a child.

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hashtagcigarette · 11 days ago

Text

Lisa Frank

summary: joel doesn't like you poking fun at his age. you make it your mission to prove to him that his age isn't a point against him.

warnings: unprotected piv, lil makeout sesh, reader is afab & able bodied but otherwise not described, pet names (angel, little girl, kid (once... dont look at me), baby, etc.), joel smokes, lowkey sub!joel for a second before he finds his voice lol, creampie, im probably forgetting some sorry folks

word count: 3k

note: this is truly just pure filth and a very small teenie weenie bit of plot surrounding joel's insecurity about his age. im horny for old peepaw joel what can i say. also i havent posted fic on tumblr in like 6 years so,,,, hello? ++ no beta we die like men or whatever they're saying now.

The ground between the small, square plots in your neighborhood became soft and jagged with fresh grass in the late spring, absent only in the shadows of the trailers and in the places where kiddie pools filled with hose water flattened the growth against the earth. You had a kiddie pool against your will– when your air conditioning had gone out, Joel had dropped a pink, plastic one at your front door with a sticky note inside that read, “DON’T DIE OF HEAT STROKE”.

And as trashy as it looked in your front yard between the orange picnic table and the rusted wire clothesline, you couldn’t help but stumble into it most mornings when you woke up sweating. You liked it even more when you had the willpower to drive to the liquor store and get a bag of ice to dump into it. This morning in particular, you’d even grabbed yourself an ice cream sandwich.

The freshly risen sun projected a yellow-orange hue through the high grass and onto the soles of your bare feet as they poked from the edge of the pool, the angle at which it shone reminiscent of six-ish-AM. Joel would be leaving for work soon, you knew, and your eyes rested on his front door as you slid your ice cream sandwich out of its wrapper.

He was one of the only neighbors you (sometimes) got along with. There was something about a stranger in town that gave folks the creeps, he had said, though you’d lived there a year already and no one seemed to be getting any friendlier.

As if you’d made it happen with your mind, a few seconds after you’d glanced in the direction of Joel’s trailer, the door swung open and smacked against the wall. His work shirt waved through the air like a flag as he tossed it over his shoulder, descending the steps in only a white undershirt and a pair of jeans that had absolutely seen better days. The jingle of his keys as he shoved them into his pocket was the only sound, save for the soft trickle of the hose into your pool.

You grinned as he stepped out from beneath the overhang and into the light. He put a cigarette into his mouth, looking you over.

“This is gluttony if I’ve ever seen it,” he said, fishing a lighter out of his pocket.

You forced a frown, flicking water onto his pant leg with your toe. “You bought the pool.”

“Yeah. Just didn’t expect the ice cream sandwich.” His lighter was red and dented, glinting in the sun as he flicked it beneath his thumb. Bending at the waist, he shielded his smoke from the breeze with a broad hand and rolled the sparkwheel in a continuous tempo, clicking and clicking and clicking as the sound of the hose dripping into the pool droned on.

You huffed, pushing yourself up on your arms. “C’mere. I got one.”

And boy, did you. It was a gaudy thing encrusted with purple rhinestones and a ripoff-Lisa-Frank decal, and it reflected the sunlight from the green, metal table that sat beside the kiddie pool. He knelt in the grass as you reached for it, watching your nearly bare body stretch and your wet hand tighten around the lighter’s bedazzled surface.

Resting his arm over his knee, he offered his hand, palm-up, and you placed the lighter into it with a grin.

“I think it’s your style,” you chirped, biting your ice cream sandwich as he looked the thing over.

He shook his head and lit his smoke, biting down on the filter like an amputee would bite down on a scrap of leather. “How’d you know? Think it goes with my outfit?”

“Oh, yeah. Pink brings out yer eyes. Makes you look younger.”

“Younger?” Joel wiggled his eyebrows, puffing out a ring of smoke and placing the lighter back into your hand. “How much younger, you reckon?”

Mocking thought, you pressed your finger to your chin, looking him over through your eyebrows. “You could pass for seventy five, give or take a couple’a years.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, little girl.”

“Okay, fine. Sixty.”

He shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder as the sun rose steadily over the hill behind the parking lot. It must’ve been nearly seven by then, making him nearly late to work.

You wiggled your toes, thumbing ice cream from the corner of your mouth and then licking it off. “Maybe fifty nine, if you’re lucky.”

“I am fifty nine.”

“Yeowch. Sorry.”

The muscles in his jaw twitched, sweat reflecting the morning light and accentuating the nearly invisible motion as he suckled the filter of his cigarette. When he glanced back at you, brown eyes blinking slowly in true kicked-puppy fashion, you giggled.

“‘M sorry. Didn’t know your age was a sore subject.”

“‘S not a sore subject.”

“Seems like it is.”

Joel exaggerated his pout, batting his eyes as he took a slow drag and blew smoke out the side of his mouth. “You’re just kickin’ an old man when he’s down, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you poor baby.” You cupped his jaw with your wet hand, soothing the coase facial hair beneath your thumb as a faux sob fell from his lips. His acting was a little sub-par (and he was much less funny than he realized, carrying on like he was) but Joel knew how to pull on your heart strings. Clicking your tongue, you said, “I don’t think you’re too old, honey. You’re just right.”

The pretend look of devastation remained on his face even as his eyes opened, both sides of his mouth contorting downwards into a pathetic glower. “Just right for what?”

But then you were too close to him, and his face was in your palm, and he was realizing that you hadn’t really touched him before this as you took a slow bite of your ice cream sandwich with your free hand. He could feel the bit falling away for a moment, face falling as you inched closer, heat pressing down on the both of you from all sides as the sun continued to rise.

You clicked your tongue again, grinning. “For a Lisa Frank lighter.”

Joel’s face faltered yet again, wide eyes blinking at you as you started to laugh. He cleared his throat, blinking. “Oh. Real funny.”

Your shoulders vibrated and you hung your head as you giggled, tossing the half-eaten ice cream sandwich into the grass beside the pool. “Wait–” you said with a smile in your voice as he started to stand, the hand on his face trailing down to his collar to pull him back down.

Joel, who had stopped thinking this was funny several moments ago, swallowed hard, watching as you flicked your sticky fingers in the water. He met your eyes again sheepishly when you said his name, sweat reflecting the blinding sun at his temple.

“Joel,” you said, still smiling. “I’m kidding. I’m sorry.”

And as needlessly embarrassed as he felt, he still couldn’t help but relish the feeling of you cupping his face, holding him with one hand as, with the other, you fidgeted and flicked beads of water into the air. You laughed softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“Let me show you what I think you’re just right for, hm?”

And that was how he ended up in your trailer, sitting on the edge of your bed, becoming more and more late to work as the minutes crawled by. You straddled his lap, facing him, holding his jaw in your hands and looking him over with exaggerated admiration.

Joel was sweating, and he was sure that even if your air conditioning hadn’t been broken and even if it hadn’t been over a hundred out that day, he still would’ve felt feverish. His hands held your hips in a vice grip, nervous twitch entirely evident as his left wrist vibrated against you.

You gnawed on your lower lip, fingers moving up to thread into his hair.

When you breathed out a hushed “You’re so pretty”, it elicited from him the smallest of chuckles, only slightly audible over the sound of your ragged breathing. As if testing the waters, he slid his hand from your hip to your waist, squeezing you there instead.

“Oh yeah?” He dug the tips of his fingers into your damp skin, blunt nails and calluses pressing just a bit too hard, surely leaving marks.

Your bathing suit was an old red one, something you’d bought for yourself before you’d moved to Austin, something loose and outrageously easy to untie. Joel’s tremor was the only thing keeping you from tearing it from your body and tossing it to the floor– you didn’t want to scare him off. “Yeah,” you parotted, petting the scruff on his cheek with the gentlest pressure. Then, impatiently: “You wanna kiss me, cowboy?”

Joel swallowed, body becoming tense again beneath you. His face warmed beneath your fingers as he nodded, fingers drumming at your side. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, meeting your gaze. “Yes. Please.”

You’d pictured kissing him before– it was something you did in secret, watching him from the window beside your bed in the evenings when he’d get home late from work, waiting for him to come back out with a beer and sit on his front steps. It was something you were embarrassed of and something you would never ever tell him about, but your fantasies stirred in the back of your mind as you finally did kiss him, pressing up onto your knees with his face in your hands.

He was more timid than you’d imagined, but you weren’t surprised by this. Anyone would seem timid compared to the way you’d pictured him– rugged, aggressive, uncaring as he took what he needed. That was the Joel you made up in your head when you touched yourself at night.

This Joel was visibly nervous, hand still trembling against your waist as he returned the kiss, soft lips drinking you in. This Joel pressed you against him like you might fall away, kissed you back unsteadily at first, but quickly gained confidence. This Joel, as the moments dragged on, brought his shaking hands up to hold your head, to steady the both of you.

You could feel him relaxing as you licked into his mouth and pride swelled in your chest, pressing out of you like steam escaping a whistling kettle. Your hands found his shoulders and, breaking away, you squeezed them, ensuring he was entirely real.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathed against his lips, eyes flicking open, searching his features for any hint of hesitation.

He met your gaze with a small smile and, to your surprise, gripped the back of your neck with an unyielding fervor, pressing you towards him again and laying a wet kiss at the corner of your mouth. “Oh yeah?” he said again with a grin seeping through his features.

The tremor in his wrist had calmed somewhat, you noticed as you reached back and took his free hand from your waist, threading your fingers together. He guided you with this hand, pushing you gently off of him and onto your bed where you landed flat on your back. Your wet bathing suit surely left spots of water on the quilt beneath you, but no part of you cared enough to pay it any mind.

As Joel crawled over you, callused hands running over your bare stomach, you smiled at him.

“You been thinkin’ about this?” you asked, reaching for his face again as he dipped down to kiss you.

His fingers ran down your middle, gingerly dancing over your bikini bottoms. “Been thinkin’ about you since the day you moved in, darlin’.” The tips of his fingers dragged tortuously lower, splitting the seam of your cunt with his knuckles through the fabric. Gently, he cupped your mound, pressing his palm against you as he buried his face in your neck. “Spread your legs, angel. Be good f’me.”

You did as he said, even as a smirk crossed your face. It took everything in you to mutter “Be good?” as he pressed his thick fingers against your slit again, bikini bottoms digging against your little nub with the most delicious friction. Attempting to regain your composure as he worked you, you continued: “Don’t get cocky, old man.”

“Oh, none’a that,” said Joel as one finger ventured beneath the fabric, exploring your slick. The timid Joel seemed to have disappeared completely, having been replaced by whoever the hell this was. “You speak to your elders with respect, you understand?”

You keened, partly at his words and partly at the feeling of his callused fingertip brushing over your clit, pressing the bud in what seemed to be an experimental manner. As he began to prod your button, movements jerky and desperate, his free hand gripped the back of your neck.

“Come on,” he said, meeting your eyes with a self-satisfied grin. “Tell me you understand. Say ‘yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir,” you complied immediately.

“That’s what I wanna hear, kid. That’s it.”

He worked you for a minute or so, enjoying the feel of your little bud beneath his fingertips, and a frankly pitiful whimper escaped you when his hand retreated from between your legs. Squirming, you brought your knees to your chest, watching as his hands found his belt.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked as he slid the leather from the loops on his jeans, discarding it on the dirty carpet and fishing for his zipper.

“Please, Joel.” Your voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper, floating from you as you watched him jerk his jeans down his hips.

He was leaning over you again before you could get a glimpse of his cock, pulling himself out of his boxers as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it– slipping between your wet lips, bulbous head pressing against your clit. “So polite,” he said, trembling as he ran himself up and down your slit. “Say it again.”

“Please.”

You must’ve asked nicely enough because then he was inching forward, pressing the fat head of his cock into you with no regard for the painful stretch, relishing in the pull of your little hole around him. A strangled sound left his mouth, whimpers pouring out of him like water from a broken tap.

You winced at the stretch, gripping his shirt in two closed fists. He gave you a distracted glare when a “fuck” escaped you, leaning over you and caging you in with both broad arms.

“Language,” he said, though as close as he was to bottoming out, your curses didn’t deter him.

When he was fully inside, pulsing length filling you entirely and stretching your poor hole to oblivion, he only paused for a moment before he began to move. Sweat gleamed off his forehead, reflecting the morning light from your bedroom window like soft, slick glitter and accentuating the concentrated twitch of the muscles in his jaw.

The pull of his cock dragging slowly out of your hole had you scrambling for purchase, arms looping around the back of his neck. “Joel. Jesus–”

“I know, I know,” he cooed, shushing you as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “You can take it. Just ease into it.”

“Want it so bad,” you panted as he moved back in, feeling his tip rip its way through you again on its trajectory to your cervix. You shook, feeling his lips trail down your jaw. “Want you to force it in, Joel.”

This made him laugh under his breath, a deep chuckle that reverberated against the low ceiling. He met your eyes with a grin as he pressed himself deeper, enjoying the way your face contorted. “You’re real fucked up, you know that, baby?”

“You like it,” you breathed, gnawing on your lower lip.

“Yeah, I do.”

As you relaxed around him, Joel found a pace somewhere between painfully slow and forcefully ragged, something steady that made you keen and squirm beneath his broad form. He pumped himself into you like every stroke was the most important one, brows knit together in concentration, feeling every bit of you drag up and down his massive length.

“So tight, angel. Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. The big arms that pressed the mattress down on either side of your head tightened and relaxed, pulsing in time with his strokes. “Not gonna last too long, little girl.”

The look that you gave him made him shake his head, gritting his back teeth. “Not gonna cum in you,” he said sternly, though the slam of his hips said otherwise.

You bit the inside of your cheek, brows knitting together. “How come?”

“What do you mean, how come, girl?”

“‘M on the pill.”

“‘S the principal of the thing, kid,” he hissed through his teeth, hanging his head as he fucked into you. His strokes were becoming sloppy and forceful, body slapping against yours with reckless, cacophonous abandon. “Fuck, ‘m close. Where do you want it?”

“In me.”

“Not funny.”

“I’m not bein’ funny.”

Each time he thrust into your little hole, a whine left you, fingers threading uncoordinatedly through his hair. Meeting his eyes, you craned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, tongue darting out to lick into his mouth. “Please, Joel,” you whimpered, watching as his face lost any look of composure. “Want your cum in me.”

“Angel.” A warning.

“Please.”

Joel hung his head once more, pressing his forehead into the crook of your neck, hands coming to grip your waist so tightly that his fingers would leave faint bruises. His resolve was slipping; his hips twitched, jerking as he pressed into you.

“Fuck. Okay, baby. Okay.”

And then his orgasm was ripping through him, making his muscles spasm and his face go slack. His cum was thick and hot, shooting from his cock like a medication drip and filling your hole to the point of overflow. Each time you thought he was done, another spurt hit your insides, ripping a low whine from deep in his chest.

When he finally collapsed on top of you, cock softening, he buried his nose in the crook of your neck. His grip on your waist still hadn't loosened, still holding you in place as he panted.

You watched the muscles in his back rise and fall, moving with his rapid breath, heart hammering against you. His greying hair caught the morning light, compelling you to put your fingers in it, to brush it back tenderly from his face.

“Thought you had work,” you said quietly, fingers dancing at the base of his neck.

Joel snorted. His eyes were closed. “Thought you thought I was too old.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou hbo #tlou #smut #tlou smut #old man joel #how i love you #peepaw #coquette #lana del rey #aesthetic #anyways #joel miller x you

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elliezlils11utt · 4 months ago

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☆ 𐙚˙✧˖

ive had this idea for sooo longg. Jinx!whos braids are her prized possession. so when your hands end up in her freshly rebraided hair when shes eating you out, she has to stop everything shes doing (abusing your cunt) to scold you.

“fuck jinx, right there.” you pant, back arching on the bed as your girlfriend devours you entirely. now as soon as you hands snake into the blue hue of her braided locks, you KNOW you’ve messed up. your eyes squeeze up, and you wince just THINKING about incoming lecture youve received dozens of times before. you curse under you’re breath when jinx stops her tongue. quickly you try to fix her now frizzy hair frantically.

“how many times do i have to tell you not to touch the braids, literally ANYTHING BUT the braids.” she fakes irritation, lifting her head from her spot between your legs and instead sits criss cross between them. she places your legs over her own. of course this silly girl has seemingly forgotten about eating you out and is way more worried about her hair. droning on and on about how long it takes for her to braid her ankle length hair, and how your going to be the one rebraiding it after messing it up. you giggle at her antics.

“im sorryyyyyyy.” you giggle again.

“oh is this funny to you toots?” she points up at her puffy roots, a toothy smile on her face.

“eh, i mean a little.” you shrug, stifling a laugh. she looks like shes just gotten electrocuted. jinx climbs over your body and attacks you with tickles. her hands finding the spot that has you rolling around in a laughing fit immediately.

“funny now?? huh? huh?” she taunts, now straddling you. honestly she’s probably laughing more than you. you try to push her off of you when your stomach starts to cramp up from giggling so much. she gives in after you threaten to pee yourself between huffs. once you’ve caught your breath you tease her.

“god ur so annoying.”

“oh and im going to be even more annoying when i make you unbraid and rebraid my hair later tonight.” she drags herself between your thighs again.

“pfftt as if.”

she kisses your thighs and looks back up at you and deadpans her face.

“oh im being so for real.” she flashes a grin a resumes licking you up like nothing happened.

a/n: i love this silly girl. loser!jinx core? i have a loser!ellie obsession and now i’ve created loser!jinx… i think i have a type😓

#arcane fandom #arcane fanfic #arcane jinx #jinx x fem!reader #jin x reader #jinx smut #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx #loser!jinx #wlw #lesbian #girl in red #wuh luh wuh

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draqu1a · 1 month ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A RISKY STREAM . . .

— what kind? : SMUT — warnings : sexual&suggestive content ahead , viewers discretion is adviced , MDNI .

• fic inspired by : @bernardsbendystraws

The neon glow of Matt's gaming rig painted your face in shifting hues as you gripped the controller. "Chris, you seeing this shit?" you yelled into the headset.

Chris, cackled from the other end of the Discord call, his voice echoing through your head set. "Nah, I'm too busy carrying your sorry ass! You are trash tonight."

"Shut up," you retorted, trying to focus on the digital firefight unfolding on the screen. You were sat down on Matt's lap, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, ostensibly to "guide" your gameplay. But tonight, his guidance was… almost distracting.

"Focus, babe," Matt murmured, his breath ghosting against your ear. "There's a guy flanking you on the left."

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one with a hand slowly inching its way under their shared blanket, sending shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the game.

"I see him, I see him," you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your core. Your fingers fumbled on the controller, your carefully constructed fort crumbling under a harsh wave of digital bullets. "Fuck!"

"Language, sweetheart," Matt whispered, his fingers now tracing the curve of your hip, dangerously close to your core. A little squeeze to your hip. The digital bullets blurred. You died.

"God damn it!" you hissed, partially peeling off your head seat . "I’m trying to concentrate here, Matt."

He just grinned, his eyes dark and knowing. "Am I distracting you, baby?"

"Maybe a little," you admitted, trying to inject some playful exasperation into your voice. “Chris thinks we are loosing on purpose.”

Chris’s voice boomed through the speakers. “What was that? Did I hear you two lovebirds finally admit you're throwing the game?"

Matt chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated against your back. "Nah, man, just… strategizing. Right, babe?" His fingers continued their torment, dipping lower and closer with each minute passing by.

"Yeah, strategizing," you managed, your voice a little breathless. You reached for your water bottle, hoping the cool liquid would take out the sudden heat flooding the inside of your body.

"Okay, well strategize faster! We're about to get wiped," Chris complained, oblivious to the silent battle happening beneath the blanket.

Matt leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. "He doesn't need to know how we strategize," he murmured, his fingers now finding the edge of your shorts and dipping below the waistband. "Does he, baby?"

"Matt, stop," you pleaded, even though a part of you was begging him to continue. The chat if they would find out, would go absolutely crazy, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Focus was a blur.

"Stop what? Helping you relax?" he teased, his touch becoming bolder, more insistent. A gasp escaped your lips as his fingers traveled beneath your flimsy lace panties, going right where you needed him the most.

"Dude, are you even listening?" Chris yelled. "There's a whole squad pushing us!"

"—Uh, yeah, Chris. We're on it," Matt said, his voice a little strained. He was watching you, not the screen. His eyes held a promise of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

His fingers slipped inside of your already drenched entrance. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan. The game, Chris, the chat – it all faded into a distant hum. All that mattered was the electrifying sensation building within you, the relentless pressure, the exquisite torture.

"Matt…" you whispered, your voice thick with desire.

"Almost there, baby," he breathed, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive clit while his slender fingers drive out of you with increasing speed and skill. "Just a little more…"

Chris's voice was a distant drone. "Hey, guys! What the hell are you doing? We're already dead!"

You didn't hear him. You couldn't hear anything but the pounding of your own heart, the ragged sound of your own breath, and the soft, satisfied sigh that escaped your lips as pleasure finally overwhelmed you, your gummy walls clenching down and sucking matt’s fingers in deeper as they soaked his digits in your liquids.

The screen went black. Your avatars returning to the main menu as the result of you dying and receiving a low score.

“Kid, I’m out for the night. Try to improve those shitty skills cuz tonight was not it.” Chris announces, taking off his head set before ending the discord call, before you decide to follow along.

Peeking off your own head set and muttering a quick goodbye to the stream, quickly ending the live stream to not raise any further suspicion on what you two were doing the whole game.

"Finally, I now got you all to myself," Matt said, pulling away slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now, where were we?"

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . yappin claudia : second fic on this account :pp, I don’t know how to feel bout this exactly xd but wtv .

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . taglist : @strnilolover @ifwdominicfike @courta13 @sturns-mermaid . . . .

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rongloa · 18 days ago

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𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 | 𝐌. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

↜ CONCEPT | CHAPTER ONE — current ↝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. falling to earth like a comet—brilliant, burning, and broken. you don’t know their ways or their meaning. but there’s no harm in finding one thing for yourself.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬). mark grayson x fem tamarenean! reader

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. future slow burn, future gore, heavy angst, two aliens falling in love w/ each other, invincible series typical violence, extreme misunderstandings, eventual nsfw ( more to be added )

𝐚/𝐧. okay tadaaa! i couldn’t find a good way to start the story without having mark’s pov first. it’s been a long time since i wrote in third person, please go easy on my old 19 year old heart. other than that enjoy guys!

Mark isn’t quite sure why, but no matter how beat up and bruised he gets, Burger Mart is always his go to comfort. Yeah, he used to work there and it was a semi-miserable placeholder until his powers came through, but something about the greasy burgers he shouldn’t even think of eating are just what he needs. He shudders when he thinks about how they’re cooked by kids his age, but takes another bite regardless. Grease drowning his taste buds and the obscene amount of sauces gathering at the corners of his mouth.

Another bite has small bits of stray lettuce fluttering off like morbid green butterflies down past the windows of the apartment complex he chose as his lunch bench today.

The Teen Team were off doing god knows what, he can remember Rex droning on about some silly training exercise or maybe Doc Seismic? The villains just keep appearing and disappearing at this point. It’s not even abnormal to him anymore, just another part of his routine.

Yeah, this was his life.

He’s licking ketchup from his thumb and index shamelessly when, what at first, he thought was thunder—distant, but unnatural. The kind that made your ribs hum and your heart skip a beat with how loudly it travelled. Mark’s eyes flicked toward the skyline just in time to see the very air tear open. A light—an unnatural, blinding flash that painted the whole city in hues of green and gold, like it was another sun spawned right above Chicago. Not fucking good.

And something—someone—bursts through it, a blur of glowing limbs, trailing smoke and sputtering flashes of green.

And just like that, lunch is over.

He doesn’t even think as he drops his half-eaten burger, crumpling the wrapper in one hand as he launches off the edge of the building, mask pulled back on.

Just as he kicked off an immediate alert from the GDA was blaring in his earpiece, the only thing he could remotely make out through the static was Cecil’s voice barking: “Portal opened above Soldier Field Stadium—brace for a fight, and do NOT engage until you assess the situation.”

Too late.

Another one rips across the airspace, jagged and roiling, like it was folding upon itself over and over. He didn’t slow as he flew, not until he saw the needle point that came through the portal.

Three dark, angular shapes emerged, bursting from the edges of the portal with engines that screamed like tortured metal. They were armed. Fast. Purposeful. Starships of some alien species.

Not just one, but two. Two random portals opening right above the lakeside home of the Chicago Bears? Okay, no. Not right now, he shouldn’t even be thinking about football he doesn’t even watch it?

This is pretty bad.

That was the first clear thought cutting through the adrenaline pounding in his skull as he tore through the sky, wind screaming in his ears even through the material of his suit. He could still taste the lost burger on his tongue and feel the ache in his shoulders from yesterday’s training, but all of that vanished the moment the sky first opened up.

And someone was falling out of it.

No, flying—barely. A girl, lit from behind by a glow of hair too long and thick to be human, weaving mid-air like her body was seconds from giving out. Her movements were desperate. Not graceful. Not heroic. Just instinct.

And behind her—the three sleek, black alien ships screaming after her with weapons hot. He didn’t recognize the design, but his gut clenched anyway, flipped a little too hard. Nothing about them looked friendly.

Who the hell are they? Who the hell is she? It churns so oddly in his stomach. By appearances, the ships are the bad ones, but how can he be sure that she isn’t the criminal?

Mark’s body reacted before his brain could organize anything else. His arms locked forward, fists aimed ahead, and he rocketed faster toward her, trying to get a better look, to close the distance.

She was unlike anyone he’d seen—tall or maybe she just seemed that way, oddly toned and battle-worn, skin glowing faintly like a sun kissed her. Her hair blazed behind her like molten metal, so lucious and bright threaded with orange, alive. Even from a distance, she didn’t move like a human.

And her eyes? Bright. Wild. On fire.

He saw the fear there as he flew parallel to her, even before she turned away from him and darted toward the empty stretch of industrial rooftops. She thinks I’m with them, a thought that makes his heart sink yet he’s unsure why.

One of the ships flanked him—gleaming with unfamiliar symbols etched across its hull—letting out a shriek as it fired, a high-pitched frequency Mark felt in his teeth more than he heard. A hand to his head to stop the rattling, he banked right quickly and the ship flew right past him.

“Hey!” He tried calling after her but she only spared a glance. Maybe a wave? Okay definitely not, trying to wave at her seemed to make her even more scared, “I’m here to help!”

She didn’t answer, just pushed herself forward. Those green lights from before flickering at her fists like she was running on fumes. Still, she kept flying away from the built up areas—from the civilians—kept taking the fight to higher altitudes, even as she started to sway in the air.

She’s trying to protect people. Even now.

Another shriek followed and it seared so close to his back he could feel the shudder in his body. But it wasn’t meant for him. The charged black shot was meant for her as she weaved through the buildings.

The girl dodged just in time. She corkscrewed mid-air, her body trailing light. Green energy sparked from her hands, unstable and flickering, but she didn’t slow. She looped between buildings, drawing the ships after her and away from the crowded streets below.

She’s fast, Mark realized, pushing harder to catch up. Not just fast—trained.

That was all the confirmation Mark needed.

She launched a blast over her shoulder. It wasn’t precise—more like a flare of raw power than a targeted shot—but it zipped past him and clipped the edge of the lead ship’s wing, sizzling through the hull with a shriek of melting alloy.

“Alright, okay, okay.” A breath and then another.

Readying his aching shoulders as the ship barrelled ever-forward. He pumped the flight breaks, and the ship slammed right into the shoulder he steadied. The wing of the leading ship tore away from itself like bit of paper. The impact rippled across its plating, panels buckling beneath his shoulder, human wrecking ball. He grabbed hold, swinging it by the frame towards the water, the ship whistled so loudly as it flew, systems screaming, trailing smoke and debris like a dying meteor. His shoulder throbbed from the impact, but the satisfaction was worth it.

“One down!”

The girl looked over her shoulder at him in mid-flight—eyes wide with something like surprise. But before anything could be exchanged, a second ship swooped in from above, its cannon rotating and locking onto her.

Mark’s instincts screamed. “Watch out—!”

The other ship in that split second completely ignored him, flipping him away with the raw power of the engines. He just took out the most advanced looking ship, and they just flew right past? Hyperfocused on her.

Snapping from his stupor he moves right back into motion. Don’t stop, he grits his teeth, body pushing into motion once more— It’s not over yet, Mark.

They were trying to flank the girl from both sides. Mark moved fast, putting himself between her and the closest one. But this ship was faster, smarter—it fired a charged blast before he could dodge, slamming him in the chest.

Pain flared white-hot across his ribs as he crashed into the side of a parking garage, metal shrieking as he bounced off it and spun through the air. The car alarms made his ears ring as he was vaulted over the edge of it, concrete rubble and dust coating him in a chalky-grey hue.

Stopping himself mid-fall, hovering with clenched teeth, coughing hard as dust congealed in his lungs like a hard paste.

Okay. That sucked.

These ships were definitely not Earth tech.

By the time he looked up again, she was finally making her move. Why now? He was utterly lost.

Today was kicking his ass without bothering to give him an answer why.

She called out in a language Mark didn’t understand or recognise, her energy dimming for a split second before reigniting. With a growl, she brought her arm back like throwing a baseball with the type of force that hurt your arm afterwards, and hurled two glowing green bolts toward the ship that hit him.

The bolts collided with the ship’s nose, blinding it with an eruption of emerald fire. It staggered midair, and Mark wasted no time. He rocketed up and delivered a punch straight into the undercarriage. Panels giving way and caving into frayed wires and empty space. He ripped into the ship’s engine core, wrenching it out like yanking the heart from a machine. It exploded in a blaze of black light, forcing Mark to throw himself clear.

What the fuck were these ships made of?

He turned to see the last ship zeroing in on her finally. She floated unsteadily now, limbs trembling, eyes glowing with that faint colour—but dimmer than before. A long burn streaked down her side, smoke rising from it. The shoddy metal alloy that plated her arms and legs had glowing spots that look like more bolt impacts. She’d taken the type of hits that Mark could feel on his skin just from seeing them— and she just watches something below, uncaring of her wounds. One hand to the burn as she simply stares at the ground, a glance at him as the other holds itself in a placating gesture. Blood oozing over her fingers and dripping down her right leg to the toe that faces straight down, droplets of blood splattering somewhere on the ground below.

He stays in his spot, seemingly suspended by wires he can’t see. He’s a hero- shouldn’t he be moving? But he isn’t.

Even the chains cuffed around her wrists dangle in the air limply. A stalemate, a standoff. He looks down and sees a crater, there’s blood. Bodies. Death. She’s looking at the destruction below them, a thought clicks in his mind- she’s looking for closure.

Another energy blast flies past her. A simple turn of her shoulder— hair blows out behind her, coming back and whipping at her cheeks. It shrouds her partially as the fighter zeroes in, no more green light or fiery hair. A high pitched whining that rattles the bones in his own body from so far away.

And still, she keeps her eyes trained on them. Even as it settles into a hover that makes the grating of metal and the roaring of the engine so much more painful on his ears.

Alien gibberish that he so badly wishes he understood is being blared from a robotic intercom. And she frowns deeply, eyes tearing up as she just gives up. Her eyes meet his and suddenly, he understands.

A surrender.

He can’t say anything that will mean something, nor anything they will understand. So he moves, he throws himself towards the last ship as it continues in its stupid alien language.

She dives forwards before he can register it, she meets him halfway in the blink of an eye and swings him by the arm. Thrown so hard and so fast he’s left spinning through the air until he’s three blocks away. He turned to look back at her just in time to see the aftermath.

The final ship tore apart midair, bursting into fragments that rained down in molten streaks of debris.

A stray piece of the destruction launched into his leg, leaving him grunting as it buries deep into the meat of his thigh. Grabbing a hold of it he squeezed, yanking the debris out as he raised his head to observe the girl once more.

He only just caught it out of the corner of his eye, her body tilting sideways. She wobbled once in the air, and then she fell. Dropping out of the sky in one swift motion that he could barely register.

“Nonononono—!” Mark shot forward, catching her in his arms just before she hit a rooftop.

She was heavier than she looked—solid muscle, entirely limp in his arms. Her body radiated residual warmth, her skin faintly shimmering with golden flecks that glimmered under the sun. Her breathing was shallow, ragged– there were bruises across her neck and shoulders, and the wound hadn’t stopped bleeding.

“Hey,” he said softly, lowering them both to solid ground, “I got you. You’re okay.”

She looked like she’d fought through a hundred battles just to get here. Tired skin that sunk into the hollows the bones created, bruises, and the chains.

Her lips moved, parting as though she were trying to speak.

“Za’reth… kory’na shal taruun…?” the girl whispered, her voice fraying like silk.

Mark blinked, leaning closer. “What?”

Her eyes opened—just for a flicker. Bright, glowing faintly beneath bruised lids. She reached weakly toward the blue of his suit, grabbing what little give it had.

“Vel kuth’zan… reth ka’ori… Nok varan.” Her voice was rough yet so fragile, shaped by sounds he’d never heard.

He didn’t need a translator to understand the desperation in her tone, the fear clawing beneath her words.

And then, just like that, she went entirely still.

Mark’s arms tightened around her.

His pulse was still racing.

What the hell was that language? Those jets?

It didn’t matter. He saw the look in her eyes. Whoever this girl was, she hadn’t just fallen through some intergalactic portal.

She’d escaped.

Mark looked up, scanning the sky for any trace of those ships. They were gone—for now.

He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening.

He activated his comm with shaky motions, his fingers fumbling for the button, “Cecil,” he said, staring down at the unconscious girl in his arms, “I need a med evac, now.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. @nightmarewasteland @xoyumiqls @isnt-itstrange @dinorawrss @luvvcharxo @adeptusxia0 @pickledsoda @jiyeons-closet @osamudizzy @yaurss @frankee4foure @zomqiez

#mark grayson x reader #invincible fanfic #invincible mark grayson #dc comics #invincible x you #harass my inbox please #i’m taking requests i swear and i don’t always write so bad #mark grayson x fem!reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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A Barter 7

Warnings: dub/noncon, smutty smut, I am a dark blog and I write dark things.

Summary: You are bargained to be wife to the witcher if he can slew the beast in the village.

Character: Geralt of Rivia

**note, I am not a Witcher genius or aficionado and so I may get some things wrong.

As usual, I appreciate any and all feedback and enthusiasm. Please reblog and leave a comment. Love! 😍

Your stomach presses against the rim of the tub. The water’s lukewarm, the floor is splashed with puddles, his rutting sending more over the edge. His growls remind you of a wild beat, deep and insatiable. Like the animal he mimics, he bites into the meat between your neck and shoulder.

Hot breath dampens your skin as he pinches you meanly. He hammers into you, his hands over yours as you brace the wall of the tub. You whine and pant, spasming against him as your walls ache from his bottomless appetite.

He snarls and snakes a hand down to your stomach. He feels himself in you and unclenches his jaw. He nuzzles your neck as his touch drifts further down. He spreads your lips and uses his middle finger to tease your clit. You babble as the speckling sensation mingles with your fullness and blooms to life.

You cum in a quaking fit, muscles shaking, thighs trembling. You collapse against the side of the tub completely but he doesn’t stop. His finger swirls as he pumps into you, slowing only as he finds his own release.

You hang over the edge as you gasp for air. You stare at the floor, your vision hazy in the flickering light of the single lantern. He growls again and it rumbles through. You tighten around him, whimpering at the tenderness inside. You don’t know how much more you can take.

You could cry at the thought that this is only the first night. That he would expect this of you anon. That you swore that to him.

He pushes himself away but stays inside of you. His damp skin peels from yours as he hooks his arm around your middle and lifts you with him. He brings his other arm under your knees to scoop you up and steps over the side of the tub.

He takes you to the bed, still buried deep, lays you on your side. He puffs as your wet bodies glisten and bumps raise on your skin. You shiver and he groans, holding you close as he inhales the scent of your hair. His hand moves to spread over your pelvis. He bows his head to rest his forehead against your crown.

Fatigue tugs your eyelids. You let yourself fall into the void. Those horrors roil in your mind. The fog, the crowded barn, the clop of hooves, the shady cavern and the lecherous eyes, the constant splash of water around the clap of flesh.

Your worn body succumbs to numbness. You drift away from the wakeful torment and into the pit without end. You fall down and down and down until light breaks through and the pluck deep inside of you.

You wake on your stomach. Under him as he rocks his hips lazily. He drones and nips at your ear. He fucks you in the soft light of dawn. You clasp onto the pillow and moan.

Your cunt is brittle around his intrusion. You’re wet and wanting despite the agony. You lift your bottom to ease the pressure. He slides his hand under you to toy with you again. Another orgasm washes over you, shivers crashing down as eagerly as his hunger.

He snarls as he cums. He stills and holds himself over you. He slips free and falls onto his back with a pained grunt. You stay as you are, plastered on your stomach. His breaths even out and you cautiously turn your head to see him.

The lantern has burned itself out and only the morning hues limn his profile. You consider him closely, now that he is still, now that he is not on you. He’s a big man. Daunting even. His dark lashes are long and thick, his chin clefted and stubbled, and his cheek bones high and as chiseled as his jaw.

He exhales and brings his hand over his softening member. He grunts again. You wince and roll onto your side. You bend your legs and whimper as your thighs meet. Somehow the emptiness is worse than being overly full.

He reaches to you and pets your hip. His eyes open and seem to glow in the dim. His fingers swirl over your skin as his seed cools between your thighs.

“I will go and lock the door. You will not open it. Not for any.”

You sniff and gently rest your hand on his, “will you be gone long?”

“Not if I can help it. I will leave food on the table.”

“Yes, husband,” you accept. The promise of peace, of some time alone, a moment to take in all that has occured, is well-needed.

“And another bath to be drawn before,” he states. “You will be easy.” He turns his hand over and grips yours. “And ready for my return.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt x reader #series #drabble #a barter #the witcher

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littlemissgloomexe · 7 months ago

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New Invader Zim OC?!?!

Yah Mel n GIR are parentz now teehee

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littlexdeaths · 1 year ago

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what are friends for? - e.m.

best friend eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: period talk/period blood, eddie is the sweetest as always, grinding, fingering, one singular use of daddy

a/n: thank you to @callsignraver for the title idea 🤭 the eddie edit was made by me! you can use it, just please credit my side blog (strangergraphics), if you do. now enjoy xx.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me,” he sounds so sincere, which is why you can’t even look at him.

Because looking at him would just open a set of floodgates that you aren’t prepared to deal with right now.

Looking at him is only going to fuel the fire that is raging in your lower abdomen— that was lit the moment you stepped foot in the trailer.

A fire that he’s been steadily stoking with each brush of his fingertips against yours as you reach for more popcorn. Or when his knee bumps casually into yours as he shifts on the small sofa.

Which for someone as fidgety as Eddie Munson— was a lot.

“I promise I’m not gonna laugh or anything, just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your best friend had been able to pick up on the shift in your mood almost immediately. But he chose not to comment on it until now, unable to handle it any longer.

But how in the hell were you supposed to tell him that it’s his fault? That he’s driving you crazy?

That you want nothing more than to have his fingers buried inside you?

“You wouldn’t get it,” you sigh, shifting your body further away from him on the sofa.

Clinging onto the arm for dear life as you pretend to watch the clash of light sabers on the tv screen.

His snort has your eyes rolling.

“Try me.”

Your hands move up to rub your temples, eyes slipping shut.

“It’s a dumb girl thing—”

He jumps up off the sofa before you can even finish your sentence, returning from the bathroom mere moments later with a bottle of Advil in tow.

Eddie doesn’t register your confused expression as he stands before you, holding out the bottle.

“Cramps, right?” he asks, a kind smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel embarrassed, because of course that’s what he would think. He’s heard you drone on and on about it over the years. He only wants to help, like the kind friend that is he is.

Friend, being the keyword here.

“I um…” you mumble, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand.

You attempt to ignore the heat that continues to pool in between your thighs as you stare at the veins protruding from his hand. The way his thick fingers were previously gripping onto the pill bottle.

How they would feel gripping your inner thighs….

No. Stop it.

You mentally scold yourself, chewing on your lower lip as he takes a seat on the sofa.

“I appreciate it, but that’s not the issue.”

Now he’s the one who looks confused, leaning forward as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw.

“Then what is it?” he prods.

Eddie knocks his knee into yours again, tingles shooting up your spine from the subtle touch.

“It’s just, I’m feeling…”

“Tired?”

“No.”

“Bloated?”

“No!”

“Hangry—”

“Horny!” you shout, startling you both, “I’m horny.”

Your voice has gone soft, a near whisper compared to your previous volume. The air around you is suddenly thicker, and you are once again unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” he says after a long pause.

“Yeah, oh.”

You feel the tips of your ears warming as you continue to stare down at your lap. The beginning chords of the imperial march are the only thing filling the uncomfortable silence between you.

“I mean, I could always help you,” he replies finally.

His words cause your eyes to shoot up in surprise, your head turning to meet his molten hues.

“That’s— I wouldn’t ask you to do that, Ed.”

His ringed hand suddenly reaches over to rest on your knee, fingers slipping beneath the rips in your jeans.

“What if I want to?”

Now you’re the one rendered speechless.

“What if I have wanted to… for a long time,” he continues, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, determination in his eyes as he leans further into your space. You can’t help how your body gravitates towards him, your hands clutching onto the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

You can feel the way his breath mingles with yours, nicotine and movie theater butter. But it’s the flecks of honey in his eyes that break down your remaining defenses.

You answer him with a kiss, lightly pressing them to his. Testing the waters. Eddie eagerly deepens it, pulling you in closer until you’re in his lap. Your thighs bracket his hips, his hands encircling your waist.

The kiss becomes heated, faster than either of you are prepared for. You lower your hips harder onto his lap, inhaling his soft gasp as your bodies meld together. His grip tightens on your hips as you eagerly grind yourself against his crotch, welcoming the friction.

“Hold on, baby.” He groans again, his large hands stopping any further movement.

Baby.

He’s never called you that before.

Your lower lip juts out in a pout as he maneuvers you off of his lap, and back onto the soft cushions of the sofa. The male quickly sinks to his knees, his hands splaying across the tops of your thighs as he works himself between them. He chuckles at your expression, shaking his head slightly.

“Patience, pretty girl,” he hums as his hands slide further up your thighs until they reach the button on your jeans. “Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your nerves suddenly kick back into gear, despite the flames continuing to lick your skin. Eddie has become so tuned into your emotions over the years that he can sense this new shift immediately. This was an emotion he has seen plenty of times, but it was never because of him.

The notion has his hands freezing as they hover over the closure of your jeans.

“Shit, did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh. “I just… don’t wanna make a mess.”

His expression softens as you gesture to the tan sofa beneath you. The male rises to his feet without another word, darting over to the laundry basket that is seated on top of their washing machine. He digs through a pile of clothes until he finds whatever he’s searching for.

A dark maroon towel.

He clutches the soft fabric in his hands as he makes his way back to you, resuming his previous position between your legs. He sets it next to you, his brown eyes nervously shifting between your thighs and your face.

“You can touch me, Eds,” you say, carefully taking his hands in yours to guide them up to the clasp on your jeans.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear anything else.

He makes quick work of removing your jeans, tugging the denim down your thighs. His eagerness has you giggling, the tops of his cheeks flushing a light pink even in the muted light.

He pauses for a moment, leaning back as he drinks in your newly exposed skin. His eyes darken even further as his calloused fingers grip the hem of your cotton panties.

“God, take them off— please,” you whine, no longer caring if you sound pathetic.

You’ve waited far too many years for this to happen, and your patience has finally run out. Eddie chuckles, sliding your panties (pad and all) down your thighs. The male carelessly tosses them over his shoulder, ignoring your small protest.

“Lift up,” he hums, motioning you to guide your hips up.

He easily slides the towel beneath you, letting your body relax against the plush material. Eddie gently rests his hands over the tops of your thighs once more, beginning to spread them even wider. Your cheeks warm as his eyes zero in on your core, whining softly as he licks his lips.

“Christ,” he breathes, inhaling deeply as he notes the way your arousal shines in the glowing light of the tv.

He leans back for a moment, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze as he slowly slides each of those gaudy rings off his fingers. Eddie takes his time in doing so, the clink of metal echoes in your ears as he gathers them in his palm.

“Gimme your hand,” he says softly, but the command in his voice lingers all the same.

You hold out your left hand towards him, ignoring the way it trembles as he begins to slide each of his large rings onto your fingers. His dimples indent his cheeks as he grins, carefully lifting your knuckles to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to each one, ensuring that he keeps his eyes trained on you as he does so.

“Keep those safe for me, sweetheart.”

He winks playfully, leaning forward to brush his lips over the bare skin of your shin. His hands hook under your knees, allowing you to drape your legs over his shoulders. His movements have slowed drastically, taking his time before his fingers finally dip between your thighs.

Your soft gasp spurs him on, his fingers running through your drenched folds. He gathers your arousal on his fingertips, dragging them up to encircle over your swollen bud. You let your body relax against the couch cushions, allowing your eyes to slip shut as he continues his gentle touches.

But as soon as his touch starts— it stops just as fast.

A whine spills past your lips as his large hands wrap around the meat of your thighs and squeeze.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he coos, pressing his lips to the curve of your knee.

His teeth lightly nip at the skin there, causing your eyes to flutter back open.

“Yes, sir,” you giggle as he groans.

His fingers are back on you before you have time to mention his reaction, circling your entrance before dipping inside slowly. It causes your breath to hitch, his middle finger able to stretch you out better than any of yours ever have.

Eddie curses under his breath as he adds another, your body almost greedily sucks him in. Your hand instinctively reaches forward to grip onto his bicep. The rings that adorn your hand are biting into his skin, the thought alone makes his jeans impossibly tighter.

“God, you’re so wet,” he moans, guiding his fingers even deeper inside you.

You reply with a soft whine, your thoughts entirely too jumbled to provide him with anything else. His eyes have momentarily dropped from your face to where his fingers are nestled inside you. He slides them back out, admiring the sticky pink mixture that’s coating his thick digits.

“Eddie, don’t tease,” you huff, guiding your hips back towards his awaiting hand.

Your impatient attitude has him chuckling, those dark hues flicking up to meet yours again.

“Oh, you want these back, baby?” He taunts, his other hand gripping onto your thigh as he eases three of the digits inside your entrance.

The brunette holds them there, enjoying the way your body begins to squirm beneath him. Taunting you.

“Go on, say it, sweetheart.”

He raises a brow at you, slightly pushing his fingers in deeper, before he quickly retracts them with your continued silence. Repeating the action.

“I want…” you start, but the curl of his fingers makes you lose your train of thought.

“Hmm, you want what?” he prods.

He completely removes them from your entrance, ignoring your pleading eyes as he slides them back up to dance around your clit.

Your soft mewl of his name does nothing to deter his actions, it only slows them.

“Come on, use that pretty little head of yours,” he hums as the tips of his fingers graze over your swollen bud.

“God, just— please!” your voice raises an octave, taking on a breathy quality.

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk as he tilts his head at you. His fingers dip lower, circling over your puckered hole.

“Ya know, while I usually prefer something along the lines of master… or even daddy,” he muses, noting how your breath hitches.

“God, sure has a nice ring to it.”

His head falls back as he laughs, a playful pout adorning his lips as you swat at him. Those simmering embers have quickly morphed into a raging fire, ready to engulf you both in the flames.

“Eddie, I swear to God. If you don’t put those fingers back inside me, I will—“

The rest of your threat gets caught in your throat as he thrusts his fingers back in, a strangled moan takes their place.

“See, was that so hard, princess?” he teases.

You don’t answer him, instead grinding your hips down to meet his palm. Eddie pumps his fingers faster, his thumb pressing onto your clit. The wet squelch that follows has him moaning, nuzzling his face against your knee.

Your hand releases his bicep, slipping down his arm to tangle your fingers together. He holds them tightly, beginning to curl the others inside you. The calloused tips brush against your sweet spot, pulling another whine from your throat.

“Oh, right there,” you pant, chest heaving as his thumb firmly massages your clit.

That fire continues to burn brighter with each thrust of his fingers, ready to swallow you whole.

“That’s it,” he grins, watching in awe as you make a mess of his fingers, streaks of red and pink dripping down his knuckles.

“Makin’ such a mess f’me, baby.”

You barely register his words as your back arches up off the sofa. Your eyes squeeze shut as white hot pleasure bursts behind your eyelids. His rings dig into your skin from how tightly you’re grasping him, legs trembling as he coaxes you through your high.

Your ears are ringing as you finally collapse into the lumpy cushions, whining as he continues to gently thrust his fingers inside you.

“Come ‘ere,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

His cheek is smushed against your inner thigh, only breaking your heavy lidded stare to slide his fingers out of you. He hums, carefully lifting his fingers towards the dim light from the tv. He rubs them together, gazing in utter fascination at the sticky strings they leave behind.

You already miss his warmth, tugging playfully on his unruly curls to grab his attention. He chuckles, wiping his fingers on the towel beneath you before he’s hovering over your body. Hips pressed into yours, not caring if you make a mess on the front of his pants.

“Thank you,” you whisper, twirling one of his curls around your ringed finger.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” He grins down at you, his dark eyes almost sparkling.

“Besides…” he pauses, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “What are friends for?”

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @undead-supernova @munsonhoneybaby @hippiegoth97 @cinemabean @strangerstilinski @corrodedcorpses @curlyjoequinn @mugloversonly @eddiesxangel @hellfirenacht @splendiferous-bitch @razzeith @aleisashortcake @ali-r3n @eddie-is-a-god (i tried tagging you i promise 😭)

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader #best friend!eddie munson #[ the munson files ]

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droneshotmediany · 9 months ago

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#DroneShots DRONEshotMedia 🌇 Capturing the Magic Hour in Albany #New York! 🌆 📸 Drone Shot Media brings you this breathtaking aerial panorama of Albany at sunset. The vibrant hues of the sky blend seaml #creating a mesmerizing view. 🌅 igphotography nature_photography droneofficial instadrone photographynature dronedaily dronegram dr

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mimiii-3 · 1 month ago

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The Food Chain Pt.1

Yandere Platonic Batfam x Fem Reader

Notes: typical yandere themes

…

The overlapping chimes and songs of the games create a cacophony of excitement. You imagine that it mirrors the effect of the slot machines in Gotham’s seediest casinos.

The neon lights flash rapidly as you stalk down each isle of the arcade. Your day is made of soft reminders to not shake the claw machine or resetting a prize back to its starting position.

It’s not the most glamorous job but it feeds you. And you can’t deny the contentment your inner-child feels at living each day in a colorful arcade.

There’s normally two of you on these slow Thursday nights but it’s just you today. Camilla called in sick with the flu and there’s no one else to take her place.

The owner, Charlie, is an elderly man. With the deterioration of his joints and love for children, you know he won’t help out for the evening shift.

It’s not bad. Working the arcade by yourself makes you feel mature. You can prance around and act like you own the place for a few hours of independence.

The warm, orange and pink hues of the sunset melt through the large windows and illuminate the darkest corners of the arcade. With spring rolling around, the no-AC arcade feels warmer than usual.

It’s humid, but not enough that it makes you feel faint. You round the prize counter and take a quick swig from your dented water bottle.

That last family of three files out of the arcade with a quick ‘thank you.’ The little boy bounces away, arms full of stuffed animals he won in the claw machines.

“Have a nice day,” you chirp in your customer service voice. There goes the family of otters. They were quick and a bit noisy but they seemed sweet.

You like to assign everyone you see with an animal. The lady that lives next door, a mongoose. Charlie’s a penguin and Camilla is a rabbit.

You deemed yourself as a pig. Cute and smart but eats a lot of trash. That’s why Camilla and Charlie call you Ms. Piggy.

You look up at the clock to see how much longer you’re working today.

3 hours. It’s not very likely that the arcade will get busy on a Thursday evening so you settle into the white foldable chair in the corner of the prize area.

You pull out your phone and scroll lazily through your friends’ posts. They’re spending spring break in the Bahamas or France while you stay tucked away in Gotham.

You’re not jealous of their lavish lifestyle. But there’s a strange sense of loneliness you feel while gazing at the group pictures they take without you.

“Watch them act like they missed me,” you mutter bitterly. You can’t help but dread Monday morning when they will inevitably drone on about their fancy spring breaks.

Your murky thoughts are interrupted by the bell on the door ringing for new customers. You stand up from the chair and center yourself behind the counter. You put your best smile on and await the patrons.

Their light conversation grows closer and you sneakily eavesdrop on the approaching customers.

“-and Duke fell down both flights of stairs. You should have seen Bruce’s face, he looked like he was about to blow a gasket,” a gentle voice explains.

You hear another voice chuckle at the story, “God, I wish I was there to see that.”

You finally get to see the two as they make their way around the last coin-pusher. They’re two men, both raven-haired and polished.

The taller one has striking blue eyes and a mischievous expression. That one seems like a fox: cunning but still cute like a puppy.

The shorter one’s hair is messily combed through and he has dark circles under his eyes. That one feels like a stag, pretty but skittish.

The two spot you and hold your eye contact. You don’t yield to their intense gazes and widen your smile, “Hi! Welcome to Charlie’s Games. How many tokens?”

The fox’s smile widens and makes his way to the prize counter. He places his palms on the glass and leans on them to get a better look at you.

He taps his fingers rapidly against the glass, “This is actually the first time we’ve come here. How many tokens do you think we’d need to win big?”

The stag follows behind the fox and watches you carefully. You maintain your easy-going persona and reach under the counter.

They both stiffen at your movement. Their wide eyes and tightening fists let you know what they’re feeling.

“Relax guys. It’s not a gun, just a basket for the tokens,” you explain with a smile. Their bodies relax as you fill the basket with 40 tokens.

“40 tokens for twenty bucks. This should be more than enough to win big,” you jest.

The fox’s shoulders sag ever-so-slightly and the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Sorry we just,” he glances back at the stag and clears his throat, “y’know…this is Gotham after all.”

You nod at him and look between him and the stag. You raise your hands, “I get it. Gotham tends to be a nightmare but you can think of this place as a little escape from the guns and murder.”

“Thanks. That’s just what we need,” the stag speaks to you for the first time. He pulls at the left sleeve of his hoodie and tries to bite back a smile.

You snicker and they both look at you quizzically. “I’m sorry but you guys are so awkward, it’s adorable,” you cover your mouth with your hand as your laugh grows in volume.

They exchange a sheepish look and join in on your laughing. Your teary laughs die down and you sigh, “oh my gosh, I needed that laugh.”

“Us too,” the fox utters softly. The moment returns to its awkward beginning and you take it upon yourself to end the interaction.

“How about five more tokens - free of charge. That should make it impossible for you to walk away with nothing,” you say as you push the extra tokens across the counter.

The fox doesn’t say anything and just continues to smile down at you. The stag senses your discomfort and speaks up, “thanks again! We’ll be back for our prize.”

The stag picks them up and grabs the fox by his arm to lead him away. All while being pulled away, the fox watches you. You wave and offer a closed-eye smile to satisfy whatever it is he wants from you.

That seems to do the trick and the fox turns to walk with the stag over to the racing games. Once they’re out of sight, you slip into the employee-only room behind the prize wall.

You fall back onto the sofa and let out an obnoxiously loud sigh. That was…intense. They seem like cool dudes but man do they have a staring problem.

You turn on the couch and lay back against the arm rest. You resume your scrolling and pray that was the only awkward customer interaction you’ll have for the rest of your shift.

Your not exactly sure how much time passes as you scroll through Instagram and TikTok. Your unsolicited break is interrupted from the ring of the silver bell sitting on the main counter.

You slowly rise from the couch and stagger back to the door. Pushing aside the hanging beads, you take a quick peak at the clock. 20 minutes till closing, perfect.

The two men stand there with a handful of tickets. Their faces resemble those of children waiting at the door on Halloween.

“Wow! Looks like you two went all out. Let’s count em’,” you say cheerily. You take the tickets from their hands while making sure not to look them in the eyes.

You feed the tickets into the rickety machine. You purse your lips and stare up at the water-stained ceiling. ‘Just pretend like they’re not even there,’ you think.

After a minute or two, the receipt for their tickets pops out. You wrestle the receipt out of the machine before flipping it over and reading the number, “4,860 tickets. That means you get a yellow prize.”

You point up at the yellow-painted shelf and look back at the pair, “which one would you like me to get for you.”

“We don’t really have a preference. How about you pick one for us,” the stag blurts out before the fox can even open his mouth.

“Hmmm let’s see,” you muse. You scan the array of plushies on the self. There’s anything from a Chucky doll to an out-of-season reindeer.

Your eyes finally land on a pink glimpse tucked behind a ghost and mermaid plush. You go on your tiptoes and pull the plush off the shelf by its tag.

Interesting. It’s a pig. A pink, round-bellied pig wearing a monocle. Part of you contemplates putting it back, not wanting to offer up your twin to these two strangers.

But then again, you’ve already pulled it out and they’re watching your every move. You turn and hold out the pig to them, “here. This is what I’d choose if I were you two.”

“It’s cute,” the fox man says giddily. He plucks the pig right out of your hand and brings it close to his chest.

The stag rolls his eyes and places the token basket in front of you, “Thanks for the extra five tokens. I don’t think-”

“Do you work here everyday?”

The bizarre question stuns you into silence. You look over at the stag who’s bewildered expression must reflect your own.

“I’m so sorry. He’s weird,” the stag stumbles out an apology as he repeatedly elbows his friend.

The fox chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry! Just ignore me. It’s been a long day.”

“I get that,” you nervously laugh. The sudden ringing of your phone draws your attention away from the two men.

“Oops! That’s my alarm. It’s time for me to close the arcade,” you sigh in relief.

“Oh great,” the fox speaks up, “we can walk you out.”

Normally, you would hate it if a random man offered to walk you somewhere….but this is Gotham. And being a young woman in Gotham is the same as walking around with a sign on your head that says ‘please murder me.’

You swallow down your pride, “that’d be great actually. Mind if I grab my things and lock up real quick?”

The two are quick to assure you to take all the time you need. It takes about eight minutes to run around the break room and collect your belongings.

You swing your purse onto your arm and skip out from behind the counter. You briefly introduce yourself and address the two men, “before we head out, what are your names?”

The fox puffs out his chest, “I’m Dick. This thing here is my kid brother, Tim.”

Dick the fox and Tim the stag. Neat.

Tim, previously known as the stag, rolls his eyes. “I prefer Tim and his idiot brother, Dick,” he huffs. The two start to slap each other and bicker over their perceived superiority.

You soften at their interaction, “you guys are lucky. I always wanted a brother.”

Their mini-brawl ceased instantly. Dick and Tim turn to look at you. You can’t read their expressions. Maybe you said something wrong?

“Ok, let’s go! I made you guys wait long enough,” you squeak.

You start to walk towards the exit with Dick and Tim in tow. You hold open the door for them and lock it behind the three of you.

In complete silence, Dick and Tim walk you to your car. It’s a dingy, little thing that looks like it’s five seconds away from combusting.

“This is me. Thanks for keeping me company during closing,” you say gratefully.

Before they can say anything, you speak once more, “I work here every Tuesday through Thursday. The rest of the week I’m in class.”

You’re not sure why you shared so much information. Maybe the only child in you got carried away by the sibling bond the two share.

Nevertheless, they seem relieved at your answer. “Perfect,” Dick responds, “we’ll be sure to come back with some more family.”

You nod appreciatively and climb into the driver’s seat. You roll down your window and wave bye to the pair as you exit the arcade parking lot.

You can see them waving back to you in your rear view mirror. You drive away feeling content. This might be the start of a beautiful friendship.

What you didn’t see was the tracker that Tim subtly threw into your backseat. Or Dick taking a picture of your license plate. Or the deluxe sports car tucked away in the corner of the parking lot.

…

Extra notes: I’m so excited to continue this fic

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96 @yaoizee @bellethesleepypotato @salfishers @eli-mayhaveatencats @wisefuncherryblossom @c4xcocoa @twismare @icanmeltanigloo @tatsuri-zomushiki @wizzerreblogs @crazycaoticsimp @burningkittenprince @dakotali @vanilliona @galaxypurplerose

#dc x reader #dcu #batfam x reader #batsiblings #platonic batfam #yandere platonic batfamily x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere x reader #fem reader #yandere dc #yandere

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niki-phoria · 8 months ago

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⋆｡°✩ 너 말곤 전부 사라진 my world / 내 모든 시간에 오직 너만이 가득 차

little things zb1 maknae line do as your boyfriend

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), got a ton of inspo from this fic by @luvh4nji !! first reaction for zb1 :)), ricky calls reader beautiful, i am a red haired gyuv enthusiast my apologies, mentions of insecure yujin, not proofread !! pls forgive any mistakes <33 title from zb1 - crush

SHEN RICKY always gives you little gifts.

“i got you something.”

“ricky,” you chuckle softly as you shake your head. your lips quirk into a smile as you set your phone aside, turning to face him. “you didn’t need to.”

“but i wanted to.” he shrugs nonchalantly. “i always want to.”

ricky twirls the stem between his finger as he holds it out for you to admire. you softly gasp at the sight, admiring the hues of pink and white and decorating the flower petals. “it’s beautiful!”

“here,” his touch is feather-light as he reaches up, carefully brushing stray strands of hair away from your face. butterflies swarm throughout your stomach and shivers race down your spine at the feeling. “let me.”

ricky smiles sheepishly as he delicately tucks the flower behind your ear, careful not to let any petals fall. you can faintly smell the sweetness radiating from it. you smile brightly as you tilt your head to the side to pose. “how do i look?”

stepping forwards, he cups your face between his hands. ricky leans in, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek. they feel soft against your skin - tinted a soft shade of baby pink and routinely coated in strawberry chap stick. he smiles when he pulls away, a light flush quickly spreading across his skin. “beautiful.”

KIM GYUVIN is always holding your hand.

amidst the bustling crowd, you peek over the tops of heads and behind shoulders as you search for gyuvin throughout the crowd. wires stretch across the ceiling like vines. you only catch glimpses of muted conversations when staff members pass you by.

it only takes a small gap in the crowd before you recognize him, his red hair a sharp contrast to the black boxes behind him. “gyuvin!”

his eyes widen. he watches you in shock for a moment before he immediately begins rushing towards you. “you’re here,” gyuvin whispers shakily. his grip tightens around your waist as he leans in, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

“i’m here,” you chuckle. you rub your hands against his back in an attempt to soothe him, careful not to wrinkle the thin fabric of his stage outfit. gyuvin’s hands cup your face when he pulls away, gently trailing along your jawline. a deep flush rises to his cheeks despite the thin layer of foundation covering his face.

“there’s so much i want to show you.” gyuvin smiles brightly. his large hands envelop your own, intertwining your fingers together with ease. shivers race down your spine when his thumb casually brushes against your knuckles. he squeezes your hand once. “just follow me.”

PARK GUNWOOK is clingy.

the sunset casts a golden glow across the train car, illuminating the horizon in the distance. its wheels scrape against the rails, creating a quiet hum that drones on for hours. you turn to look out the window. flashes of trees and seemingly never ending hills eventually give way to acres of flat fields, filled with crops ready for harvest.

you startle slightly when gunwook’s head falls against your shoulder; stray strands of his hair tickle against the bare skin of your neck. he all but slumps his body against yours, letting a deep sigh escape him. your bodies mold together like puzzle pieces.

“is everything okay?” you whisper. you reach upwards to carefully push a strand of hair away from gunwook’s eyes. he leans into your touch slightly, smiling softly when you allow him to lean his cheek against your palm.

“yeah,” he mumbles in response. his voice is low and raspy. the telltale signs of sleep slip into his words. gunwook looks up at you with rosy cheeks and tired eyes full of love and admiration. it’s enough to make your heartbeat a little bit faster and butterflies swarm throughout your stomach. “just want you.”

HAN YUJIN tells you everything.

“yujin,” you whisper. he nervously chews on his bottom lip, anxiously staring up at the continuous spin of your ceiling fan. moonlight illuminates your bedroom, painting the walls silver. “what’s on your mind?”

yujin curls into your side, abandoning any embarrassment in the night. his legs entangle with your own beneath your blankets. “i’ve been thinking,” he whispers, so quiet that you almost miss the words entirely beneath the hum of the air conditioner. “about performing. about the concerts.”

“are you nervous?” he nods, tucking his face into the comforter. “you’re an incredible performer. all the work you’ve done to improve is showing, even if you don’t think it is. you’ll be amazing out there - i know you’ll be. and if you need any help, i’m here. and so are the members.”

carefully, you begin to card your fingers through his hair. yujin sighs softly in response, nuzzling his head even further into your pillows. you can all but feel him relax against your touch. “how are you feeling now?”

“better,” he says, muffled against the fabric. twisting to face you, yujin sleepily smiles up at you. “thank you.”

you smile softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against his temple. he takes a deep breath in response, finally allowing his eyes to flutter closed. “sweet dreams, jinnie.”

if you liked this fic, please comment, reblog, or leave feedback !! and if you want to support me, check out my zb1 masterlist <33

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gammasnippets · 1 year ago

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[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP60. Spotlighting 🐿️ Part.3

fromis_9 Lee Chaeyoung

11,660 words (Co-edited by @digipigichopshop & @dnd-writes)

After "reviewing" an intense office romance starring fromis_9's main vocalist, Park Jiwon, you are now left with 8 more alluring videos featuring the remaining members to explore and indulge in. You feel teased after witnessing the explicit nature of the first video. Watching Jiwon's naked body as she partakes in what might be the best sexual experience caught on film got you pitching a tent underneath your pants. But that doesn't seem to be enough. After all, what's not to say that the other videos won't push your limits even further?

You choose among the many files that fill your computer folder, looking for the next video to review. The first thing that catches your eye is the thumbnail with the group’s playful and charismatic rapper, Chaeyoung. The entire fromis_9 is full of pretty faces and hot figures, but you've always been drawn to Chaeyoung's magnetic charm. She's funny, talented, and has a captivating stage presence… And now you find yourself eager to see how she can ignite your desires in this next video.

You press the play button and the "Channel_9" intro plays alongside its colorful intro card. As their video editor, you ponder what elements can be included in this video to tie it to the first one seamlessly. With a mischievous grin on your face, you decide to include a recap from the previous video where Jiwon's sensual encounter left you craving for more. You think it's a wonderful idea, but watching this current video to its completion comes first.

After the intro, the video shows a huge indoor swimming complex. The video shows its many pools and amenities, filled with many hues of blue and sparkling with crystal-clear water, and inviting everyone to dive in. It then shifts to an aerial shot of Chaeyoung outside of the area walking towards it. The camera switches to that of the crew following her to have a better view of this video’s main star, wearing a creative mix of a red strapless dress over a white buttoned shirt and red heels. Her long figure is accentuated by the dress, giving her a seductive yet sophisticated look.

However, as the camera focuses on her, Chaeyoung seems to look more hesitant than anything, curious as to what might be inside.

"Is this really the place?" Chaeyoung wonders aloud, her voice full of excitement and anticipation.

"Yes," one of the crew softly replies.

"What is this place? It could be like an indoor pool," Chaeyoung suggests, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

She walks a bit further and reaches the entrance of the indoor swimming area. It didn't take long for her to realize that her assumption was correct.

"An indoor pool? Oh wow, it really is," Chaeyoung exclaims, her voice filled with awe.

As she steps further inside, the view switches to a bird's eye view of the entirety of the swimming area from a drone camera. Despite her tall frame, the captured angle makes Chaeyoung look like a small figure in this large aquatic paradise.

"Wow. This place looks nice," she murmurs to herself. "They even have big slides!"

She continues to explore the vast complex, taking in the many sights and sounds around her. Her eagerness to take a dip in the many pools becomes more and more evident as she starts to softly whine every time her eyes catch anything new and exciting.

"You want to swim, don't you?" one of the crew playfully asks Chaeyoung, teasing her.

"Of course," she replies with a mischievous smile, before letting out a deep sigh. "I wish I didn't wear this outfit."

"But you look good in it."

"But I want to swim," she pouts, defeated as she looks at her clothing.

The crew chuckles at her cute yet disappointed expression.

"Can we go back here again?" she asks.

"Maybe?" the crew replies, a teasing tone in their voice.

Her eyes widened in hope and excitement. "Really? We can?"

"Well, we can certainly try to make it happen," they respond, their tone filled with amusement.

"Yes!" Chaeyoung claps her hands in glee.

"But this is a filming studio, after all," they point out.

"Ugh…" Chaeyoung groans, sounding frustrated.

"So we should coordinate with them first if we can use this place again," they suggest.

"It's a shame we can't just go here whenever we can," she pouts.

The crew again laughs at her remarks.

Her witty nature, paired with her playful banters, makes Chaeyoung a delight to work with. She's more than just a pretty face, her vibrant and welcoming personality makes her a good addition to any project. Many fans often discuss how she rarely lands any invitations to shows or events, be it as a guest or a host. Her level of professionalism, paired with her natural charm, will make her a great asset to any production.

Chaeyoung and the crew continue to explore the huge swimming facility, stumbling into more breathtaking pools and attractions along the way. They then end up in a huge yet shallow pool. What's interesting is that despite the water being shallow, it doesn't look like a pool meant for children. The pool is decorated as if it's a sports arena, with goals on each end and border lines drawn on the bottom. A scoreboard is also visible, adding to the air of competition and excitement.

"Wow! This area looks great!" Chaeyoung exclaims, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

She then proceeds to walk further into the pool area, trying to get a closer look at the intricately designed space. But as she takes a few more steps, the crew then takes their leave to let her explore on her own. She waves and bows at them as her way of appreciation for accompanying her thus far. As they part ways, the camera view then switches to those inside the area, capturing the entire place from much better angles.

As she goes deeper into the pool area, she notices a man nearby who seems to be doing some stretches.

"Uhh… Hello," Chaeyoung tries to grab the man's attention with a friendly tone as she steps closer to him.

"Ah! Hello there," the man turns to her and slightly bows, a polite smile on his face.

"Hello to you as well," she responds with a warm smile before bowing in return.

The man stands up from his task and walks closer to Chaeyoung, offering a friendly handshake.

"So I will be your partner today."

She softly giggles before accepting her handshake. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," he replies, his voice calm and friendly. "Chaeyoung, is it?"

"Yes. I guess I'm in the right place," she says with a playful grin.

"I guess you are," he chuckles. "So, are you ready?"

Chaeyoung then looks at him, dumbfounded.

"Eh?"

"I was told that we're going to have a friendly game of water polo," he explains, pointing towards the goals and lines in the pool.

She is then left speechless for a moment, her eyes staring at nothing in particular as she looks as if she's processing her situation.

"So, are you up for it?" he asks her again, his voice filled with anticipation.

Chaeyoung then chuckles, still staring into nothingness, before looking at him. "I wasn't even informed that I'll be swimming today."

She then turns her attention to one of the many cameras surrounding them as if looking at the staff themselves.

"Why did you make me wear this?" she yells at them laughing, playfully pointing at her outrageous office get-up.

Her partner then bursts out laughing at her unexpected reaction. "Wait. What's wrong?"

Chaeyoung then looks at him, still laughing but looking defeated. "I can't swim in this!"

He scratches his head in amusement as he has never been in a situation quite like this before, let alone see someone attempt to swim wearing office attire.

"Well that can be a problem," he says, chuckling.

"Oh no," she then starts to worry about the challenge at hand. "Do I immediately fail the challenge?"

"I don't think so. No," he attempts to reassure her worries as he thinks of a way to salvage the situation.

Suddenly, one of the monitors in the room turns on, catching their attention. On the screen, a message appears where it says the following;

“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: SPLASH & BLAST>

Aim to be the best water polo player ever!

Score as much as you can against your opponent.

Regular water polo rules don’t apply. Do whatever you can to win!

Complete this mission to earn your group a reward.

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

They both read the message on the screen, their eyes widening in surprise. Chaeyoung then looks at him with eyes full of concern.

"A time limit? How much time do we have?" she asks, feeling lost and nervous.

The scoreboard suddenly hums to life, catching their attention. The timer displays 120 minutes on the clock, making them realize they have a generous amount of time to complete the challenge.

"Oh, neat," he remarks. "We have plenty of time."

“Yeah,” She nods as she thinks about her situation. "But I'm wearing these clothes…"

"Right," he responds with a small chuckle.

"What should I do?" she asks, her worry slowly getting the best of her.

As he struggles to think of a way to help her, he shrugs his shoulders. "I guess you'd have to take them off."

"Sure," She chuckles nervously. “But you see…”

“Yes?” he asks.

"I don't have any swimsuits on me," she admits, blushing.

He then let out a chuckle at her sudden confession. "So you're just in your underwear, then?"

She nods at him. "Yep."

"If that's the case," he pauses for a moment, before adding, "Then it won't be much different from regular water polo."

"Really?" Chaeyoung's eyes widened, curious to hear his thoughts.

"Yes. Some beginners play water polo in their underwear, with the lack of preparation and all," he further explains, chuckling as he goes.

"I see…" she nods as she understands the situation. "So my case is actually a common thing, huh?"

"Correct," he nods, smiling. "Even professionals do their practice rounds wearing underwear when they forget to bring one."

“Is that so?” She laughs. "So it's just practice for me then."

He chuckles. "You can say that."

Suddenly, all her worries seem to have vanished. She smiles and nods at herself, a look of determination in her eyes.

"Alright," she exclaims, excited to accept the challenge. "I'll take the challenge then."

"That's the spirit!" He cheers her and gives her a thumbs up.

"So…"

Chaeyoung's eyes then begin to wander around the pool area, as if looking for something.

"Should I just strip here?"

Her query catches him off guard, blushing before laughing at himself. "Ah, right. The nearest changing room is a bit far from here. It might take you a while to walk there."

"I see," she responds, understanding the situation. "Guess I’ll do a quick one here."

"Sure. I’ll stay back," He tells her as he steps back a few steps, raising his arm as he does.

"Right! Let's do this, then…"

Chaeyoung steps a bit away from him and begins to undress.

Her partner is then left to watch her as she attempts to remove every article of her clothing. Her high heels come off first, then the belt that holds the entire ensemble, followed by her orange tube dress. As she is halfway through unzipping the dress, she suddenly stops, looking at him for a moment.

"Oh. Umm…" She looks at him, feeling shy.

"What is it?" he asks, curious.

"Can you…" she pauses, her hands pointing at the stuck zipper.

"You want me to help you with that?" He asks again, smirking this time.

She nods, feeling embarrassed.

"Yes, please…"

"Sure thing," he nods and approaches her.

He grabs hold of the zipper with one hand, the other resting on Chaeyoung's shoulder. His strength easily resists the dress, as it slides downwards without issue. She then sighs with relief, another piece of clothing is peeled off her body.

"Phew," she sighs, relieved. "Thank you."

"No problem," He smiles at her before gesturing at her if he can let go of the dress. "May I?"

"Yes," she replies with a smile, her eyes glancing at his hands.

He lets go of his hands and like a swift wind, her orange dress slides down her body. Chaeyoung’s partner stands there, admiring her figure as she is left in her white buttoned shirt with a hint of her blue panties peeking from the bottom.

"Wow. You look beautiful," he compliments her, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Thank you," he smiles and blushes.

She then goes back to business and unbuttons her shirt, revealing her bright blue bra. She slowly slides the garment down her arms, slowly revealing her slender body to him. He can't help but have his mouth open, his eyes admiring her beautiful physique. If anyone else was in his position, they would've pounced at her and ravished her right then and there, but he doesn't. He restrains himself as much as he can. And who knows? Maybe something interesting will happen along the way.

After a few seconds of gazing at her, he snaps himself back to reality, remembering the challenge at hand.

"So?" he asks her. "Ready?"

She nods, smiling. "Yes. Shall we?"

"After you," he gestures at her to dip in first.

Chaeyoung nods again and walks closer to the pool. She steps in it, slightly wincing as the water comes up to her calves.

"Ooh! It's cold," she whines, slightly grimacing.

"Are you okay?" he asks, curious to hear her response. "Is the water good?"

"I'm fine," she says, reassuring him. "Just a little chilly."

"Good to hear," he giggles, following her into the pool.

They perform quick stretches before they position themselves to face each other, ready to play a game of water polo.

"So, the goal is to score as many goals as I can, right?" Chaeyoung asks, feeling excited and nervous about the challenge at hand.

"Yes. So do your best," he replies with a wide grin, excitement evident in his tone.

"Right," she smiles, nodding at his response. "And go easy on me."

"I'll try," he chuckles, his eyes smiling along with his lips.

Chaeyoung then nods and readies herself to play.

The clock begins to tick, counting down before starting the game.

3… 2… 1…

And with a loud horn, the game starts.

The slightly serene water of the pool is replaced with large splashes as the two move fast toward the ball floating in the middle. Chaeyoung’s partner was able to reach it first with his long arms, but she swiftly reacted by swatting it away. Both then swim as fast as they can to recover the ball. Luckily for her, the water moves the ball closer to her position and she can reach it just before he does.

"Not too bad," he comments, impressed at how fast she is.

She smirks as if she already has a plan in mind. "You better get ready!"

Chaeyoung rushes toward the goal as fast as she can. In response, her partner moves towards it as well to defend it. As they near the goal, Chaeyoung, with the ball in her hands, attempts a big swing towards it, aiming for the side. He catches onto her plan and immediately positions himself in front of the goal, blocking it. With no time to waste, she lets out a loud grunt as she propels the ball out of his hands, hoping that it lands in the goal.

Unfortunately, the ball falls short, falling inches in front of him instead.

She grimaces as her attempt to score fails.

“Ah, no way!”

"Nice try, though," he says, smirking.

She hesitates to approach the ball for another attempt. But as she sees him, who is much closer, reaching for it, she abandons her plan.

"Oh, no…" she hisses. "Not on my watch."

Without a moment's hesitation, Chaeyoung drags herself towards her own end of the pool, leaving her partner with the ball. As she gets nearer to her goal line, she looks back to check his position. And to her surprise, he's already behind her, halfway through the pool, with the ball in his hands.

"Okay!" he yells, smiling. "My turn!"

"Wha—?!" she reacts, her eyes widening.

"Got you!" he says, as he winds her arms for the throw.

"Wait! That's unfair!" she frantically swims away, attempting to put some distance between them.

With the ball in his hands, he throws it straight towards the goal. As Chaeyoung desperately tries to catch up to the ball, she slips backward. This causes her to flail her arms and legs wildly. But with a stroke of luck, as she stumbles around in the pool, her feet catch the ball, hitting it. The ball then flies outside of the pool, landing on the hard floor of the facility.

"Oh!" he exclaims as he watches everything unfold. "That was something else."

After a few moments, Chaeyoung recovers her footing and is then left standing in the shallow pool, still disoriented from the tumble.

"Are you okay?" he asks, concerned.

She nods and raises her hand as if giving him a thumbs up. She wipes the water from her face and her hair, taking a few breaths as she recollects her thoughts.

"I'm okay," she chuckles, trying to catch her breath.

"That was quite a tumble you did," he comments, his voice full of concern.

"Yeah. I slipped," she replies, slightly shaking her head.

"I saw that," he giggles. "Are you good to go?"

"Yeah. Just a little bit dizzy," she reassures him, a hint of exhaustion in her tone.

"Okay. Let me just go get the ball," he says, getting off the pool to retrieve the ball.

"Wait. Where did it land?" she asks, scanning her surroundings for the lost item.

"It flew outside of the pool," he then pointed towards a spot outside. "Over there."

"Oh…" her eyes widen as she realizes her blunder. "I can't believe I kicked it that far."

He chuckles. "It happens to everyone. It's fine."

He quickly gets to where the ball is and picks it up.

"Let me get that," she says, moving towards him.

"Thanks," he smiles before softly tossing the ball to her. "Here you go."

"Oop!" she yelps, catching the ball in her hands. "Got it!"

"Nice catch," he praises her, smiling as he tosses himself into the pool.

"Thanks!" she smiles and waves, a hint of pride in her voice.

"Alright. Another round?" he asks, eager to start another round.

She nods. "Sure."

They again position themselves before resuming the game.

"Since you touched the ball before it went outside the pool," he says, looking at her. "The possession goes to me."

"Ah…" Chaeyoung sighs. "Fair enough."

He chuckles. "Don't worry. You'll get your chance to score."

"Yeah, yeah," she nods, smiling. "Do your worst."

She then throws the ball to him as they're about to start another round.

"No hard feelings?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Nah," She chuckles.

"But don't underestimate me."

"We'll see about that," he smiles as the horns sound, resuming the game.

Chaeyoung’s partner immediately makes a beeline towards the goal. His slim yet muscular build allows him to cut through the water with ease. But Chaeyoung isn't just a pretty face, as her lithe frame helps her keep up with his speed. Together with her silly and rather "unorthodox" methods of blocking him from scoring, her strategy is paying off, even though her opponent is much bigger than her. Neither of them is advancing any further, the two seemingly in a deadlock.

"You're good at this," he asks, impressed.

"Am I now?" she replies, smiling.

"Yes," he grins. "You should consider doing water polo as a hobby."

"I guess I should," she responds, giggling.

He chuckles. "Good to hear."

Their game goes on for quite some time with them in the same spot, neither of them scoring anything. Chaeyoung is doing everything she can to block his every move and eventually steal the ball from him, while her partner tries to get past her and keep the ball from her. They are growing tired of this stalemate, but neither of them is giving up anytime soon.

"Okay, now…" he suddenly pauses, raising his arms in the air.

"Eh?" Chaeyoung is left confused. "What now?"

"Time to score," he makes a sudden dash towards the goal.

"Hey! Wait!" she yelps, attempting to block him.

His sudden burst of energy catches her off guard and causes her to stumble again. He quickly uses this opportunity to gain more ground. He is slowly getting past her.

"Wait up… Nghh!" she groans as she desperately tries to catch up to him.

"This is it!" he declares, his voice filled with excitement.

He then winds up his arms for a throw. But as he is doing so, Chaeyoung quickly recovers and desperately halts his movements just in time, her arms locking with his, rendering him unable to shoot the ball.

"No, you won't!" She grunts, determined to stop him.

He is left powerless as he feels her strength, her hands clasping his tightly.

"Woah! You're strong," he gasps, taken aback by her power.

She looks at him, her eyes gleaming with confidence and determination.

"Not gonna let that happen!"

They continue to struggle against each other, their bodies touching as they attempt to overcome one another. As the situation for the first goal becomes tense, their clashing bodies cause them to stumble and fall into the water. But even after falling, Chaeyoung's hands remain firm on his, determined not to lose. In such desperation, she tries to grab a hold of him in any way that she can. She manages to get a grip on his waist, but that's when things take a turn for the worse.

As Chaeyoung’s partner finds a way to let go of her, her hands unknowingly grab her trunks. With not a lot of options in his hands, he decides to just sprint for the goal. But as he does so, her tight grip causes the trunks to slide off his waist, revealing his privates.

"What the?" his eyes widened, caught off guard by what happened.

"Ahh!" she lets out a yelp, surprised.

His face flushes in embarrassment as he tries to cover his private area with the ball in his arms.

"Wait a minute. Lemme just…" He fumbles around, trying to pull his trunks back up.

"Ah! Uhh… Sorry!" she apologizes, feeling flustered.

"Heheh… No worries," he giggles, feeling awkward about the situation.

She blushes, avoiding his gaze. "I'm really sorry about that."

"No, really. It's all good," he says, smiling.

"I wasn't thinking that…" she says, shaking her head.

"No need to worry. It was an accident," he says, grinning.

"Right," she responds, nodding. "Still, I'm really sorry."

"It's alright," he reassures her. "We can still continue the game."

"Mhmm… Sure," she nods, still looking flustered from the incident.

"Hmmm…" he inspected her for a moment, thinking. "Are you sure you're good?"

"Yes. I'm fine," she replies, nodding.

"Okay. If you say so," he responds.

"But how about we take a break?"

"Can we?" she asks, feeling excited at the thought.

"Sure. Seems like we both could use a breather," he says, grinning.

"Well… Alright then," she giggles.

He then extends his hand, gesturing at her to take his hand.

"Shall we?"

She grabs her hand as he helps her get back up.

"Thanks," she says, smiling.

"No problem," he grins.

They then get off the pool, walking towards a row of lounge chairs placed nearby.

"Ahh…" she sighs as she sits on the chair stretching her body. "That was exhausting."

"Yeah," he nods as he hands her over a pair of towels. "But was it fun?"

"Definitely!" she smiles as she grabs one of the towels. "Thank you, by the way."

“Don't mention it," he grins. "So how about some drinks?"

"I would love to," she smiles as she wraps herself in the towel. "I'll wait here if that's alright with you."

Chaeyoung's partner then heads over to the bar nearby to get some refreshments. She is left to her thoughts, thinking about how the game went so far.

“Jeez. This is really exciting.”

A smile spreads across her face, feeling delighted about the current situation. She then feels a slight tingle down her thighs, as if she's getting turned on.

"Nghh… This is bad," she whispers to herself, stroking her thighs, attempting to calm her urges.

She then looks at where her partner is, watching him grab a couple of drinks at the bar. He seems to be taking his time doing so.

The coast is clear.

She shifts her thighs, trying to ease the sensation. But instead of stopping, it only gets stronger. She lets out a soft moan, her body feeling the familiar heat.

"No, not here," she whispers to herself, her hands stroking her thighs, attempting to calm her urges.

As if she can't control her body anymore, her fingers wander downwards. A sudden wave of pleasure washes over her as her fingers gently touch her pussy.

"Fuck… So good," she murmurs, her fingers continuing to play with her wet lips.

Chaeyoung, unable to resist the temptation, decides to give in. Her fingers continue to tease her body, her pussy getting wetter with each touch. She begins to slowly up the pace, muffling her moans as her fingers thrust in and out of her pussy.

"Hngh!" she hisses, biting her lip. "So close…."

She begins to quicken her pace, her fingers plunging deep into her pussy. The intense stimulation causes her legs to buckle, her toes curling with pleasure.

"Ugh… Yes…" she gasps, her fingers fucking her pussy fast.

Her fingers reach deeper into her, sending a powerful surge of pleasure up her spine. She is close to the climax.

But just as she's about to reach her orgasm, the sudden sound of her partner's voice causes her to freeze in her tracks.

"Hey, Chaeyoung…" his voice rings in her ears.

Her eyes dart towards the direction of the voice. He's getting close.

"Shit! What timing," she hisses, frustrated, quickly removing her hand from her pussy.

She then quickly pulls her hands up and wipes her juices on the towel. She adjusts her sitting position afterward, trying to make herself look natural.

“Sorry, I took so long,” he apologizes as he hands her a cold bottle of soda. “Here’s your drink.”

"Oh! T-thank you," she replies, her hands shaking as she grabs the bottle.

"Hmmm…" he looks at her, curious. "Are you okay?"

"M-me? Yeah! I'm fine," she replies, laughing awkwardly.

“Are you sure?” he continues to stare at her, looking as if he doesn't believe her. “You look red.”

"R-red? Me?" she giggles awkwardly. “I-it’s probably the… Heat. Yes! T-that’s it.”

"Well…" he says, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know if I grabbed a good drink for you. The bar doesn't seem to have much to offer."

"It's fine! T-this is nice," she giggles.

"Well that's good to hear," he smiles, before laying down on the chair next to her.

She opens her bottle and gulps down half of the content as if her throat is parched.

"Phew…" she sighs, wiping her mouth.

"You seem thirsty," he comments.

His sudden query almost made Chaeyoung spill her drink.

"T-thirsty?" she frantically responds, almost stuttering.

"Yeah. You seem to be sipping your drink fast," he points out.

"Ahh… That. Hehehe," she awkwardly giggles, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Well, y’know… It's been a hot day."

"Yeah. It sure is," he replies, relaxing his body. "This weather makes me feel hot and sticky."

"Sticky, huh…" she murmurs to herself, trying to keep her composure.

"So how's the game so far? You're holding up well," he compliments her, a playful grin on his face.

"Ah, yes," she nods, laughing. "I, uhh… I'm doing my best."

"You have the makings of a good water polo player," he adds, his grin growing wider.

"Is that so?" she continues to laugh, her cheeks blushing.

"You gave me a hard score, after all," he remarks, chuckling.

"I did, didn't I?" she giggles, feeling embarrassed.

"Yeah. You're creative in your tactics, too," he adds.

"C-creative?" she asks, curious.

"Well, you know…" he then slightly tugs her swimming trunks, reminding her of the silly incident earlier.

"O-oh," she blushes, remembering what happened. "That one…"

"It was a pretty bold move if you ask me," he chuckles, amused.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen," she apologizes, looking embarrassed.

"You don't have to apologize," he says, his voice calm.

"I… I got so into the game that I didn't notice what I was doing," she explains, looking embarrassed.

"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, right?" he jokes, smirking. "I might even do the same thing if the situation calls for it."

Chaeyoung's eyes then widened, surprised at his answer. "R-really? You mean…"

"Just kidding!" he bursts into laughter, finding her reaction amusing. "You're only in your underwear, so I wouldn't consider doing that."

"But you're only wearing trunks yourself!" she exclaims, chuckling. "We're pretty much on the same boat here."

"So are you proposing an 'equal' fight, then?" he grins, teasing her.

"Well… I mean…" Chaeyoung blushes, feeling shy. "Ah! Forget what I said."

"Come on now. Don't get shy on me," he teases, smirking.

She hesitates to let out what's on her mind. Granted her sexual frustration and her partner's teasing are getting the better of her, but she eventually gives in.

"Fine," she grumbles.

"So what is it?" he asks, his voice calm and patient.

"Well," she pauses for a moment, her eyes wandering. "I was just saying that maybe it's okay if we could just—"

The horn suddenly blares aloud, interrupting her speech.

"Oh. Time's up already?" he asks, getting back up.

Chaeyoung then sighs at the impeccable timing. "So it is."

"Well, shall we go back?" he asks, lending her a hand to stand up.

"Sure," she replies, nodding. "Let's go."

They then both head back into the water to continue where they left off. They are left with 23 minutes on the clock.

"Ready for more?" he asks, smiling.

She smiles, her body ready. "Yeah. Let's do this!"

And with another loud blare of the horn, the game resumes.

Both of them hauls ass towards the middle, trying to get to the ball first. Chaeyoung manages to reach the ball first and firmly grasps it with both hands.

"Aha!" she declares. "Got it!"

"Nicely done!" her partner applauds her, smiling.

"Hehe… Thanks," she replies, giggling. "Now it's my turn!"

She does all she can to reach the goal as fast as she can. However, his athletic frame makes him move to block it before she can reach it.

"I want to see you try scoring again," he says, smirking.

"Aish…" She grunts, her eyes determined. "We'll see about that."

As Chaeyoung approaches the goal, she slowly thinks of a way to overcome him. An idea then suddenly pops into her head, giving her a newfound motivation.

"Okay…" she mumbles, as she comes up with a plan.

"Ready when you are," he firmly stands in his position, his eyes fixed on the ball.

Suddenly, she then attempts a flurry of fake shots, jumping in all directions in the hopes of baiting him to fall off-balance. As silly as she looks, her partner reacts in kind, trying to block her in every direction she jumps.

"I'm gonna get you!" she declares, giggling.

"Try if you can," he retorts, his grin widening.

As competitive as they get, a glimmer of joy and fun is present in their eyes. They're having fun. The fierce tension in the air doesn't stop them from enjoying themselves.

After a few moments, Chaeyoung finally takes the bait and dashes straight towards the goal, the ball in her hand. Her partner follows suit, hoping to stop her. They both rush towards each other to accomplish their own plans. As they come closer to each other and the tension continues to rise, Chaeyoung decides to jump out of the water as high as she can and throws the ball towards the goal.

"Get in there!" she yells as she lets go of the ball.

He reacts by reaching for the ball with his hand, attempting to block the shot.

"Got it!" he said in glee.

But in the nick of time, Chaeyoung swats the ball away with her hands, sending it upwards towards the goal.

They were frozen in their tracks, watching where the ball would land. A mix of emotions fills them both as it comes nearer to the goal.

"Did I score?"

"Did she miss?"

The ball then touches the edge of the goal, sending it bouncing to the side and landing a few inches away from the goal line.

"Agh! No!" Chaeyoung cries as the ball falls short of the goal.

"Whew! That was a close one," her partner exclaims, a bit exhausted.

He then rushes to recover the ball, attempting to score his own. But despite her failed attempt, she is quick to react and runs for her side of the pool to defend her goal.

"No way am I letting you score that easily!" she declares, smirking

He chuckles. "Good. Bring it on, then."

He winds up his arms for a big throw, while she prepares herself for his next move. He throws the ball as high as he can, far from her reach. But Chaeyoung isn't going to let him win that easily. She jumps another time, and with her long reach, is able to grab the ball in mid-air. It sends the ball out of bounds, outside the pool.

"Nice!" she exclaims, pumping her fist in the air.

"Ugh…" he groans, slightly annoyed. "That was a good block."

"Thanks," she smiles. "I have a good opponent."

"I'm honored," he chuckles.

After exchanging compliments and a few seconds of rest, they again prepare themselves for more water polo. They continue to attempt to score a goal for themselves as the other party tries their best to block their every move. Their restraints are slowly coming off as the two of them are willing to get up close and personal with each other during the game. With how serious the two of them are getting, Chaeyoung's partner can't help but exert a bit of his strength tussling against her. His hands, in a desperate attempt to retrieve the ball, accidentally end up grasping the softness of her butt

"Hngh!" she suddenly lets out a sharp gasp.

"Oh. Sorry!" he apologizes, retracting his hands.

"It… It's fine," she quickly recovers, smiling. "D-don't worry about it."

"Alright then," he says, still looking a bit apologetic.

They continue playing, but the situation seems to have shifted into a more sexual one. It's evident in their eyes the fire that makes them determined to win the challenge. But at the same time, the same fire emanates a more intense passion between the two of them. Gone are the subtleties they have for each other from the first few minutes of the challenge, now they're going all out, showing no signs of holding back.

As the game goes on, the two's bodies are getting closer and closer. Their touches aren't accidental anymore. They're deliberate, seeking a certain sensation from each other. And as their excitement grows, so does the tension in the air. The desire to get to each other becomes more apparent with each passing moment. This isn't just a game anymore. It has become a test of wills—a battle to see who'll succumb first. Getting physical is the name of the game, after all.

A few moments later, they again find themselves at a stalemate, the two staring at each other intently, neither giving up their guard.

"You're getting better at this," he comments, smirking.

She chuckles. "Not gonna let you score that easily."

"You think so, huh?" he asks, teasing her.

"Yeah, you bet," she replies, smirking.

"Well have at it, then," he says, challenging her.

As they are about to have another go, the horn blares out loud, catching their attention.

"Huh? Is it over already?" Chaeyoung asks, surprised.

"Doesn't seem like it," her partner responds, his gaze fixated on his timer. "We still have several minutes to go."

"Hmmm… Then what seems to be the—oh! Look at the screen."

They both then turn their heads toward the big screen in the middle. A message is being displayed, informing the players of another challenge.

"ATTENTION BOTH PLAYERS:

As neither player hasn't scored so far, we have decided to change the current challenge."

They are both confused, not expecting this sudden change.

"What does that mean?" Chaeyoung asks, perplexed.

"I have no idea," her partner shrugs. "Let's see what else is there to know."

The message on the screen changes again. It reads the following:

“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: SPLASH & BLAST

1. Can you be the best lover in the pool?

2. Try and make your partner cum as much as possible! There are no rules!"

3. Whoever cums the most loses.

4. Win this mission to earn your group a reward.

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

"Huh? What in the world is that?" Chaeyoung exclaims after reading the text on the screen, blushing.

"Woah!" his jaw drops, his eyes wide. "That's some challenge."

"So, are we really gonna…" she asks, looking at him, her face flustered.

"Looks like our game took a different turn, didn't it?" he chuckles, smiling at her.

"Yeah. I guess so," she giggles, her hands fiddling.

"Shall we… Do the challenge?" he asks, curious as to how she'll react.

She hesitates, her mind conflicted. However, the need to fulfill her lust and desires seems to overwhelm her, as she has no choice but to go with it.

"Uhmm… You see," she starts to say, her tone soft and a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

"You haven't done this yet, have you?" he asks, his expression calm.

"I mean…" Chaeyoung fiddles with her fingers, not looking him in the eye. "N-not that I haven't, but…"

"It's fine," he reassures her, smiling. "Bad experience?"

She shakes her head. "N-not with the real one, at least."

"I see," he nods, his hand grazing over her arm. "It's alright. We can just take it slow."

"Y-yeah, I guess…" she nods, agreeing.

They slowly approach each other, their bodies becoming closer and closer. They stare at each other's eyes, their bodies shivering. He then reaches out his hand and gently holds her chin, lifting it up, his face moving closer. She feels the warmth of his breath, their lips a mere centimeter apart.

"So, shall we begin?" he whispers, his voice soft and gentle.

She doesn't respond. Instead, she closes her eyes and presses her lips against his, sealing the deal.

Their bodies are pressed against each other, their skin touching, as the kiss grows deeper and longer. She wraps her arms around his waist, her hands touching his back. He, on the other hand, moves his hand down her hips, grabbing her buttocks.

"Mmmh…" she moans softly as their tongues intertwine.

Chaeyoung’s partner then slowly moves his hands towards her breast, his fingers fondling it. She lets out another soft moan, feeling his fingers rub her nipple.

"Feeling good?" he asks, breaking the kiss.

She nods, "Y-yes…"

He smiles, happy to see her reaction.

"I'll take it further," he says as he begins kissing her neck.

"Ahh… That tickles," she giggles, his kisses causing her body to tingle.

He continues to kiss her neck, his tongue tracing the curves of Chaeyoung's delicate skin. She moans softly, enjoying the sensation. His hand then slowly moves downwards, cupping her buttocks.

"Mnnh!" she gasps, his hands kneading her ass.

He smirks, amused at her reaction.

"Liking it?" he asks, grinning.

"Ahhh! Y-yes," she stammers, her body shuddering.

"Good," he says, his tone gentle. "I hope you're ready for more."

He continues to knead her soft butt, his hands grabbing a handful of her soft, round flesh. She lets out a series of moans, her body shivering with pleasure.

"Ahh, fuck…" she moans, her breathing getting heavy.

Her partner then continues his advance. As he moves his lips down her neck and onto her chest, he slowly unclasps her drenched bra, freeing her breasts from its confinement.

"Oh, wow… Chaeyoung-ah," he whispers, his eyes fixed on her chest.

Chaeyoung's nipples are already erect and glistening with the water from the pool. He then looks at her, his eyes burning with lust and desire.

"How cute," he whispers, his fingers gently tracing her nipples.

"Not there, not—hngh!" she whimpers, her body jolting from the touch.

He then continues to fondle her breasts, his fingers massaging her nipples. Her face turns red, feeling a tingling sensation in her body.

"Fuck… So good…" she pants, her voice soft and weak.

"You're really sensitive here, aren't you?" he teases, his voice playful.

Chaeyoung nods, her face flushed. "I… I'm just not used to—nghh!."

He chuckles, finding her reaction adorable.

"Let's move on to something else, then," he says, his voice calm.

"W-what is it? What are we going to—"

He places his index finger on her lips, signaling her to stop talking.

"Hush, Chaeyoung."

Her partner then lowers himself and grabs her panties, slowly sliding them off. He tosses her soaked underwear outside the pool, leaving her fully naked.

Chaeyoung attempts to cover her body with her hands as much as she can, her cheeks burning from the embarrassment.

"I-I hope you're l-liking the view," she stutters, her face turning a deep shade of red.

"Of course I do," he replies, his voice firm.

"I-I don't think I'm that—"

"Shhh…" he again interrupts her. "There's no need to be shy."

"O-okay…" she replies, nodding.

"Just relax and let me take care of you," he says, his voice soft and gentle.

His words send shivers down her spine, her body shivering from his words.

He slowly moves Chaeyoung's hand that covers her crotch and spreads her legs open, exposing her wet pussy.

"Such a pretty sight," he murmurs, admiring her glistening pussy.

"Mmmh… Can you stop?" she groans, her pussy aching with need.

"Oh, I’m sorry," he chuckles, his hands gently caressing her thighs.

"I'll get right into it."

"P-please… I can't wait," she stammers, her face red.

His hands slowly move upwards towards her inner thighs, his fingers grazing her delicate skin.

"So soft… So warm," he whispers, his fingers touching her folds.

"Aah! T-that's so good," she whimpers, her breathing getting heavy.

His fingers continue to explore her wet pussy, his fingertips caressing her sensitive clit.

"You're so wet, Chaeyoung," he teases, his fingers brushing against her swollen clit.

"T-that's because we… We're in w-water," she stutters, her body trembling.

"Excuses, excuses," he laughs, his tone playful. "You know what I mean."

"I-I can't help it!" she whines, her face flushed. "You're making me… Feel s-so good."

"Then let me make you feel even better," he says, his fingers now slowly penetrating her tight pussy.

"Ahh! Oh fuck," she yelps, her body shivering.

"Looks like you liked that," he whispers, his fingers pumping inside her.

She nods in response, her body shuddering with each thrust.

He adds another finger, his digits begin to thrust faster and harder.

"Fuck. So tight," he compliments, his voice husky. "You're taking my fingers so well"

"Ahhh! It's so… Deep!" Chaeyoung moans, her eyes shut tight.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, his fingers moving at a steady pace.

"Y-yes! Oh, shit. Yes!" she stammers, her body shuddering.

"Looks like you can't last much longer," he teases, his fingers continuing their assault.

"P-please… I'm gonna…" she looks at him with pleading eyes.

"Then go ahead. Cum for me," he commands, his fingers plunging deep.

Her body shakes as her orgasm approaches. She tries to grip whatever part of his body as best she can as her muscles tighten.

"I’m… I'm gonna!" she pants, her eyes squeezed shut.

"That's it, Chaeyoung. Just let go," he encourages, his voice gentle.

Finally, her body twitches and shudders, her pussy squeezing his fingers as her orgasm hits her hard. Her hips buck wildly, her body squirming as waves of pleasure wash over her. She elicits a loud moan as her pussy contracts, her juices spraying all over his hand.

"Yes! Oh fuck!" she yells, her body spasming.

"Good girl," he compliments her, his fingers still thrusting inside her.

"I'm cumming! Fuck! I'm cumming!" she cries, her voice quivering.

"Keep cumming," he instructs as he continues to finger her, his fingers reaching deeper inside her.

"Please! Ahhh!" she moans, her body shivering with ecstasy.

"Come on, Chaeyoung. Let it all out," he says, his voice calm.

"I-I can't! I'm gonna… I'm gonna—ahhh!" she screams, her pussy squeezing his fingers one last time before releasing a huge gush of fluid, like a floodgate bursting open to the pool.

"Yes! Yes! Agh!" she screams, her body convulsing as she cums, her juices spraying onto her partner's hand.

He slowly pulls out his fingers, his hands sticky from her fluids.

"You sure did cum a lot, Chaeyoung," he comments, a playful grin on his face.

She doesn't answer, her face red, her body shivering with aftershocks. Her chest heaves, her breaths coming in ragged pants.

"So how was it?" he asks, curious about her thoughts.

"I'm… I can't think," she murmurs, her voice weak.

He chuckles, amused by her reaction.

"Seems like you liked that," he says, his tone teasing.

As much as she hates to admit it, she replies with a subtle nod.

"Though I hope you're ready for more," he whispers, grinning.

"Fuck. You're gonna be the death of me," she grunts, her breath still shaky.

"Don't worry," he replies, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I'll be more gentle this time."

"For some reason, I don't believe you," she responds, her voice a mix of frustration and excitement.

"Oh, come on. I promise," he replies, his tone playful.

She sighs at his silly plea. "Fine. Whatever."

"So, anything on your mind?" he asks her, an excited glint in his eye.

Chaeyoung tries to think of something interesting to do with her partner. After a few seconds, she giggles before looking at him with a seductive smirk.

"How about…" she pauses for a moment, trying to build the tension.

"What is it?" he asks, his eyebrow raised.

"Hmmm… Come with me first!" She then grabs his arm and pulls him towards the edge of the pool.

He complies and allows her to drag him with her. Once they reach the edge, she pulls him in for a kiss before playfully pushing him, his back now against the wall.

"What now?" he asks, curious.

She doesn't reply, instead, her hands slowly move downwards. He gets the message and lets her work on removing his swimming trunks.

Chaeyoung's delicate hands slowly pull his shorts down, freeing his half-hard member. It seems that it hasn't reached its full size yet, but her eyes are fixed on such a huge object.

"Mmmh… It's so big," she murmurs, her eyes staring at his cock.

"I'm flattered," he smirks, his voice calm yet playful.

"You must be popular with the girls," she says, a playful smile on her face.

He chuckles. "You can say that."

She continues to stroke his member, her soft hands rubbing against his shaft. He closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her hands touching his skin.

"Ooh… Yeah," he groans. "You feel so nice."

"T-thank you," she giggles, her eyes glimmering with lust. "I'm trying to make this fucking cock bigger."

"Well, you're doing a good job," he grins, his cock slowly growing hard.

"Glad you're liking it," she replies as her pace gets faster, her hands quickly moving up and down his cock.

"Ugh… That's so good," he grunts, his hips rocking as her hands work their magic on his throbbing shaft.

"Enjoying the service?" she teases a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

"Why wouldn't I?" he responds, his voice calm. "You're good at this."

She giggles, amused at his comment. "Beginner's luck, I guess."

"I can't tell if you're serious or joking," he replies, chuckling.

"Who knows?" she winks. "Does it matter?"

He pulls Chaeyoung closer, their faces mere inches from each other. The tension between the two continues to build, their breaths coming out hot and heavy as they stare into each other's eyes.

"Not in the slightest," he says, his tone deep and husky.

Without warning, his lips crash into hers, his hands pulling her even closer. His tongue slides into her mouth, exploring every inch of her soft, warm cavity. The young lady, as inviting as ever, reciprocates with an eagerness of her own.

Their tongues intertwine, their lips locked together. The two are locked in a passionate embrace as if they are two lovers who haven't seen each other in years. They continue to press their bodies against each other, their breaths becoming louder and hotter as the kiss becomes more intense.

As their kiss grows more and more passionate, his cock throbs in her hands, her pace getting faster and faster. As his shaft becomes harder and harder in her hands, it pulsates and begins to twitch.

"Are you close?" Chaeyoung breaks the kiss, a seductive smile can be seen on her face.

He nods, his cock fully erect and ready to burst.

The response from her partner causes her to increase her pace, her soft, delicate hands stroking his shaft vigorously. His hips begin to rock, his breathing getting heavier and faster.

"F-fuck… I'm so close…"

"Yes. Let it out," she purrs, her voice sultry. "Give me all of it."

"Chaeyoung-ah, I'm gonna…"

With one final stroke, his cock bursts, releasing a massive load of thick, white cum, covering her hands. She does her best to catch all of his semen in her hands, but the excessive amount he releases proves to be too much for her to handle and drips to the water below. She continues to stroke his shaft, milking his cock as her hands are fully covered in his seed.

"Oh, fuck…" he groans, his cock twitching as his load spurts out of his cock.

"You liked that, didn't you?" she asks, smirking.

"Hell yeah, I did," he chuckles, his body feeling exhausted.

"I can see why you're popular with the girls," she teases, her fingers scooping his seed and licking it off her fingers.

"Delicious."

He smiles. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"But.." she smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief. "The game's not over yet."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Chaeyoung quickly lowers herself, her face now positioned right in front of his member. Without hesitation, she engulfs his cock with her mouth, her lips wrapping around the tip. Little by little, she forces herself to take his girthy shaft, her throat struggling to fit his length.

"H-hey!" he exclaims, surprised at her bold move.

She ignores her partner and continues to suck his cock, her pace increasing. Her mouth makes slurping noises, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks him vigorously.

"Mmmh," she hums, his cock deep in her mouth.

"F-fuck… That's so good," he moans, his voice heavy with pleasure.

"I know," she mumbles, her lips wrapped around his cock.

"God… So good," he growls, his hips moving.

She continues to suck him, her head bobbing up and down his shaft. She looks up at him, her eyes filled with lust and desire looking straight at him. Her eyes are like that of a predator, her prey now at her mercy.

"Ugh, shit…" he mutters, his breathing becoming heavier. "You're eager to get ahead of me, huh?"

She didn't answer. But her increase in speed and intensity is proof of her determination to beat him.

"Yes, that's it. Just like that," he praises, his voice heavy with arousal. "Fuck… Your mouth feels so fucking good."

She retreats and releases his member, a thick strand of cum and saliva connecting his swollen tip and her soft lips.

"Hope you don't mind me getting another point," she teases, a playful grin on her face.

"Just get on with it, " he grunts, smiling. "Fuck, you're a lewd sight."

"Oh shut up and enjoy, will you?" She teases, her tone sultry.

"You don't have to ask me twice," he chuckles, amused.

Chaeyoung again engulfs his shaft, her tongue lapping on his sensitive skin. She takes him whole in one go this time, his cock hitting the back of her throat. Her eager attempt causes her to choke, but she does her best to not gag.

"Fuck… You're too good," he praises, his voice shaking.

She resumes to suck his cock, her head moving up and down his shaft. Her throat quickly adjusts to his size, allowing her to take him in deeper and deeper. Her eyes never leave him, her gaze fixated on him as her mouth is full of his member, her head bobbing furiously.

"Fuck! I think I'm gonna cum again," he grunts, his breathing becoming ragged.

Like a signal, her pace increases. She is determined to make him cum again. She wants more of his semen. She is hungry for it.

"H-holy fuck," he pants, his eyes shutting tight. "I'm close, Chaeyoung!"

Her pace increases even more, her head wildly bobbing up and down his length as she attempts to make him cum. She can't seem to resist his taste, as if it's a drug.

"S-shit… I'm gonna explode!" he growls, his body twitching.

She feels his cock pulsating in her mouth, his length fully erect and ready to burst. She drives herself to the brink of madness, her pace so fast and violent that she begins to gag. She doesn't care. She wants his semen. She needs it.

With a loud, guttural moan, his hips buck and his cock explodes, sending a massive load of his hot seed inside her mouth. Her eyes widen as she struggles to take it all in, but his release is too much, catching her off guard. A thick trail of his cum drips out of her mouth and down her chin. She gags and chokes, but she does her best to swallow every last drop. His orgasm continues for a few moments longer, his load continuing to spew inside her mouth, his cock pulsating and throbbing.

"Fuck! S-so good," he pants, his body shuddering.

After an almost non-stop stream of cum, his cock finally stops releasing, and Chaeyoung slowly withdraws from him. Thick strands of his semen and saliva connect his shaft and her lips, making an erotic mess of her. It seems crazy how such a pretty girl like her can look even more attractive with the amount of cum on her face.

"Goddamn," he says, his breathing heavy. "That was amazing."

She licks her lips clean, his cum still dripping down her chin.

"How was it, hmmm?" she asks, her voice sultry.

"Amazing. Best blowjob ever."

"Good," she smiles, her expression smug. "I can tell you enjoyed it."

"You bet I did."

"It's not everyday an idol would give anyone a… Special fanservice."

"Guess I'm a lucky fan, then."

"Lucky indeed. Though the game's not over yet, is it"

"What do you mean? I already came twice."

"Doesn't mean we're done, does it?"

Despite spurting such a huge amount twice in a row, her words seem to excite him still. His cock springs back to life, already at half-mast.

"You're right," he grins, leaning closer to her. "We're not done yet."

"That's the spirit," she smiles. "Though I'll be taking the lead."

"Oh?"

"You can rest for a bit," she says, her tone playful.

"You think I can't keep up with you?" he asks in an intrigued yet playful tone.

"Not really," she giggles. "You just look like you're about to pass out."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," she replies, chuckling. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

Feeling challenged, he quickly grabs Chaeyoung by her legs and lifts her up the water.

"I'm gonna show you that I can still keep up," he growls, his eyes full of determination.

"W-woah!" she yelps, taken aback by his sudden move. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you a ride," he responds, his hands firmly gripping her thighs.

"Eh? A r-ride?"

"That's right," He nods, smiling. His cock slightly grazes against her inner thighs, slowly nearing her crotch. "You wanted to lead, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then here's your chance," he interrupts, grinning.

"Wait, what are you—oh! Oh fuck!" she gasps, suddenly feeling his cock penetrating her pussy.

He enters her with a powerful thrust, his shaft sliding all the way inside her tight, warm walls.

"Shit. So tight," he groans, his cock throbbing inside her.

"F-fuck… Y-you're so big!" she whimpers, feeling his girth stretching her insides.

"And you're soaking wet, Chaeyoung," he smirks, amused.

"W-what are you talking about? I'm not—ahh!" she moans, her body jolting with every thrust.

"I'm not gonna let you win that easily," he grunts, his pace slow but firm.

"Oh yeah? Nghh! Y-you… Think you're gonna w-win?"

"Still underestimating me, huh?" he growls, his fingers digging into her fleshy butt.

Despite the tough shell she displays, his aggressive moves make her moan involuntarily. Her arms wrap around his neck, while her legs lock around his waist. Try as she might, the immense pleasure seems to be flooding her inhibitions away.

"Nghh! F-fuck…"

"You're liking this, huh?" her partner taunts her as his pace quickens.

"Ahh… S-so good," she whispers, her voice shaking.

"That's what I thought," he smirks.

He continues to pound her with his cock, his shaft reaching her deepest depths.

"F-fuck! D-don't… Go faster!" Chaeyoung screams, her face flushed.

"Who do you think will win, huh?" he teases, his voice full of arrogance.

"Fuck you!" she snaps, her body trembling.

"I like it when you talk dirty," he chuckles, amused.

He thrusts his cock deep inside her, causing her to gasp.

"Nghhh! Shit!" she yells, her pussy tightening around his shaft.

"Feeling good?"

"N-no! I'm just… Mhhh!" she protests, her voice weak.

"Just admit it," he says, his cock pulsating inside her.

"Aghhh! T-that's cheating!" she complains, her body shuddering.

"Excuses, excuses…" he smirks, his thrusts becoming deeper and stronger.

"I'm gonna… W-win, you know," she boasts, challenging him.

"Really, huh?" he chuckles, looking at her dazed eyes. "Looks like you can't even think properly."

"You're just… Nghhh! You're moving too fast!" she exclaims, her voice weak.

"Then if that's the case…" he then walks slowly towards the pool stairs, his cock still deep inside her.

"W-what are you… Hahh! What are you doing?"

"Giving you a proper ride," he says, his tone smug.

He takes slow but heavy steps as he carries her towards the pool stairs, making her squeal with each movement.

"You… Y-you're so mean," she whines, her pussy tightening.

"Sorry, Chaeyoung. But we're against each other here," he says, his eyes full of mischief.

"Fuck!" she whispers angrily to herself in frustration.

"What's the matter?" he taunts, his cock sliding inside her with ease.

"N-nothing… Hngh!" she grunts, her teeth gritting.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Fuck! Just… Just fucking fuck me! Goddammit!" Chaeyoung admittedly yells, her face red and flushed.

"Now that's more like it," he smirks, amused.

Her partner resumes his relentless assault, pounding her hard and deep as they near the edge of the pool. Chaeyoung's moans are getting louder and louder, her body quivers as if she got shocked by lightning.

"Shit… You're so big…" she whispers, her body shaking with pleasure.

"Feeling good, aren't you?" he taunts, his pace steady.

"Nghh… No!" she replies, her trembling in frustration and pleasure. "T-this is… Fuck!"

"That's what I thought," he sneers.

"Ahhh! When are you gonna stop?" she whines, her voice full of desperation.

"When I'm done," he answers, his tone casual.

"Y-you…" she grunts, her face red. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Of course," he answers with a smug grin on his face.

"Oh, fuck me…" she whispers, her breathing heavy.

"Looks like someone's getting close," he comments, his voice full of amusement.

"No I'm not! I'm—fuck!" she snaps, her voice shaking.

"Come on. You're denying it but you're pussy's getting tighter," he teases.

"Nghh… Fine!" she finally gives in.

"I'm… Fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"There we go," he smirks, his cock throbbing. "An honest answer."

"B-but… Not before you!" she shouts, her pussy squeezing his cock.

"Heh. Still got some fight left in you, huh?"

"M-maybe… I-I don't know!" she yells, her face red.

"Well, if that's the case, then I better make sure you can't keep up," he sneers, his cock pounding her with reckless abandon as he exits the pool. Despite his aggressive movements, he gently lowers Chaeyoung to the pool’s deck, his cock never leaving the tight embrace of her walls.

He then continues his relentless assault, his thrusts deep and rough. He moves his hands to her breasts and starts to massage her perky, erect nipples.

"F-fuck… Not my nipples!" she whimpers, her pussy clenching around his shaft.

"Feels good, huh?"

"Hahh… Y-yes," she admits, her face flushed.

"There’s a good girl," he smiles, his fingers pinching her nipples. He then leans forward to suck on them, his tongue swirling around her sensitive nubs.

"Aghh! Don't suck on them!" she whines, her voice weak.

He doesn't answer. He keeps on sucking her nipple as his cock pounds her as deep and as hard as he could.

"Fuck! I'm gonna go crazy, you asshole!" she yells, her face red and hot.

"That's what I like to hear," he chuckles.

"But I'm not… Losing… To you!" Chaeyoung grunts, sounding determined despite her weak position.

"We'll see about that," her partner replies, his pace picking up.

"Ahhh! Fuck! You're going too fast!" she protests, her hands reaching for his back, her nails digging into his skin.

He continues his relentless assault, his pace unrelenting as his cock ravages her insides.

"S-stop…" she whispers, her body shivering with pleasure. "I can't take it anymore!"

"Then cum," he says, his breath heavy. "I know you want to."

"B-but… But I…"

"Shhh…" he shushes her. "I'll do it with you."

"Nghh… B-but I'm not gonna lose to—"

His lips interrupt her words, gently crashing into hers. Chaeyoung tries to resist, but her mind becomes blank as his tongue slides into her mouth.

Despite the feisty attitude she's showing towards him, she kisses him back as their tongues intertwine in a passionate dance. Gone are their antagonistic antics against each other, and the only evident thing are fervent thrusts and muffled moans from the two of them.

The tension builds and their kiss grows more intense. Their hips move together as one, their bodies grinding against each other. They are locked in a passionate embrace, their desire burning deep within them.

"Fuck," he groans. “Your pussy feels so fucking good.”

"Aghh! S-stop… You're making me…" she stammers, her voice soft.

"Come on, Chaeyoung. Give me all you got," he whispers, his cock pounding her deep.

"F-fuck…" she grunts, her eyes squeezed shut. "I'm gonna cum again!"

"That's right," he coos in her ears. "Let me feel you cum."

"Y-yes!" she cries, her voice strained. "Oh shit… Ahh!"

With a loud moan, Chaeyoung’s pussy clenches his cock, her body convulsing as her orgasm hits her hard, waves of pleasure washing over her. She can't do anything but hold onto her partner’s back as her orgasm ravages her body, her arms and legs locked around him. Her juices spray uncontrollably out of her, covering his cock with her sticky fluids.

"Ahh! Fuck!" he yells, his body shivering as his orgasm approaches. "My turn… Hngh!"

"C-cum inside me, p-please…" she begs, her voice weak.

"Here it comes… Nrgh!"

After a few wild thrusts, his cock bursts inside her, releasing a huge load of his thick, hot seed. His hips rock and buck as his cock spews a massive stream of cum, his semen overflowing from her tight pussy.

"Yes! Oh fuck! Your cum feels so warm inside me," she moans, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Ugh… Take it all, Chaeyoung!" he growls as he continues to thrust all he's got inside her.

"Fuck… I can feel it coming out of my pussy," she moans, her pussy still squirting her fluids.

"Shit. You're so hot, Chaeyoung" he grunts and goes to kiss her once again.

"Mmmh… I love your cock," she purrs, her body shaking.

They continue this sensual moment, their bodies pressed together, their mouths locked in a passionate embrace. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure for the two of them, and they reveled every second of it. Despite being filmed, they didn't care. All that mattered was the moment they were sharing that burned deep within their minds.

As the intense lovemaking subsides, their lips break apart from each other. He withdraws himself from her, his cock covered with their mixed juices that connect from her freshly fucked pussy. He then moves a few inches away from her, trying to take a seated position with his exhausted body. Chaeyoung on the other hand, is left panting, her body trembling, her chest heaves for air and her pussy gushes out their mixed fluids, leaving a trail of love juice that pools below her.

"Hahh… Hah… Oh fuck…" he breathes, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Nghh… Are you… Okay?" Chaeyoung asks him, her voice barely audible.

"I'm… Whew. I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah… I'm… I think I'm good," she replies, her body still shuddering with aftershocks.

"Fuck… That was good," her partner groans, his voice heavy.

"Do you… Want more?" she proposes as she tries to lift herself up the floor into a more comfortable position.

He crawls towards her, his seemingly tired body ready for yet another round.

"If that's what you want…"

The young lady is already feeling the effects of his relentless assault, her body trembling as she anticipates his cock pounding her once more with reckless abandon. But the pleasure of having her insides ravaged by his girthy shaft is too much for her, and she is helpless to resist his advances.

"Mmmh… Keep going," she urges him on, her voice shaky.

But as they ready themselves to have another go, the buzzer rings, indicating that time is up.

"Huh? Already?" the young man groans.

"Looks like we got carried away," she giggles, her breathing heavy.

"Yeah," he snarls. "I got so lost in all that."

"So… Who won?" she asks, her tone curious.

"Not sure," he shrugs. "You?"

She looks confused.

“Me? I don’t know.”

The screen then showed the result of this rather interesting game:

"RESULTS:

3-2 in favor of Chaeyoung!

CONGRATULATIONS! You succeeded in the challenge!"

"Oh wow," he smiles.

"Really? I did! Yay!" she cheers, clapping her hands in excitement.

"Yeah, you did. Good job, Chaeyoung," her partner congratulates her, clapping his hands as well.

"Thank you!" she replies as she gives him a hug, her face beaming with joy.

"You're a great partner," he praises her. "It was a lot of fun."

"Thank you again," she blushes. She then looks around her.

"So what now?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "No one told me what to do after the challenge."

The screen then shows a new message for the two of them:

"Congratulations on completing the challenge. The pair should then proceed to the final area after a signal in a few hours. In the meantime, you can do whatever you want together in this area. Have fun!"

"Huh. So we're gonna wait, then," Chaeyoung concludes, reading the message.

"Looks like it," he replies, shrugging.

"What are we supposed to do until then?"

"Who knows," he shrugs, then looks at her with a sly smile.

"We can… Start where we left off, you know?"

"Hmmm…" she smiles, her cheeks slightly turning pink. "We can do that."

"Fuck. Aren't you restless?"

Albeit struggling due to the intense fucking from earlier, Chaeyoung still chose to stand up on her feet, her legs wobbling. Luckily for her, he’s there to give assistance. She then gestures to her partner to stand up, to which he obliges. As soon as they've gathered their footing, she suddenly gives him a rather obvious gaze.

"M-maybe we can do something else first," she suggests, grinning mischievously.

"Uhh... What did you have in mind?" he asks, curious.

She then walks back towards the pool, gently tugging him along.

"I just want to swim around for a bit," she replies, smiling. "Do you mind joining me?"

"Sure," he replies, his eyes fixated on hers. "I suppose a little swim would be nice."

"Great." Chaeyoung beams with joy.

"Let's go."

As the two dip their bodies into the pool, the camera follows them from above as they enjoy each other's company in the water. They swim around, playing and laughing together. They exchange more playful banters and even more sensual moments with one another. It is clear that the two of them have hit it off quite well, and the sexual tension between them continues to build. Even as the video fades to black, you know Chaeyoung and her partner are just getting started.

Two videos down, and many more to go. Reviewing videos for long periods is tiring, but not in this case. Instead of exhaustion, you are filled with renewed excitement and anticipation. With a quick check of the time, you realize that lunch break is coming up. But your stomach would have to wait.

You close the current window and open the next video file.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author’s Notes:

As promised, this is the next chapter of my "Spotlighting" series. It wasn't easy to pick an idea that'll suit Chaeyoung. I originally wanted her to do an "indoor surfing" challenge. But I quickly realize that I'd rather want her to be rag dolled by her partner than by the waves. 😂 And as wimpy as this tall squirrel can be, I don't think she'd back down from a challenge, especially when there's something promising on the line. So I guess playing water polo suits her.

Now that I thought of it... It's find it interesting for the idols to have some sort of "competition" with their partners. It really makes for some really wild ideas where neither of them is backing out, even when doing the deed. 😏

Once again, thank you to the people that helped me make this fic readable. 🤣 @digipigichopshop and @dnd-writes... Thank you so much, you two. 🙇 Be sure to follow them if you haven't already. As well as @braaan for another great poster. You guys are the best. 👍

Again, thank you very much for reading! 🙇

#smut #kpopfanfiction #kpopfanfic #kpopsmut #fromis9smut #chaeyoungsmut #leechaeyoungsmut

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