#i need like a CRUMB of continuity please...

[neellscapsule]

My Heart — Part Eight

summary | your family realizes how much they have missed. the problem is that you are a grown up by now, and terrible hurt by their neglect.

pairing | platonic yandere batfam x batsis!neglected!reader. conner kent x reader.

warnings / tags | angst, hurt/comfort, y/n is mentioned as a female, trauma, family issues, mostly trust and daddy issues. they all love each other (PLATONICALLY) they just don't know how to feel it and express it correctly. make out with conner.

i think they are quite clingy in this part, i would say it gets yandere-ish but quite needed. feverish reader that gets too much love and she soaks on it still hating it because they treat her as if she was a baby ???? and she is a grown adult

word count | 7.6k

authors note | hi there!! english is not my first languaje so there might be some mistakes, or not, it can depend :) please vote <3 dick is 28. jason is 23. reader will be 22 in a few months. cass is 21. tim is 20. duke is 18. damian is 13. conner looks 22 as well.

taglist | @cebrospudipudi @jjoppees @corvoqueen @nirvanaxx1942 @lilyalone @aixaingela @lettucel0ver @time-shardz @pix-stuff @galaxypurplerose @cupid73 @theproblemisthattimnotfictional @vanessa-boo @timebomb1101 @chemicalwindexbottle @chiizuluvr @ihavenomuse @mat5u0 @thismessyshe @lovebug-apple @myjumper @angwlart @esposadomd @nisarelle @mrmacwaffles @mazixxss @ememgl @naomi-xxi @bbmgirll @ash0-0ley @rowan-no-rizzz @hearts4mica @sillyheartmoonnyx @crumbs-and-covers @nininehaaa @ironsaladwitch @c4xcocoa @keyllsbk @welpthisisboring @redkarmakai @yuyuzi-ling @91-kya @mat5u0 @nymphzy0 @jeshomie @keysmashstuff @imsomniaccorner @rowan-no-rizzz @xoxoangellll @oliviaewl @dandelion-delusion @wendee-go @funtimekoda14 @serendippindots @tweetybomb

previous. next.

The city screamed.

A symphony of alarms, shattering glass, the high-pitched screech of tires fleeing chaos. Sirens were nothing more than distant wails against the bone-deep panic that rippled through Gotham’s underbelly tonight. Fear crept like smoke, thick and suffocating, curling into the cracks of the streets, clinging to the edges of the buildings like a parasite.

The night’s sharp breath curls over Gotham, a thick, oil-slick blackness stretching from rooftop to alleyway. Patrol is a cacophony tonight, a symphony of crashing bones and static-laced comms, of running feet and clipped orders.

Scarecrow and Riddler.

A pairing none of them wanted, and yet one that fits Gotham’s rotted spine too well.

“Move, Signal!” Nightwing’s voice cuts through the comms, winded, furious. “Spoiler, flank him—don’t let him corner you!”

“They keep spawning like cockroaches!” Jason snarls back, gunfire punctuating his words.

Robin’s blade whistles through the air, and there’s a satisfying grunt as another goon collapses in a heap. “You are too slow, Todd,” Damian’s clipped voice sneers through the comms. “Perhaps you should let Grayson carry you as well.”

“I will shoot you.”

“You can try.”

“You’re both insufferable,” comes Batgirl, calm despite the rising heartbeats, her fists driving into ribs with enough force to splinter bone. Her breathing is sharp, her movements sharper, not missing a beat, even as the wave of armed thugs continues to drown them.

And in the heart of this city’s newest nightmare, Batman prowls, his voice low and measured as he issues directions, as if he’s carved from the very concrete he moves across.

“Riddler’s leading them west. Scarecrow’s stationed near the chemical plant. We split.”

There’s little room for error, no time to breathe.

The goons, like moths to a flame, don’t relent.

The team fights in tandem, years of partnership guiding them in a brutal, seamless rhythm. But tonight isn’t just a battle. It’s an avalanche. A city collapsing on itself with every explosion, every toxic cloud blooming in the streets.

And then—

It happens.

A shadow cuts through the night. Not Batman’s. Not Robin’s. Not anyone they expected.

A flash of violet, sharp and cutting through the filth like a blade of defiance. The sound of a grapple line firing with a deafening crack.

She lands amidst the chaos with a sickening crack of bone, boots grinding into the asphalt, purple and black bleeding into the grime of Gotham’s underbelly, cape snapping behind her. The lines of her suit gleam faintly under the flickering streetlights, the familiar cross slicing sharp across her chest.

Huntress.

The comms falter. Breath catches.

"Who the hell—" Jason starts, his words dying as his gaze sharpens, the unmistakable tilt of his helmet revealing the flicker of recognition.

Tim stumbles mid-swing, his staff lowering a fraction too late.

“Is that—?” Duke’s voice comes next, stunned, hesitant, as if he can’t believe his own eyes.

Robin’s blade misses its mark entirely, his opponent landing a cheap punch to his side, but Damian doesn’t even flinch. His gaze is locked on you. Wide. Reverent. Furious.

“Sister,” he breathes, the word strangled on his tongue.

Nightwing’s voice is the only one that doesn’t falter, doesn’t hesitate.

“Birdie.”

And Batman— Bruce’s voice rumbled through the comms, low and unreadable. “Huntress.”

But you don’t hear them.

You don’t care.

You are a storm.

You move like you never left, like you were always meant to be here. Like you were carved out of Gotham’s marrow.

Your fists find ribs, your elbows meet jaws, the crack and pop of bodies colliding with pavement echoing with every step you take. There’s no hesitation in your strikes, no mercy in your precision. You move like a song, like a symphony you’ve always known, like your body remembers what your mind tried to forget.

A boot slams into a man’s knee, folding him instantly. Your baton slashes out, catching another in the throat.

Your siblings watch. They fight, but they watch.

Because Huntress is not a ghost in their memory anymore.

She’s here. And she’s merciless.

You tear through the grunts like paper, heading straight for the Riddler, whose panicked scrambling tells you everything you need to know—he never expected you again.

“Wait—hold on, wait—let’s not be rash!” he stammers, fumbling through his pockets for something, anything.

“Rash?” you echo, sweetly venomous, cocking your head just slightly. “Oh, Eddie. I’ve always been rash.”

He’s not a fighter. He never was.

“You think I forgot you?” Your voice was ice. “You think I forgot what you did?”

But you don’t give him the chance to think.

You slam him into the nearest brick wall, his cane clattering to the ground. Your fist meets his gut, knocking the air from his lungs. Another punch to his ribs, another to his jaw. The world is a red haze, your heartbeat roaring in your ears as you grind his face against the rough stone.

“Where’s the bomb?”

“Ha—” He coughs, blood flecking his lips. “It’s—it’s coded. Riddles. You know how it works—”

“I’ll leave your little toys to the others, then,” you growl, stepping back just enough to slam your boot into his chest, sending him sprawling.

A voice crackles through the comms.

“Working on the bomb,” Tim mutters, focused now, his earlier indignation forgotten. “Three more riddles. Hold the line.”

But you’re not looking at Riddler anymore. Your eyes snap to Scarecrow.

You’ve seen him before. You’ve punched that mask off his face before. You’ve bled because of him. Your worst nightmares came from him.

His head tilts, slow, deliberate. His hand flicks, syringes gleaming between skeletal fingers.

“You,” he croons, voice like a rusted blade dragging across wet stone. “I remember you.”

“Do you now?”

“You looked so much smaller last time.”

“Funny,” you hiss, stalking toward him. “You look exactly the same. Like someone who’s about to be fed his own teeth.”

He lunges.

You move faster.

You twist away from the syringes, your baton slamming across his arm, sending his weapon skittering across the pavement. His other hand darts toward your neck, but you catch his wrist, twisting it with brutal precision until he drops another syringe.

“You’re not afraid,” he murmurs, almost in wonder.

“Not of you.”

You slam him to the ground, your knee pressing into his chest, your fist driving into the side of his face, over and over, until the mask splits, until blood spatters across your gloves, until the rhythm of your own breathing is the only sound you can hear.

She slammed his head into the concrete until he stopped moving, until the fear in his limbs seeped out, until all that remained was a shell.

It should have been enough.

It was enough.

The bomb was in other hands. The riddles were being solved. The others were stabilizing the situation.

It should have ended there.

But the city didn’t let go.

The syringe plunged into your calf before you could move, sharp and precise, his last desperate strike. His hand twitched, a tiny, trembling victory as the plunger pressed down.

The toxin hit your bloodstream instantly.

The world spun.

It wasn’t like before. No slow rise, no creeping haze. This was vicious. Merciless. Immediate.

It exploded through your chest like fire, clawing at your ribs, searing up your throat, pulling the air out of your lungs. The edges of your vision trembled, shaking, splintering into colors too sharp, too vivid.

Your heartbeat roared in your ears, louder, louder, a deafening, suffocating drum that drowned out the comms, drowned out your own thoughts.

And the smell—

Rot. Flesh. Blood slicking old bones. The same scent that haunted you when you were fourteen, the same suffocating stench that told you you would always be too late.

“Huntress, respond.” It was Bruce’s voice, hard but cracked, sharp but frayed. “I need your status.”

You clawed at the syringe, ripping it off from your calf, yet the venom spread like wildfire, painting the world in old horrors, in fears that weren't supposed to hold power over you anymore.

But they did.

The collapse comes suddenly.

You stumble backwards, vision splintering, ribs tightening like something sharp and suffocating is pressing into your chest from the inside out. Your breaths are ragged, chopped into little pieces you can’t quite catch, your throat closing around each desperate pull of air as Scarecrow’s broken, mocking laughter rattles somewhere on the ground beneath you.

You press your hands against your face, as if you can claw it all away, as if you can physically scrape the gas, the smell, the terror from your skin. But it doesn’t go.

It never goes.

His toxin is already rooted deep, thick and acidic inside your bloodstream. It burrows into your bones, into the places you buried long ago, and it pulls. It rips.

You can’t see. You won’t see.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, pushing your palms harder into your sockets, because you know exactly what you’ll find if you dare to look. You remember the smell. Oh, you remember the smell.

The rot. The decay. The sickly-sweet sting of flesh melting from bone, of blood drying too fast, of tendons snapping apart. You remember it as vividly as you did when you were fourteen, gasping in your own bed, clutching at your own limbs just to prove they were still there.

You remember them—your brothers, your sisters—dead.

Jason’s twisted, mangled body, the way his mouth had frozen into a soft smile like he was waiting for you. Dick, bones shattered and arms torn from sockets, his spine snapped cruelly. Tim’s throat gaping open, skin grey and papery, fingernails peeled back like little curls of forgotten paper. Cass’s skin sloughing off her face in clumps. Steph’s pale eyes staring past you, past the ceiling, past the sky. 

Now, both Damian — little hands stretched out toward you, begging you to pull him free, but his skull was already caved in — and Duke — chest blown open, ribs curling out like broken wings — join them.

Your hands shake. Your knees buckle.

You can’t. You can’t look at them. You can’t see their faces.

Not like that. Not again.

You fall. You crumple into yourself, digging your nails into your scalp as if you can hold the fear in place, as if you can contain it, trap it, force it into submission. The toxin chews through your rationality, stripping you bare, grinding you down to that trembling thing you used to be, that fourteen-year-old sobbing into her sheets, burning with guilt and suffocating under the weight of abandonment.

You gasp for air that doesn’t taste like death.

But all you get is rot. All you get is blood.

“Get away from me!” you scream, voice hoarse, torn from somewhere deep in your ribs, desperate to be heard, to be obeyed. “Don’t come near me!”

Because you can’t see their real faces anymore. You can’t trust your eyes. You can’t trust the outlines of their bodies or the curve of their jaws. You know if you dare to open your eyes, you’ll see their flesh hanging, their sockets hollow, their fingers stiff in rigor mortis.

“I said don’t—!”

But arms wrap around you anyway. Strong. Solid. Unrelenting.

Jason.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Not even for a second.

His gauntlets press into your ribs as he locks his arms around you, caging you in, forcing your trembling body against his chest, his helmet scraping the crown of your head as he tucks you tight into the curve of his frame.

“You’re fine,” he grits out, low, determined, unmovable. His voice vibrates against you, steady and firm in a way that punches through the haze. “You’re fine. You’re not seeing us right, but we’re here. You hear me? I’m here.”

Your nails rake across his arms, frantic, not to push him away but to anchor yourself to something real, something that isn’t soaked in toxin. Your breathing shudders violently, like your lungs are trying to escape your own body.

“You’re dead.” It slips from your throat like glass. “I saw you die.”

“Yeah?” His voice hitches for half a second, like it still bruises him to remember. “But I got better, didn’t I? I came back.”

Your tears smear against his leather jacket, wetting the sharp edges of his armor. “But the smell—Jason, the smell—”

“Forget the smell. That’s not me. You know that’s not me.” His gloved hand fists the back of your cape, dragging you closer, grounding you in the heat of his body. “That’s just the gas talking. I’m here. I’m alive. I’ve been alive for a while, okay? You know that.”

You sob into his chest, trembling so hard you feel like your bones will splinter under the weight of it. Your heart races like it’s trying to outrun the memory.

Your other siblings’ voices echo faintly through the comms, overlapping with the sound of Jason’s pulse thudding in your ear.

“Is she okay?”

“What’s happening?”

“Respond!”

“Get her out of there!”

Jason’s arms tighten. He’s not letting go.

“I’ve got her!” he barks into the comms, voice sharp, furious that anyone would think he couldn’t handle you, furious that they’re not trusting him to hold you together. “Back off. She’s mine right now.”

His.

His to catch. His to hold. His to protect.

His to remind you that you’re still here, that this isn’t the end.

Your fists clutch his jacket tighter, the fear still gnawing, still writhing under your ribs like a parasite. “I can’t—I can’t see you—”

“Then don’t look,” he mutters, pressing his helmet against the side of your head. “Just hear me. Just feel me. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

You try to pull air into your lungs, to center yourself on the heat of his body, on the smell of his leather, his sweat, his gun oil—real things, solid things, things that belong to Jason and not to the hallucinations twisting inside your skull.

You can feel him breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours, the rhythm unshaken. His heartbeat thunders, fierce and defiant, a sound you could never conjure from a nightmare.

You sob again, voice trembling, “I don't want this, Jay. It's not fair- not to me. Not again.”

His hand tangles into the back of your hair, protective, possessive, like you’ll slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold you close enough. “I know, baby. It’s not. None of this has ever been fair.”

Your nails dig into his sides, not to hurt but to feel. To make sure.

“I saw you die,” you whisper, over and over, like if you say it enough, it’ll make it untrue.

“Yeah. Yeah, you did. I saw you leave, too,” he breathes against your ear, rough but steady. “But we’re both here now, aren’t we? That’s what matters. That’s what’s real, sissy.”

The toxin tears at the edges of your vision, but you grip onto him like you’re anchoring yourself to the earth.

Your siblings shout through the comms again, but Jason growls low in his throat, switching his channel, isolating it to just you and him.

“Forget them. Forget Crane. Forget the gas. Just hear me.”

Your breathing falters, your ribs straining against the rhythm, but you force yourself to match his inhalations, counting them like you used to as kids—one, two, three—back when life was a little less cruel.

You squeeze your eyes tighter. You can’t bear to see his face. Not while your mind is still painting it with decay, still peeling his skin back in the corners of your hallucination.

The minutes drag. You breathe. You count. You listen to his heartbeat.

You smell leather, and smoke, and Jason. Not rot. Not decay. Not death.

You shudder against him, your muscles aching from the tension, your head throbbing from the weight of it all.

“I can’t look at you.”

“You don’t have to.” He presses his gloved hand to the back of your neck, his grip firm but careful. “Just listen to me, baby bird. Just stay right here. I’ve got you.”

The cave is colder than usual tonight.

Not in temperature—though it always runs low—but in the quiet. In the stillness that follows the aftermath of a fight gone wrong. He had seen this scene a thousand times over the decades: the sterile lighting, the hum of machines, the clink of Alfred’s tools. His children lined up like soldiers in varying states of exhaustion and concern. But this… this is different.

Because this time, it’s you lying there.

You. His daughter. His sharp, headstrong, maddening, too-clever-for-your-own-good daughter.

You, strapped to the med bay stretcher like a fragile thing he doesn't know how to hold anymore. You, shaking faintly under Alfred's careful touch, veins still swimming with remnants of Crane’s toxin. You, skin flushed with adrenaline, your face pressed against the crook of your arm like you can somehow vanish into it, disappear into your own bones.

The Huntress suit peeled halfway up on your leg, the dark fabric clinging to your waist, your skin mottled with bruises and faint red patches from Crane’s toxin. You look… young. Younger than you have in years. Like the sixteen-year-old who used to sneak down to the Cave in the middle of the night, your sketchbook tucked under your arm, eyes wild with restless energy.

The others hover. Even Jason lingers nearby, peeled off from his usual refusal to be caged indoors for too long. Damian hasn't left the foot of the bed. His fists curl and uncurl rhythmically, jaw clenched tight enough to splinter teeth.

Dick's pacing, Tim looks like he might combust from nerves, Cassandra silent and still as stone beside the computer monitors, Steph perched awkwardly on the steps, biting her thumbnail. Duke leans on the wall, watching. They're all watching.

But your eyes… your eyes aren't watching anything.

Not really.

They’re glassy. Half-aware. Lost in the fog of fear gas and old, buried terrors that Bruce knows far too intimately.

Bruce watches from a few paces away, chest tight, gauntlets creaking as his fists clench and unclench by his sides. There’s blood on his knuckles. He doesn’t remember when that happened.

“She’s still seeing it,” Jason grits out, voice sharp with the same panic Bruce remembers from so many years ago. “The toxin’s not fading.”

Bruce’s jaw locks. His throat aches with the weight of all the words he doesn’t know how to say. There’s nothing in his arsenal, no antidote ready, no precise formula he can conjure to erase the gas from your veins.

And yet, when Alfred glances over at him, it feels like he’s failed you again. That familiar sting—the cold weight of inadequacy—presses into his ribs like an old, splintered fracture that never quite healed.

You mumble something under your breath, incoherent, trembling.

He exhales slowly, his hands curling into fists at his sides. You look small in that bed. No one should mistake you for small—especially not him. But right now? Right now, you look fragile enough to shatter.

Alfred's voice breaks through the silence.

“She'll stabilize.” The older man doesn't glance up. His voice is gentle, patient. “The toxin will burn through in time.”

Time. The one thing you never seem to have enough of.

Bruce stares as you twitch faintly, your breath quickening again. Your hand curls toward your chest, and something like a whimper escapes your lips. It nearly stops his heart.

You don't whimper. Not even when you’re bleeding. Not even when you’re broken. But this? This hits different. This isn't a physical wound—this is years of unresolved weight crushing down at once.

He sees you, so small against the vast machinery of the Cave, and remembers every shape you’ve ever taken in his life: the chubby toddler who refused to nap, the pixie-quick child racing up the clock tower stairs, the fierce teenager unveiling the Huntress with trembling pride, the wounded artist who followed her talent into the shadows of New York. He remembers every lullaby he ever sang, every stern word he ever spoke, every moment he should have held you tighter.

Alfred clears his throat softly, a reminder of your fragility. “Master Wayne,” he says quietly, “she’s stable for now. The sedatives are wearing off. The antidote should metabolize by sunrise.”

Bruce nods, eyes never leaving you. “Thank you,” he replies, voice hoarse. He steps closer. He reaches out, as if to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead, but he hesitates. Then his hand trembles forward, fingertips grazing your cheek, gentle as a butterfly’s wing. You stir, chest flicking, lips parting in a breath that sounds like it could shatter glass.

“Will she be okay?” Damian asks, voice too quiet. Jason is faster to answer.

“Of course she will, Demon's spawn,” he spits, but not cruel. “She is strong like that. Not the first time she is against the toxin.” 

“She just . . . She just needs to rest,” Dick mumbled. “I'll take the little bird to her room.” 

And, without even looking at any other face, he grabs you, carrying you between his arms as if you were as light as a feather. You didn't even react, if anything, you just got closer to his chest, comfortable in the strangely warm leather against your skin. 

With that, Dick and Jason disappeared with you. Damian was the quickest to follow, and with him, Cass. 

Morning light seeps lazily through the heavy curtains of your room.

It feels wrong, too soft, too slow for the weight that usually drapes over your shoulders like chainmail. You’re used to the noise—the alarms, the comms, the scuff of boots on concrete—but this? This is disorienting. The quiet presses in from all sides, almost suffocating, almost peaceful, like the storm has paused just long enough to mock you.

You groan softly into your pillow, throat raw, your skin still prickling from the night before.

Your body burns. Not with rage, for once, but with fever. It clings to your skin, sticky and oppressive, the aftershocks of Crane’s toxin refusing to leave without a fight.  It clings to you like a second skin.

It burns hot under your cheeks, tangling itself into your pulse, your breath, your thoughts. You’ve never been good with fevers—always left you sluggish, miserable, like your bones were filled with wet cement. But compared to the toxin? Compared to the nights spent suffocating in your own head, drowning in your own fear? This… this you can survive.

You drift in and out of consciousness, tangled in the too-soft sheets of your old room, the curtains pulled tight, the windows cracked to let the cool air settle over your flushed skin. Someone's been rotating the damp cloth on your forehead, you can feel the faint residue of it even as your fever fights back. The room smells faintly of antiseptic, faintly of lemon tea, faintly of home.

Not that you know what home really feels like anymore.

Your limbs are heavy. Every muscle sluggish with fatigue, head fogged over with the lingering effects of the toxin, but the worst is over. You can tell. The sharp terror, the crushing hallucinations, the clawing paranoia—they’ve all receded, retreating back into the corners of your mind like the cowardly ghosts they are.

You don’t remember much about getting back to the manor. You don’t remember how Jason’s arms held you steady, or how Dick whispered soft reassurances in your ear as you folded closer to his chest like instinct, like muscle memory.

But you remember the cold.

It lingers.

That bone-deep chill that even the fever can’t quite burn out.

It’s just you now. You, and the warmth of the room. You, and the muffled voices just beyond the door.

The door creaks open softly. Heavy footfalls—quiet but familiar—pad across the floorboards.

“Hey, birdie,” comes the low murmur, so full of gentle affection it coils around your ribs like a warm blanket. Dick. Of course.

You don’t even bother opening your eyes. You’re exhausted, but his voice pulls a faint smile to the corner of your lips. You hear him set something down—probably a tray—and then the bed dips beside you as he settles onto the edge.

“Time to wake up for a bit,” Dick whispers, fingertips brushing your forehead, checking for heat. You lean, instinctive and sluggish, into the touch, chasing the cool of his skin without thinking.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, quiet and fond, hand flattening over your temple, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. “You’re burning up.”

You sigh, the sound small, tired. The room spins a little when you finally manage to pry your eyes open. He looks blurry at first, like some warped photograph from your memories, all dark hair and ocean eyes, broad shoulders tense with concern.

“‘M fine,” you croak, voice rough, scratchy. His brows furrow instantly.

“Liar,” Dick hums, not unkind. “You’re miserable. And you scared the hell out of everyone last night.” His hand doesn’t leave your face, stroking the edge of your cheek, thumb smoothing over your temple. You melt into it, weak and fevered, too out of it to fight the warmth creeping into your chest.

He moves the tray closer, filled with broth, toast, and what looks like more of Alfred’s teas.

“Think you can sit up? I’ll help,” Dick offers, slipping an arm behind your shoulders before you can answer. You don’t resist, head falling naturally against his chest as he props you upright, tucking the pillows behind you like a practiced nurse.

The broth smells good. You can’t deny that.

“You’re spoiling me,” you murmur, throat still raw but words clearer now. His grin widens, impossibly soft.

“Someone’s gotta do it. You practically run on spite and trauma these days.”

Despite the ache in your head, a snort escapes you. “Takes one to know one, Grayson.”

Dick's laugh is quiet, but it rumbles through his chest, vibrating softly against your arm where you’re leaning. His hand stays at your back as he carefully brings the spoon to your lips, patient, steady, and so suffocatingly gentle it makes your eyes sting for a different reason entirely.

You hate being weak.

But… being here? Leaning into his warmth? Letting him care? You’ve missed it more than you’ll ever admit out loud.

He reaches for a piece of toast, carefully tearing it into small, manageable bites, holding one near your mouth until you grudgingly accept it. You chew slowly, painfully, but you eat. His other hand never leaves your cheek, steadying you, anchoring you.

“Good Birdie,” he says with a small smile, teasing but soft. “You’re doing great.”

You don’t mean to lean more into him, don’t mean to let your body sink into his side like you’re trying to crawl into him, but it just happens. Your body gives out, shifting closer, your fingers curling weakly into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re warm,” you croak, barely able to keep your eyes open now.

“Yeah?” he grins, tugging you in fully, tucking you into his lap like you weigh nothing. “Come here, then. I got you.”

His arms wrap around you, solid and sure, rocking you slightly. You don’t fight it. You just melt against him, face pressing into his collarbone, greedily soaking up the comfort he offers so easily.

“My little birdie,” he hums, kissing the top of your head. “So sweet and in such a good behaviour, aren't you? Still a baby.”

“I am not-”

“You are,” he mumbles, hugging you even closer. “Still my baby sister. You remember when you used to run into my bed to wake me up and force me to play tea parties at ten in the morning? I do. It was so funny pretending to be a princess. I hated your tea, by the way.”

“It was watered apple juice.”

Dick grimaced, but didn't let it show that much, preferring to cling to you, thanking whatever God had heard him to make you so needing of comfort that morning. He kissed your head again, smiling softly.

“I still loved those mornings.”

“. . . Me too.”

The quiet settles between the two of you, warm and heavy. Dick’s arms never loosen, not even for a second. His body is wrapped around yours with the tenacity of someone who knows, deep down, just how easy it is to lose the things you love. His cheek is pressed to the crown of your head, his breathing slow and steady, rising and falling like a lullaby you didn’t ask for but can’t push away.

Your eyes flutter shut, but the ache behind them doesn’t ease, not entirely. Your body is still weak, flushed with fever and the lingering whispers of toxin that cling to your veins like oil, but here—against him—you feel a little more solid, a little more anchored to the world.

It’s his hand, warm and calloused, stroking up and down your spine, that keeps you from completely drifting. Gentle, absentminded, protective in that overbearing, big brother way he’s never quite shaken off, no matter how old either of you get.

You just wish you had that brother when you really needed him.

You sink into him, not quite realizing when your arms curl around his waist.

Dick hums, chin resting on top of your head. “Missed you, little birdie. Missed this. You’re always running away.”

Your throat tightens. You could argue, could tell him you have your reasons, but your body is too tired to fight. You don’t have it in you to push him away. And maybe—just maybe—you don’t really want to.

“You’re warm,” you repeat, this time on a whisper, the admission small and almost childlike.

“Yeah,” he grins, squeezing you a little tighter. “You’re cold. Gotta balance each other out, right?”

It’s soft. It’s stupid. But it makes something in your chest crack.

The door slams open a second later, the footsteps are quiet, deliberate, too light to be Jason or Tim. Damian storms in like a hurricane.

“Tt. Grayson, remove yourself immediately.”

Dick barely glances at him, his arms tightening around you protectively, smug. “Nah. She’s comfortable.”

“She should be resting, not suffocating under your disgusting sweat.”

You shift just enough to peek at Damian, his arms crossed, his scowl fierce and deadly. But beneath it, you catch the flicker of jealousy, the stubborn demand to be the one in your arms instead.

“She’s fine,” Dick sings, pressing another kiss to your temple. “We’re bonding.”

Damian’s scowl deepens. “I was here yesterday. I took care of her too.”

“Yeah, but you’re always scary and threatening,” Dick grins. “She needs some positivity, not some gremlin snarling at her bedside.”

“I am not a gremlin!”

In three short strides, he's at the side of the bed. His small hands curl into the blanket as he studies you, sharp eyes trailing over your flushed face, your pale skin, the faint tremble still lingering in your frame.

“Tt,” he clicks again, eyes softening just enough for you to catch it. “Move.”

“Nope.”

“I’m her brother too.”

Dick’s grin widens. “She was my baby sister first.”

“She left before I could even know her,” Damian bites, but it falters halfway out, crumbling into something far too honest for his usual bite.

He unceremoniously plops on the other side of the bed, his body pressed flush against yours, his arms circling around your waist as if claiming you back from Grayson.

It’s awkward for a moment—too many limbs, too little space—but Damian doesn’t hesitate. His small, wiry frame fits against your side, his head ducking to your shoulder, his arms looping carefully around your waist like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you. He hides his face against your neck, his sharp exhale warming your skin.

You don’t push him away.

His grip tightens.

“She’s mine,” Damian hisses, biting at Dick’s hand when he sees it.

“She’s ours,” Dick corrects, his grin growing impossibly wide, all teeth. “But I got here first.”

“You’re suffocating her,” Damian insists, determined to find some moral high ground. “You’re clinging too hard. She is fragile right now.”

“She can’t be that fragile if she’s survived growing up with this family.”

“I was not present for most of her life,” he grumbles. “I was denied the chance to bond with her properly.”

“Plenty of time now, little brother.”

Dick exhales a quiet laugh, but there’s no teasing this time. Just something heavy. Fond. Maybe a little broken at the edges.

“Well,” he mutters, shifting to settle more comfortably, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other draped protectively across your shoulder, “this bed’s getting crowded.”

“Leave,” Damian commands, muffled against your skin.

“Never.”

You roll your eyes weakly, your body too heavy, your brain too fogged to really process the bickering properly. But the warmth—the steady press of their bodies, the soft thrum of their heartbeats on either side of you—it keeps the panic away. It keeps the ghosts at bay.

For now.

Damian's hand curls possessively at your hip, fingers pressing firm, grounding. His hair tickles your neck, his quiet breaths evening out as he rests against you. “You could rip my heart from my chest, and I'd still adore you, ukhti.”

“Ukhti?” You repeat, slightly confused. “What does that mean?”

“Sister,” he hisses, lowly, without anger. “My sister . . . You can't leave anymore. You won't, right? You'll stay here, ukhti.”

“You hear that, birdie?” Dick murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. “We’re not letting you go anywhere.”

And as your breathing slows, fever-slick and exhausted, you fear their words have too much truth in them.

The rest of the day drips by, slow and strange, like honey poured over cracked glass.

You’re not allowed to leave the bed. Not that anyone says it, not directly—but the quiet looks, the way Alfred gives you that sharp little raise of his brow, the hovering presence of your brothers—they all mean the same thing. You stay. You rest. You heal.

Jason shows up first, lounging himself in the chair by your bedside like he owns the damn place, a thick book in hand. You don’t even know where he found it, some old classic that probably hasn’t seen daylight since Alfred dusted the shelves that morning, but he flips it open and starts reading aloud like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His voice is rough around the edges, carrying that low rasp that somehow makes even the stiffest prose sound gritty and alive.

You mean to tease him about it, but you don’t. You just let the words settle over the room, over your skin, heavy and grounding.

Later, Duke swings by. Bright-eyed, mischievous grin firmly in place, he gives you a soft little show of light and shadow on the far wall. The way he manipulates the glow, making animals and little birds dance across the room—it pulls the first real smile out of you all day. He notices, of course. Duke always notices.

“See? Told you I’m cooler than all of them combined,” he jokes, making a glowing bat swoop through the air.

You snort, weak but genuine. “Careful, they’ll revoke your Wayne privileges.”

Duke winks. “Let them try.”

Then Tim arrives. Classic music follows him in like it’s stitched to his shadow. He brings your sketchbook—your real one, the good one, not the spare you’ve been using to scribble—along with pencils, charcoal, the whole kit. He doesn’t say much. Just settles into the corner chair, sipping coffee, scrolling through something on his phone while you sketch.

At some point, you draw him. You don’t even mean to. But his profile catches the corner of your eye, the curve of his jaw, the way the lamplight catches on his lashes—and suddenly, he’s there on the paper, sharp and delicate all at once.

You fall asleep like that. Warm, safe, with the scratch of pencil still faint in your fingertips.

When you wake again, the sketch is gone. The room smells faintly like your father’s cologne.

You don’t ask. You already know.

Cass, Barbara, and Steph sneak in after dinner. They bring snacks—little pastries, fruit, a mess of sweets that somehow end up scattered across the bed. You all eat quietly, comfortably. Cass curls beside you like a cat, Barb teases you over missing patrol, Steph threatens to smuggle you out the window for some chaos if you don’t heal up fast enough.

You almost believe them.

The night falls slow and heavy after that. Too heavy.

And you can’t sleep.

It’s infuriating, really. After a day of being half-comatose, of naps and fever-sweat and toxin flushing through your veins, your body should crave rest. But it doesn’t. It buzzes, tense and wide awake, every nerve on edge.

You toss. You turn. The sheets tangle. The moonlight spills across the floor, pale and cold, like a spotlight over your messy bed.

With a frustrated sigh, you reach for your sketchbook, dragging it into your lap. You flip a page, tap the pencil against the paper, and before you know it, familiar lines are taking shape beneath your hands.

Strong jaw. Broad shoulders. Eyes that should be too blue to be real. The curl of a smirk you know far too well.

You pause halfway through the sketch, frowning. You don’t write his name. You don’t have to.

Conner.

Idiot.

You groan, dragging a hand down your face, cursing your own traitorous brain.

It’s when the breeze picks up, faint but noticeable, that you freeze. Your window is cracked open—wide enough for the curtains to flutter, but… it wasn’t open a second ago.

Your heart kicks up a notch, adrenaline flooding your system.

Someone’s climbing in.

Your body moves before your brain can catch up. You grab the nearest pen from your nightstand—no time for real weapons—and rise from the bed, holding the pen like a blade. You stalk toward the window, ready to stab whoever the hell—

A shadow slips through the open frame, graceful as mist, and before you can jab the pen into their face, a hand catches your wrist, gentle but firm.

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart,” Conner’s voice purrs, far too smug for a man with your makeshift weapon inches from his eye. “Is that how you welcome all your late-night visitors?”

Your heart does a stupid little flip. Your face burns.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, yanking your hand back as he releases you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Conner grins, all teeth, leaning casually against the windowsill like he owns the place. His hair’s a little messy, curls flopping over his forehead, and the moonlight turns his eyes a ridiculous shade of ocean blue. He’s wearing that stupid leather jacket, the one that makes him look like trouble incarnate, and God help you, your knees feel weak.

“I missed you,” he says simply, like that explains everything.

“You—” You point the pen at him again, flustered beyond belief. “You can’t just climb into my room.”

“Pretty sure I can,” he counters, eyes glinting. “Superboy, remember? Climbing’s, like, my whole thing.”

“Flying is your thing.”

“Semantics.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Conner chuckles, stepping closer, slow and easy, invading your space like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He eyes your pajamas—soft cotton shorts, an oversized shirt—and his grin sharpens.

“Cute look,” he teases, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip. “Is this the ‘missing me’ outfit, or…?”

You sputter, mortified. “I—Shut up. What are you doing here?”

He grins, shameless, like he’s just been caught sneaking cookies instead of breaking into one of the most secure homes in Gotham.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs, tilting his head toward you. “Figured you couldn’t either.”

“How the hell did you get in?”

“Window was open.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“You left it open,” he cuts in, stepping closer. “Kinda looked like an invitation to me.”

“You’re insufferable.”

He laughs, full and warm, catching your wrist before you can retreat, his thumb brushing over your pulse. His touch is careful, like you might shatter. His eyes soften, even as the teasing lingers in his smile.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, sincerity bleeding through the bravado. “After last night?”

You hesitate, then nod, faint and reluctant.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” His hand slides up, cupping your jaw, thumb grazing your cheekbone. “You look…” His voice falters for a second, his gaze dipping over your face like he’s trying to memorize every inch. “Beautiful. But tired.”

Your cheeks flame. You hate him. You hate him so much.

“Conner,” you warn weakly.

He just smirks, leaning down until his nose brushes yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“Let me stay,” he murmurs. “Promise I’ll behave. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Technicality.”

You roll your eyes, but the tension in your shoulders loosens. Against all better judgment, you let him stay.

Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe it’s not. But right now, with the moonlight soft on his dark curls and his hand warm in yours, it doesn’t feel like one. It feels like breathing, like the weight pressing against your ribs has finally lifted, even just a little.

Conner’s grin widens when you don’t pull away, when you let him guide you back to the bed like this is his room, like he belongs here. Maybe he does. Maybe that’s why your fingers tighten around his without thinking.

He rests on the edge of the bed, a quiet sentinel in the dim glow of moonlight spilling through the open window. You sit beside him, still in your soft pajamas—the shorts too short, the shirt slipping off your shoulder—and there's something about the way he looks at you that feels more electric than any city lights.

His tone is gentle, low, playfully flirtatious. When he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, it's the same gesture he used to make when you were kids, more protective than affectionate, and somehow even more intimate now.

“I’ve been working on my stealth game,” he whispers, voice soft with pride. “Turns out climbing a manor—disappearing up walls—is easier when you’ve got someone waiting for you at the window.”

You raise an eyebrow, smile wry. “Glad to hear your stealth’s improved.”

He inches closer, eyes gleaming. “Should’ve seen your face when I landed. Priceless. You go from deadly Huntress to startled fawn in under a second.”

You scoff, but your cheeks burn. “I wasn’t that startled.”

“Sure,” he teases, tugging your pajama top shoulder down just to expose the delicate lace underneath. “Super sure.”

He only leans closer, looking at you like you’ve always been his favourite sight. It makes your stomach twist, makes your heart thud a little too hard.

“You’re really gonna let me stay? No protests? No conditions?” He grins wider, knowing the answer before you even say it.

“Do I need conditions?” you challenge, feigning boredom, but your voice gives you away. It’s a little breathless, a little warm. “Should I have drawn up a contract first?”

“I mean, I’m pretty trustworthy,” he says, lips brushing the edges of a grin. “Mostly.”

“You climbed in through my window.”

“Details.”

You arch a brow, leaning in, pretending to inspect him. “What would’ve happened if I stabbed you with that pen?”

Conner hums, tilting his head. “Guess you’d have to kiss it better.”

Your face heats up instantly, and you shove his shoulder, but he barely moves. His smirk only deepens.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me this way.”

Unfortunately, you do.

“Cocky,” you mutter.

“Only around you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips twitching despite yourself. He’s dangerous in this way—soft and sharp all at once, pulling you in and making you want to fall without a safety net.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Say that again,” he dares, his grin soft, his voice honeyed.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And I love that you think about me when you can’t sleep.”

Your stomach flips, but you catch yourself before you can fully spiral.

“I wasn’t.”

“Sure you weren’t.” He taps the sheet, right where your sketch of his jawline still lingers, half-finished. His smirk is all-knowing.

You groan, mortified, grabbing for the sheet, but he’s faster, snatching it out of reach and holding it high.

“Conner—”

“It’s really good,” he muses, not even pretending to hide the glee in his voice. “Didn’t know I was your muse.”

“You’re not.”

“Oh? So you just draw random, incredibly handsome men in the middle of the night?”

“Shut up.”

“You shut me up.”

So you do.

You kiss him, catching him mid-laugh, and you hate that he melts into it so easily, like he’s been waiting, like this is the only thing he’s been sure of all night.

His hands settle gently on your waist, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him. The kiss deepens, and he lets you take the lead, lets you decide how far you want to fall.

“You know,” he adds, kissing your cheek to redirect his way into kissing your jaw, “if I stay here, you’ll have to share your pillows.”

“I’ll kick you off the bed.”

“You can try.”

You gaze down at him, your expression deadpan despite the glimpses of desire shinning on your eyes. “I will.”

He grins, lowering his voice to a mock whisper. “I’d let you.”

“You’re so—”

“Charming? Handsome? Irresistible?”

You shove his face away, but he’s laughing, and it’s not even annoying because you’re laughing too, breathless, soft, finally—finally—at ease.

He brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear, thumb lingering against your cheek. “You know,” he says, voice low and teasing, “I’ve been waiting all day for this moment.”

You swallow, pulse fluttering like desperate wings. “What, you mean climbing through windows and trespassing at midnight?”

“Mm, that too,” he murmurs, sliding one hand around your waist. His palm presses against the small of your back, fingers curling gently. “But I mean right now. Just us.”

Your breath hitches. You’ve been cocooned all day in the warmth of your brothers’ care—Dick’s protective arms, Damian’s silent watch, Jason’s rough comfort—but with Conner, the air shifts. His presence is effortless grace, unguarded affection, a secret pulley tugging at your skin.

“I’m not just anyone,” you tease, flicking your thumb against his collarbone. “You know that.”

He chuckles low, leaning in until the tip of his nose brushes yours. “I know you’re not just anyone. That’s why I had to sneak in.”

You graze your fingers down his jawline, careful not to press too hard. “You’re—insane.”

“Crazy about you,” he corrects, and you flush, warmth flooding your cheeks. He cups your face, thumb tracing your lower lip. “God, you’re beautiful.”

He leans in slowly, giving you all the time in the world to pull away. You don’t. Instead, you close your eyes, and he brushes his lips across yours, a whisper of a touch. Then he deepens it, pressing gently at first, giving you space to respond.

When you open your mouth and let your tongue slip against his, the world shatters into sparks of light and heat. His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, fingers threading through your damp hair from the bath you took earlier. Your other hand slides into his hair, tugging him closer, needing him to match your mounting hunger.

His lips are soft but insistent, the brush of stubble against your skin electrifying. He tastes of peppermint and something dark, something intoxicating you can’t name. You sink into him, letting every worry slip away as he claims you in that small, stolen moment.

He smiles—one of those rare, unguarded smiles that lights his entire face—and tips your chin up. “Can I… stay?”

Your heart tightens. “Yes,” you murmur, voice soft. “Please.”

He settles beside you on the mattress, arms curling around you like a second skin. You rest against him, one leg draped over his thigh, petals of warmth unfurling across your body. The heat of his chest seeps through your pajama top, chasing the chills that linger from your fever.

For a long moment, you just lie there, tangled together, the night wrapping around you like a secret you never want to share. The world outside your little bubble—the Manor, the family, the expectations—feels miles away.

And you decide you can't let him go away.

Ever.

[mika-thexd]

I need more mics and drums but BUILDERMAN EDITION ‼️‼️

I'm eating your au up and leaving no crumbs for the others🤭 sorry not sorry

A/n: after your chance fanfic I just HAD TO PROPOSE TO U so this is my proposal to you PLEASE ASAWAHIN MO NA AKO MAHAL 💍💍 @mikkies also my personal headcanon is that he's Filipino idc if it's not canon I DO WHATEVER I WANT

Muilti Instrumentalist! Builderman

The sun was setting as the band packed their belongings together, all of them were physically tired from their performance; Noob was trying hard not to fall asleep, Elliot was stretching his arms, and Dussekar was carrying the equipment that Shedletsky couldn't carry. All of them had their arms slumped, especially Builderman.

They couldn't handle human interaction anymore and would rather drop dead on the floor than speak any longer. Heck! Even Chance; the most talkative person they know shut their mouth up.

But, it was expected of course, since it was their first time performing in a stage.

They were just gonna pack the last set of speakers when someone called out to them. "WAIT" someone shouted, they froze up and turned to look at who was shouting for their attention, the person in question was running towards them with a guitar slung over their shoulders.

Some of them held a groan— they didn't really wanna deal with anyone right now, and their tired forms were evident of that. And you knew that.

And while you were approaching them, they were silently communicating who they wanted to send to talk with you— and they all unanimously agreed that builderman was more suited for that; yes he was tired, but he was more likely to be polite talking to fans— well, limit there of.

When you finally reached them, builderman stepped up to talk to you, but before he could you held out your hand, as if to signal him to wait, and he did, while you regained your breath.

After catching your breath back you slowly stood up from your slumped position and handed your ukelele to him. He was about to protest but you cut him off before he could "I know that you don't wanna deal with fans anymore" you started. Then you looked up, finding a new found confidence and held eye contact "But I'm not here to talk"

"I'm here for you"

A beat of silence passed between you two— a really uncomfortable one that made you realize what you just said "WAIT— no no I don't mean it like that— I meant—" he chuckled at your scrambling and flustered attempt to explain yourself; the kind of chuckle that made butterflies flutter around your stomach, it was hearty, tired, and filled with warmth at the same time.

"It's okay, what do you want me to do?" He asked with a tired smile— the best smile that he could do admist his tiredness, you smiled in returned. "I just want on you guy's signatures on my guitar" you said while taking off your guitar and handing it to him.

Your guitar had a lot of stickers, paint, and laces on it, it was chaotic and aesthetically pleasing at the same time, and he couldn't help but smile unconsciously at the charm of it.

He handled it with care and carried it in his arms with gentleness that made you wonder if he thought that it was made of glass. "Are you a long time fan of ours?" He asked while holding his hand out for a pen. You gave it to him while answering his question, "yeah, how'd you know?"

He smiled and pointed at the first ever poster they released using Chance's printer— it was the same one, but smaller to fit the guitar, you flushed at the revealed fact, not expecting him to notice right away, but I guess it's noticeable when you're the one who made it. "Kinda hard not to when that's literally plastered there" he teased.

You chuckled and shook your head in embarrassment. He smiled and continued to sign your guitar.

He handed you back the guitar, you took it back graciously and gawked at the ingrained initials and at the signature— your one and only dream to be noticed by an artist was finally fulfilled, even though it was just a small band, you still held it near your chest in admiration.

You thanked him and was about to get out to not bother them further, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm gently and handed you something. You tilted your head in confusion but you stopped your tracks anyways to take it along with your pen.

There it was. His initials and his phone number.

You could barely handle your shock and stared at him dumbfounded, he smiled, "you're our first ever fan. It'd be sad not to acknowledge you, isn't it not?" He said while patting your back while you were still in shock, and he can't help but laugh a little at your expression.

"Get safe at home, okay kid?"

After that interaction, you didn't waste any time to spend time with him— with all the band members. You literally couldn't contain your excitement and admiration when you literally got noticed and got the privilege to see them perform behind the stage, and to hear their unreleased songs.

You got close to the band pretty fast; with your energetic and easy going nature, it's not that hard for you.

You always found time to spend time with them and learn about them and their other interests than make music. Yes even two time. They're actually chill and nice once you get to know about them; You found out a lot of things about them, like how Noob crashes out on horror games, how Elliot was actually a part time pizza worker, and how Builderman was actually a half Filipino.

Slowly, you found yourself as their friend than their first ever fan— and yes, they found out that you're actually their first ever fan, the fan that stuck around, the fan that refuse to give up on them.

They loved your stubbornness, your easy going nature, and you in general.

Especially Builderman.

At first, Builderman just had a fascination about you because you were literally their most loyal fan, and also friend. But slowly it turned into something more than that.

Then he noticed the littlest things about you; about how you would bag stickers to stick them on their instruments, at how you would scrunched your nose when your annoyed at something, and how you would tilt your head a little when you're curious or confused about something.

Then all of a sudden he fell, and he fell for you hard.

So hard that he made songs about you, or inspired about you— all of which were in Filipino to make it not suspicious. At how he switched your nickname specifically to "mahal" (love) instead of the usual "kid" and at how he would linger in your hugs.

Until finally, he would sometimes switch language to say something that he didn't want you to hear; like confessions, talking about how beautiful you are, and sometimes even the littlest things he noticed about you.

So you were naturally suspicious about what he was saying. So you asked Shedletsky for help, knowing he was the only one that Builderman taught bits and pieces about his language.

...

"C'mon Shedletsky" you whined as you shook him back and forth, he just smirked at you like he just successfully rage baited you. "Just tell me what he's saying"

He shook his head in response with a smile— oh he knew what builderman was saying, although just bits and pieces, it doesn't take a genius what he's saying. And who was he to ruin the surprise? To ruin the fun he had listening to him basically confess to you, while you were oblivious to it.

"Nahhh I think I'm more content not helping you thanks" he said smugly, this just annoyed you further and shook him more violently this time. "You fucking asshole"

But as fun as you were to tease, he wanted to have an ounce of guilt and give you a little bit of help. "Y'know you could just install a live translator in your phone right?" You stopped shaking him and stared at him like he held all the answers of the world. "OH MY GOSH YOU'RE RIGHT!— thanks Shed!" You joyfully shouted and bolted out, finally you had a solution.

Meanwhile Shedletsky smirked while trying to hold his laughter, "oh my god this is going to be fun"

Today, was an especially special day— well, for you atleast; because you'll finally know what your friend is saying in his language, so you planned this out strategically, and this has to work, or else you wouldn't catch a wiff of what he's saying.

You dressed up in your most simplest but also kind of cute outfit you could construct. And headed to where Builderman would usually be; his garage.

The door creeked open as you went in his garage; and there he was, tuning his electric guitar with his usual unnerving silence and concentration, at first he didn't notice you, too engrossed. But when you sat next to him, he fully turned his attention to you.

"Oh? —" he said your name in a confused tone, "what are you doing here?" He asked, you just rolled you eyes "c'mon build, y'know how I show up to houses unannounced to hang out" you said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world— and if you're them, it was.

He smiled, yeah he knew that, "yeah yeah, I know that, I just didn't expect you to hang out with me"

You shook your head "as if, you're my friend too dumbass" you said while punching his side gently as a joke, he didn't even flinch and only chuckled.

Then time seemed to stay still as you guys shared a comfortable silence; you were looking around at his room boredly, while he stared at you with those love sick eyes.

"Ang gandang-ganda mo talaga, mahal"

And god did you wish you stayed curious in that moment, you wished you didn't take Shedletsky's advice and just stayed curious, and most of all, you wished you didn't put the love translator in full blown speaker.

"You're so beautiful my love"

You snapped your attention at your phone and fumbled to reach it out your pockets, your face was burning bright red and your chest was banging against your rib cage, and you wished he didn't hear it, didn't hear the translation, didn't hear how much his words affected you.

But alas, fate had a twisted way of showing up in the wrong times.

"Oh?"

He asked confused, and even though he looked calm on the outside, his heart was racing a damn track race, his ears was turning red, and all he could think of was why does she have a translator on?

"Ah— ah heh, uhm... It's not what it sounds like I swear" you fumbled through your flusteredness, struggling to find words. And damn, if he didn't look so good, you would've chocked him.

"You have a translator installed?" He asked while scooting closer to you, his curiousness hiding his intent of making you more flustered, because damn you for making him into a mindless love consumed zombie.

"EKK!— uhm— hah! W-what no—... It's just my uhm.. Music! Yeah! Music" you said while shuffling back, you clearly saw how he was trying to get close to you, and you wished you could— you wished you could battle your flusteredness and face your fear and lean in closer to him. But no, you can't, and curse the world for making your brain to mush over this!

"Mhm, right, a weird AI voice that coincidentally played after I said something in my native language" he said with a faded smirk, all while he was getting close, and closer to you. And unfortunately, you can't back up any longer cause there's a wall behind you.

"Mahal ko, hindi mo matatago sa akin yan" he chuckled, then finally, he caged you in his arms, and all you could think off was how close he is that you could practically smell his signature, intoxicating, Cologne.

Then ping!

"My love, you can't hide that from me"

Embarrassment seeped through your skin; you could feel your body starting to sweat from your burning heat, you could feel and hear your heartbeat, and you could most definitely, hear your raging thoughts about him. And God did you wish to disappear right then and there.

Then his confident demeanor snapped when he realized that you truly did have a translator and it wasn't what you claimed to be. He smiled gently. "Finally... I can finally say my confession to you freely"

You snapped your attention to him— which, before was looking anywhere but at him, but now? He had your full attention.

"Wh— what do you mean?"

You managed to say, and he looked at you, really looked at you with those same loving eyes he has been, but today, there was no hiding from it anymore, so he showed you how much he did love you.

"Anak ng langit... alam mo ba kung gaano kalalim ang pagmamahal ko sa'yo? Nararamdaman mo ba kung paano mo ako binabago at pinapangibabawan sa bawat araw?"

This time, the translator was delayed, and you two shared a comfortable silence, none of you spoke, but you could practically hear how intimate that was. Then finally, what you dreaded and hoped for finally came though.

"oh my god, do you realize how much I truly love you? Do you realize how you affect me on a daily basis?"

He then leaned in close to your ears.

"Mahal ko, nababaliw na ako sa ka-tangahan mo, akala ko alam mo na mahal kita"

He said in a low raspy tone that you didn't even know he could do. And damn you wanted to restrain him right then and there. But you just gulped down the saliva that collected in your mouth that you didn't even know you held.

"My love, I'm going crazy at your obliviousness, I thought I already made it clear that I loved you?"

Your brain officially turned to mush, it cannot be turned back to a proper brain anymore.

A/n: I don't know what I'm doing 😀 but idc cause I was running on those Elliot gooning drug that keeps me pumping of these fuckass ideas that keeps popping up on my brain cause I'm CRAZY single ANYWAYS 😋 I hope you guys have a GOOD feast on this

[cobra-wives]

oh my god this show is sooo fucking stupid. why do we have to devote an entire montage (or three) in season 5 to johnny babyproofing his apartment when in season six he LITERALLY ENDS UP GOING HOUSE HUNTING FOR THE FAMILY. HUH.

[amaranthinespirit]

Can you please do one with ghost about period comfort 🙏🏻 it might get me through mine 🫶🏻

how simon riley takes care of you on your period

simon was no stranger to your period. in fact, it was honestly kind of scary how prepared he could be sometimes, but nonetheless, it was greatly appreciated.

if you weren't living together, he'd keep a stock for when you'd the night and forgot your own, or a stash full of unhealthy, junk food for you to sulk with in his bed. he wouldn't get mad at you this time for getting crumbs on his sheets.

if you were living together, it's pretty much the same story. you would never have to ask for him to buy you certain things because they were all already bought. like I said, prepared as all hell.

he kept medicine for your pesky cramps, on top of hot water bottles at the ready, or a heating pad, or maybe you were fancying one of those microwavable stuffed animals he was secretly jealous of? either way, he had everything you need.

including affection, practically glued to your back, it was almost annoying. his hands glued to your achy tummy, rubbing soothing circles with his unusually warm hands, his calloused fingers working the muscles under your skin. you nearly melted to a puddle under his touch, basically stumbling back into his touch.

he only chuckled lowly, ushering you to the couch to continue this with a movie and proper cuddles, and maybe use his head instead of an actual heating pad? it's heaven.

[shy-writer-999]

Subby Ace + aphrodisiacs: your top turned bottom!

Summary: Poor Ace has gotten into something with sex pollen in it. He's a mess and you're the only person who can help him. There's something delightful about seeing your very dominant boyfriend reduced to begging, whining, and even crying for a crumb of your pleasure. CW: straight up SMUT. very very pathetic needy filthy whiny ace. afab reader w/gendered language ('princess'); sex, edging, masturbation, blow job, hand job, dacryphilia, overstimulation, you name it. countless orgasms from ace, use of 'good boy' and 'pretty boy.' minors do not interact - nsfw content!

Ace is so dramatic and sensitive in bed. It gets worse when he goes on an outing by himself, and just so happens to get exposed to some form of sex pollen. He staggers back to the ship and comes straight to you.

He just won’t stop cumming. He can’t stop cumming.

His face is twisted up in anguish and he’s frowning, genuinely so miserable you think he’s about to cry.

“Baby, please help me, I’m going crazy.”

His erection looks bigger than usual—you didn’t think that was possible, and for a split second you’re worried that it won’t fit at all. But of course it will. It has fit countless times before.

“I need you. I’m begging you, sweetheart, please.” He frowns and does puppy dog eyes at you. Your heart melts, but you have to set him straight.

“Ace,” you tut. “You don’t ever need to beg for me.”

“Can I, though?” He smiles back, and it looks like a bit of a grimace.

“I’ll allow it. But you have to do what I say, okay?”

Ace nods. “Of course.” He’s thrilled at the idea of you being in control.

You sit down on the bed next to him and rest a hand on his thigh. He flinches.

“Fuck.” You can see his cock jump through the fabric of his underwear.

A simple hand on his skin like this is enough to make him squirm? It’s going to be a fun night. He looks pathetic and miserable right now. His brows are bent at the middle and he’s doing the cutest, saddest little pout you’ve ever seen.

“Touch me more, beautiful,” he murmurs and closes his eyes, mouth hanging open in concentration. His mind is fixated how your cool skin feels against his, how soft your hand is, how close you are to his throbbing hard on.

Your fingers wander over his skin, conjuring goosebumps and shudders, eliciting whimpering sounds from Ace’s pretty lips. The whimpers quickly turn into muted sounds of pleasure.

Precum seeps through the fabric of his underwear and you pity him, reaching your fingers upwards to pull the waistband down. When his cock springs out, sure enough, it’s bigger than usual, a fact which is both troubling and tantalizing.

The tip of his long shaft is red, inflamed, and defined. It glistens in the light from the dim lamp in the corner of his cabin, highlighting the precum that smears his head and continues to seep out—it’s a ridiculous amount of precum. You’ve never seen this much before.

You take a moment to admire him. Your eyes wander from his erection to his defined abs and dark, thin happy trail. Your eyes meet his. His pupils are huge and there’s a visible sheen of sweat on his forehead that mats down the hair around his temples.

Ace is trying not to be impatient, but it’s hard because his body is screaming for attention.

“Please, princess. Use me. Do anything you want to me.” His voice comes out as a whisper, tinted in reverence, and bathed in lust.

When you hum in reply, you stand up, slipping off your underwear and bra. He scoots back onto the pillows and his thighs widen while you get on top of him. Your lower yourself down to sit on top of his erection. You don’t fuck him yet, though. You just lay his shaft flat on your core and stay there for a second.

Some teasing couldn’t hurt. So, you slowly start to roll your hips, rubbing yourself on Ace’s wet shaft. It’s starting to get you worked up, too, and before you know it, you’re soaking wet.

Gasp after gasp tumbles out of his mouth and no less than thirty seconds later, he starts to seize up below you, cumming on his lower abdomen. His breaths are shallow and ragged, and he’s lying there panting.

“Don’t stop,” he chokes out, again begging for something he knows he’ll get if he only waits patiently. “Please don’t stop.”

“Poor thing.” You lean down and kiss him. Even the mere feeling of your lips on his makes him let out the softest groan. He feels like his whole body is on fire, but it’s in a way he’s never felt before, different from the logia fire he’s so accustomed to.

His kisses quickly turn greedy and sloppy, and every drag of your aching core over his cock makes him let out repressed puffs of air in your mouth. Soon, he’s moaning straight into your mouth.

God, he’s so worked up it’s starting to be more fun than you imagined.

Lining up his sticky wet tip with your entrance, you finally start to sink down onto his cock, going deliberately slow so he doesn’t cum again (yet). But when he bottoms out, his hips buck up inadvertently, hitting your gooey hot spot inside.

“F-fuck, fuck,” Ace groans again. “Feels, ah, feels so good.”

He’s practically keening at this point, back almost arching off the bed, fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

You start to ride him slowly. Whatever way feels best. Sometimes you pull yourself up his shaft so only the tip is inside and plunge it back in, other times you keep him inside of you and grind your hips back and forth. One moment, you brace your hands on his chest for more leverage; the next moment, you lean in and kiss his neck, leaving love bites in a trail from his neck to his shoulder. The contact draws out a body-wracking moan from the dark-haired man beneath you—the sounds he’s making are delicious.

He cums aggressively again, hips jerking upwards. Each press of his cock up hits your g-spot and when he feels your body shift in response it drives him crazier.

Ace’s fingers are pulling you downwards, pushing himself deeper inside of you.

“Need more,” he chokes out.

When your legs start to burn, he does all the work for you. Muscly, rough hands come under your thighs, moving you effortlessly up and down until you’re the one cumming, writhing in ecstasy on top of him.

But Ace still doesn’t want to stop. “Keep going, please.”

He has the habit of saying please in bed. It’s endearing. When he asks so nicely, it’s hard to say no.

So, your hips move more. And more. And more. Until they’re numb and he’s fucking you stupid.

You’ve collapsed on top of him now, mewling in his neck from each thrust. “C’mon baby, give me another.” You murmur in his ear, voice seductive and honeyed. It’s all he needs to hear before he literally cums on command.

He’s usually an animal in bed. Buy boy, whatever sex pollen or aphrodisiac he ran into today is doing a number on him. You, very obviously, have no issue with it.

Feral sounds escape his lips while Ace pumps more of his hot seed inside. It’s seeping out of you, creeping down the sides of his body, and saturating the fabric of the bedspread below him. It’s going to leave a massive, milky-white stain. And he isn’t done yet.

“Keep going,” he looks absolutely pathetic. “Please, please, I—I’m going crazy.” He can barely get the words out, so pussydrunk and out of it that he’s on the verge of drooling.

You smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Missionary. But you’re going to go nice and slow, okay?”

Ace nods vigorously in return. He repositions. One of his warm hands is on your waist now, while the other gropes upwards to massage and caress your chest.

He takes his time, just like you told him. From this angle, you can see his face more—and it’s glistening, evidently he’s been crying. He’s been crying because of how good it feels. Something about the idea is wildly erotic. He wants pleasure so badly that he’s begging and crying over it, literal tears from those pretty brown eyes.

Every orgasm feels better than the last. He shoots more seed inside of you again, quickly, almost immediately upon entering you. But there’s a rebound period before his second orgasm where you decide to be a bit cruel.

“Slower, Ace.”

He complies, hips shaking, moving centimeters at a time. There’s so much cum inside of you that it’s almost sloshing out, squelching so loud you’re thankful no one is around to hear. His eyes are glued to where the cum seeps out of you, drinking up the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you with every pass.

Gravelly, obscene groans tumble out from him every second—it’s almost a constant stream.

“Wanna go faster,” he rasps, eyes snapping up to yours. You see more tears gathering on his lash line.

“Not yet, baby. Be a good boy and wait for it, okay?”

When he hears you call him that—good boy—a strangled sounding gasp erupts from his lips and his hips shudder. “Fuuuuhhhccckkk.”

Desperate, heaving breaths accompany his extreme efforts. He’s trying not to cum, trying not to buck and rut haphazardly and mindlessly into your cunt like some animal in heat.

A couple more moments of agonizing slowness pass. When you’ve decided he’s behaved, and when you’re similarly desperate enough, you give him the go ahead.

“Faster.”

His hips snap into action and he’s cumming again within a couple seconds. It’s amazing that he still has cum to give, that he’s not completely shooting blanks at this point, that he hasn’t drained his balls completely yet. But, surely, he’ll get there.

“Mmmpppphhhh,” he moans, deafeningly loud. “Ah, ah, fuck, f-feels so good, fuck.”

“Keep going, ‘m close,” you keen his name and his hips pick up the pace. Each time his cock pushes on your sweet spot it makes you see stars. You’re getting close and he’s getting overstimulated.

When you cum again the pleasure is white-hot and euphoric, buzzing every nerve in your body. Ace does the same—he’s too sensitive, can’t handle the feeling of your walls squeezing and milking him for long before he’s careening into his own wave of euphoria.

He slows down and starts to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. He’s sweaty and his body is hot. Looks like the sex pollen is making his devil fruit powers a bit harder to control.

“You want some more, handsome?” You ask, and he nods eagerly. When you move from underneath him, you ask him to lay on his back. Rifling through a bedside drawer, you bring out your vibrator. You usually keep it in his cabin because that’s where you get the most use out of it. But today, instead of using it on yourself, you’re going to try something new.

While you’re grabbing the toy, Ace reaches a hand down to start touching himself but you tell him to knock it off.

“You need to sit there and be good for me. Don’t touch yourself and don’t cum unless I say so, okay?”

When he hears your stern tone, Ace puts his hands behind his head, and peers down to see what happens next. It’s hard for him to stay still, but he tries his very best.

Situating yourself between his thick thighs, you turn the vibrator on and bring it to the head of Ace’s cock. He almost immediately starts to seize up. He’s going to cum again. But where would the fun be if you just let him?

You take the vibrator away and frown. “Do I need to tell you again? Don’t cum until I say so, sweetheart.”

He pouts and nods. You bring the vibrator back and put it on the lowest setting setting. He’s hardly holding on as is, but when you turn the vibrator’s speed up, he starts to writhe in pleasure.

“’m close,” he whines, biting his lip.

You take the vibrator off again, met with a strangled sounding cry of frustration from Ace. He takes a few minutes to cool back down until he’s ready for you to start again.

Twenty, no, thirty minutes pass like this until he’s on the verge of tears again. When you finally let him have it, he asks so nicely. It’s not like he hasn’t been asking nicely before, but this time his voice cracks and you can see the tears in his lash line.

“C-can I please, please cum?” He’s being so sweet and needy. It’s crazy to think this is the strong, courageous man who has protected you countless times. Reduced to a sniveling mess, asking for another orgasm.

You say yes. He’s being so polite, so why not?

After this orgasm, he’s almost ready to tap out. He can use his safe word, obviously but… he really doesn’t want to. It feels too good. He’ll keep going for as long as he physically can.

“You still have another couple to give me, right? Don’t you want to be good for me and keep going?” You say, looking up from between his thighs. The tip of his cock is inflamed from the relentless vibrating, and his abdomen is coated in a sheen of his own cum. He’s at the point where he doesn’t care about anything, fucked-out with his mind empty.

When he nods his head mindlessly, you take your turn. You sink down on his cock (again) and ride him for as long as it takes you to orgasm. For the record, it doesn’t take long, but Ace has lost track of time.

He’s being louder than usual. Every few seconds he lets out some form of a whine, a whimper, a “fuck,” a “please,” or a “’s too much.” His cheeks are bright red, accentuating those cute freckles, and his eyes are half-lidded. He’s so handsome it makes your stomach flip. He’s falling apart with minimal effort, and he’s all hands, too. He grabs handfuls of the plush skin of your hips and ass, kneading and getting himself more wound up.

Ace cums once while you’re working up to your own orgasm, then again when you’re cumming on his cock, and then a third time, when you pull yourself off his length and wrap a hand around his shaft. Every time he cums, you encourage and praise him. It drives him crazier.

“There’s a good boy,” you say. “Keep going for me. Don’t stop.”

You talk dirty to him while you give him one very long hand job. He eats it up, loves the idea of you speaking filth to nobody but him. Before you started seeing each other, he couldn’t imagine you had this sort of mouth on you—not in his wildest dreams. It’s his delight every time you’re in bed that you feel comfortable enough with him to talk like this.

“You’re just too sweet I can’t stop Ace,” your voice oozes in desire. “And you’re being so good for me.”

“’s good?” He slurs, holding your eye contact as much as he can manage.

“Mmmhm. Tell me what it feels like. Use your words, okay?”

His eyes flutter and his voice comes out as a whisper. “So good. F-feels so fucking good.”

You coo in his ear and bite his earlobe softly. “Don’t I always make you feel so good?” He nods in a silent reply, rocking his hips up to fuck himself with your fist.

As you milk more cum from him, he reaches a hand up—you initially think he’s going for your chest, but his hand falls on your cheek and he attempts to pull you into a kiss. He’s a bit weak in his current state, so you oblige him by leaning in.

It’s just gut-wrenchingly cute of him to be fucked dumb like this and still want to get kisses from you. He’s just thanking his lucky stars that you, of all people, is who he ended up with.

While you explore his mouth with your tongue, and cup his face with your free hand, his heart feels like it’s going to burst.

He cums again. The fact that he still has cum to give is preposterous in itself. You’ve lost track of time at this point, too.

You make him eat you out and he’s (understandingly) sloppy with it. His hot mouth feels just right on your core, and he pays just enough attention to your clit. Feeling you pull on his hair makes him feel more aroused than he thought possible.

So, he’s ready to fuck you again. He goes for another round in missionary, then puts you into a mating press. Afterwards, he gets tuckered out and you figure that he has one good one left in him, or, rather, he probably has more to give but he really should give it a rest after that. It would be way too cruel to make him keep going after this one, right? You’ll decide the answer to this question after he cums for you again.

“One more, Ace,” you pet his ruffled up hair and grace him with kisses. “You can do that for me, can’t you, pretty boy?”

He nods obediently.

“There you go,” you purr and start to trace your lips down his abdomen, licking up a small portion of the very large mess he’s made on himself.

His eyes widen as he realizes he’s about to get one of his very favorite things—a blowjob from none other than yourself.

He lifts his head up and watches in awe as you lick a long stripe up his shaft and then take him whole, hollowing your cheeks before you start to suck him off. You’re gentle at first, until he starts moaning louder, then you figure fuck it, he can cum. You let him off easy this time. He’s just been so good for you.

When you look up from your position between his legs, you make eye contact, nod, and then hum. It sends him over the edge. Ace’s fingers snake into your hair and he holds your head down as he cums down your throat.

“C-cumming, ‘m cumming, ah, fuck, fuhhhcckkk that feels good,” his groans are harsh and loud.

He’s so sweet afterwards that it’s heart melting. You know that he must be tired, but he doesn’t act the part. Not when you’ve been so good to him, when you’ve praised him, taken your time with him, coddled and kissed him. It almost makes you feel guilty how affectionate he is.

Pulling into you a long, tender kiss, he so sweetly says, “fuck, you’re perfect. I can’t believe someone like me gets to be with someone like you.”

You cup his cheeks and tell him to cut it out. Of course someone like him gets to be with someone like you. He’s perfect, after all. You cuddle him in bed for a while before he, again, very politely, asks if you’d help clean him up. He’s positively covered in cum and doesn’t want to stain anything else more than he already has. Seems like this is another pair of bedsheets that can be considered properly soiled. Not like that will stop you from doing the same thing in the future.

Now, where did he come across that sex pollen again?

this style of writing for me (when i just write straight up smut with no plot) is akin to a sort of slop. i am the lunch lady handing out scoops of questionable and most likely unsatisfying mush BUT sometimes on a good day it is delicious... i can only hope the slop today did not disappoint... >_> cant say this one is my absolute fave so apologies if it's trash T-T but i love the idea of him being so whiny like this..!!

check out my masterlist and also the best piece i've written on ace so far, if you liked this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

taglist @eggrollforyou

[nottswitch]

— if you’ve been nice, you get…

────────────────── 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫. ──

summary: your boyfriend’s return from one of the meetings with his father is always a gamble, a shot it the dark. this time, he simply needs you close.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

cw: 18+ smut, established relationship, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, cockwarming, praise, cursing

wc: 1.8k

a/n: soft smut with mattheo always has a place in my heart <3 enjoy!

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; mattheo m.list ; kinkmas 2024

────────────────────────

A knock on the door of your dorm in the middle of the night was not a surprise – ever since Mattheo left a few hours ago, you’d been waiting, waiting and waiting. He did tell you to get some sleep, as usual, and as usual, you didn’t listen; not that you deliberately tried to go against him, you just couldn’t sleep at all. You never could – not when he was possibly being hurt by his maniac of a father while you were comfortable in a warm but very lonely bed. So, when a quiet thump echoed through the room from the other side of the door, you felt your heart fluttering and dropping to your stomach at the same time.

Mattheo was back. But you didn’t know if he was back in one piece.

You nearly bolted out of the bed, hurrying to open the door – the last thing you wanted was making Mattheo wait. As soon as you turned the handle, he stumbled into the room, his arms wrapping tightly around you. You could almost feel the anxiety radiating off him, evident in the slight tremble of his hands caressing your back, in the shaky exhales fanning the crook of your neck, in the way his foot punched the door close behind him with way more force than needed.

“Baby,” you murmured, your own arms sliding up to embrace him as well. You felt up his back and sides, unconsciously searching for any signs of wounds or bruises, your ears tuned to hear the faintest hiss that could potentially escape his mouth. When you, thankfully, didn’t hear anything like that, you allowed yourself to pull away a bit, searching his face with a relieved yet still worried look in your eyes. “How–”

Mattheo didn’t let you finish, crashing your lips together in a kiss filled with nothing but pure desperation, as if he was trying to reassure himself that you were real, that you were physically there, in front of him, in his arms. You closed your eyes, letting him feel your presence and enjoying his, your hands soothingly moving up and down his back and shoulders. His right hand cupped your cheek as the kiss started losing its intensity, the movements of his lips mellowing out into tenderness.

“Need you close, princess. Please,” Mattheo whispered into your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after. You didn’t need words to understand him at the moment, but his pleading voice painfully tugged at your heartstrings, and you immediately understood everything he was trying to say.

“You have me, baby. I promise,” you whispered back, keeping the tremble out of your voice as best as you possibly could. Mattheo couldn’t do that, letting out a shaky breath through his parted lips. His hands moved down your body, a firm touch remembering each and every single inch of it, before he lifted you up, squeezing the back of your thighs. He carried you towards the bed, his steps urgent yet soft at the same time, gently lowering you onto the sheets.

His fingers hooked under the edge of your sleeping shirt, pulling it up to bare your skin – the contact Mattheo craved like a starved man would crave a crumb of bread after years of famine. His lips moved from yours down your jawline, latching onto your neck in a second, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweetness of it. He wasn’t leaving marks this time, like he usually did, as if he didn’t have enough strength to do it – he simply needed to know that your skin was still there, available for him to taste, that no one had taken away the privilege of being this close to you yet. His hands caressed your stomach, your waist, your chest, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts as if it was the last time he would be able to touch them. He was constantly afraid that it would be, especially right now, which made him savour each moment spent doing what he loved most in this world.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered, lavishing your collarbones with wet, sloppy kisses. His eyes flicked up to your face for a moment, and you saw desperation still written all over his features, manifesting in the time he took to make sure not a single millimeter of you remained unloved. “The sweetest little thing in this entire fucking world.”

The trail he left all over your body, down your torso, to the waistband of your pajama pants made you shiver from anticipation. You wanted him in more ways than one, but you knew that he needed to feel all of you, which made you hold back on begging him to take you already. Although you couldn’t suppress the moans and whines that left your lips in a delightful string, the sound being angel’s music to Mattheo’s ears. He needed to hear you, to have proof that he was the one making you feel good, giving you pleasure – the only state he wanted to see you in that moment, lost in him and his touch.

Your pants were pulled down and discarded in a gentle yet somewhat hurried manner, Mattheo’s lips instantly attaching to your inner thighs. He kissed his way up, nuzzling his nose into your already dripping pussy before diving in. He had no intention to tease you right now, his aching heart screaming for him to be buried between your legs, the place he was sure he belonged in; and you were letting him, your needy sighs and pretty moans filling the quietness of the dimly lit dorm. It was all he asked for, and he got even more than that – your fingers tangled into his curls, your nails lightly scratching his head, making him moan right into you. Mattheo felt your wetness dripping down his chin and onto the silky sheets, but it didn’t matter – nothing mattered other than being completely and utterly consumed by you.

His fingers eagerly slipped into your entrance, curling and pressing into the spot he knew made you moan louder, relishing the feeling of your walls squeezing him – a sign that you were close, close to coming undone because of him.

“Need you to cum for me, sweet girl,” he murmured against your folds, his voice muffled, desperate, wanting. He felt a burning need to make you his, even though you already were, in every sense of the word – but he needed to reaffirm that.

“God, Matty, I-” Your words died down, turning into a whimper when he started pumping his fingers faster, his tongue swirling around your throbbing clit. Your release was accompanied by a tug at his hair, which nearly made him sob – he lapped everything up, slurping sounds riling you up all over again.

The path of Mattheo’s lips up your body, straight to your lips, was marked by your juices trickling out of the corners of his mouth that he made no effort to wipe away. You tasted yourself when he kissed you once more, one of your hands wrapping around his shoulders to pull him close. Mattheo pulled away the tiniest bit, just enough to take off his sweatshirt and pull down his jeans and boxers, tightly pressing against your right after. The skin-to-skin burned into both of you, your body still warm from lying in bed before he came, and his being the flaming heater it usually was.

“Please, love,” he muttered, his voice hoarse after everything he was doing just a minute ago. You felt his cock pressing between your thighs, the slight overstimulation of your sensitive pussy making them clench around his hips and lift up, searching for the friction you never had enough of. “I need you so bad.” His voice cracked at the last word as he felt your heat against him, his length twitching at the contact.

“You have me,” you whispered, reassuring him once again that you were his, and he could get what he so fiercely wanted. He took in a sharp breath as you shifted beneath him again, urging him to finally take you – and he was more than willing to show you how important you were to him, how he’d give you everything he had and then some.

Mattheo’s cock slid inside of you in a slow and gentle way, filling you up inch by inch until his crotch was firmly pressed against you. You gasped, pulling him down for another kiss, and he easily obliged, his lips moving against yours in a gentle but eager way. He started thrusting his hips back and forth, your walls squeezing him in a way that made him groan into your mouth, the satisfaction of being buried in you making its way to his brain and heart.

“Love you so fucking much, baby,” he nearly whimpered out, the air growing hot between your faces as both of you panted, the pleasure enveloping you in a warm, tingly blanket. “I can’t lose you. Ever. You hear me, sweet thing?”

“You won’t– Ah, fuck…! You won’t lose me,” you replied in an equally wanton voice, your words breaking up as the tip of his cock hit the spots that sent your mind into the kind of overdrive that chased all thoughts away, leaving the feeling of him, just him. Mattheo cupped your cheek, gazing at you with that intense affection that only he was capable of, his deeply brown eyes vulnerable, unable, unwilling to hide the entirety of his emotions, the love he felt just for you.

“Never letting you go, baby. Never in my goddamn life.”

You came together, the moment a manifestation of the connection you shared, the climax bringing you closer than ever, which was barely possible. Mattheo lowered himself onto the bed next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you to him, his hands mindlessly tracing circles on your back. You felt his cock softening inside of you, but he made no effort to pull out, drops of his release seeping out and onto your inner thighs.

“Can I stay inside? Please?” he asked, his eyes pleading as he looked at you, searching your face for, hopefully, an agreement. “I’ll wash the sheets tomorrow, just… please, love?”

You smiled, not entirely surprised by his request – it wasn’t the first time he needed to be as close to you as possible, which meant being inside of you in the most literal sense.

“Of course, baby,” you replied, giving him a small kiss on the lips. How could you deny him anything when he was looking at you like that?

Mattheo let out a satisfied hum and snuggled up to you, burying his face in your hair. As you dozed off, he felt his anxiety melting away just a bit – it never truly left, but at least in that moment, he could feel your warm body next to him and know that he got to love you and keep you.

[lifeisbutadream444]

Playing Games

Aaron Pierre x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: A passionate yet complicated friends-with-benefits arrangement unravels as you finally confront Aaron about his inability to commit.

Warnings: 18+, smut, edging, overstimulation, p in v, bdsm themes

A/N: First thing I've ever posted, mostly porn with a crumb of plot.

The hotel suite is dimly lit, city lights flickering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Aaron lies beside you, bare-chested, arm draped lazily across his forehead, his breathing steady but not quite asleep.

"You good?" His voice is rough, sleep-laced, breaking the silence.

You hesitate. "Yeah."

He turns his head, studying you. "Liar."

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you're about to say. " I don't think we should do this anymore."

Aaron's brow furrows slightly at your words, his striking eyes searching your face. He props himself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping dangerously low on his hips.

"Hey now, what's all this about?" His deep voice is soft, almost concerned, but there's an undercurrent of tension. 

"Talk to me, sweetheart." He reaches out, fingers brushing along your arm, touch feather-light. It's a gesture meant to soothe, but you sense the calculation behind it. Aaron is always aware, always assessing.

"I thought we had something good going here. No strings, no bullshit." A slow smirk curves his full lips. "Or am I mistaken?"

You sigh. "I need to focus on finding someone to build an actual future with Aaron. We’ve been doing this for a long time. I obviously love fucking you, but watching you constantly flirt with other women at every event, seeing them leave your house at 3:00 am on TMZ, it gets old after a while."

Aaron's hand stills on your arm, his expression shifting - surprise, then a flash of something harder to read. He sits up fully, running a hand over his face. "Shit..." He sighs, the sound heavy in the quiet room. "I didn't realize it was bothering you that much. I've always been honest about everything."

His gaze finds yours, intense and searching. "But I get it. You're looking for more than just a good time these days."

He reaches for you, cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. "I care about you, you know. More than just as a friend with benefits or whatever we are. But I'm not sure I'm built for that whole 'forever' thing yet."

"I understand Aaron, I really do." You sit up too, pulling the sheet around yourself like armor. Your heart aches but you force yourself to hold his gaze steadily.

"I want to respect your boundaries and your current lifestyle. But I also need to respect my own needs and desires. And right now, those are leading me in a different direction."

Aaron's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he listens to your words. When you finish speaking, he's silent for a long moment, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, slowly, he shakes his head.

He looms over you, naked and powerful, muscles coiled with tension. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, touch almost tender despite the intensity smoldering in his eyes. "We can’t end things like this. Let me show you how good we can be together, outside the bedroom too."

You pull back slightly, meeting his intense gaze steadily, your own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Aaron, please... don't make this harder than it already is.” Your voice wavers slightly but you push on. "I appreciate everything you're saying, I do. But I can't keep settling for less than what I truly want and need."

I place my hand over his on my hip, squeezing gently. "We have an incredible physical connection, yes. But I need more. Someone who chooses me completely and exclusively."

A single tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you continue. "As much as it hurts, I have to accept that person isn't you. We’ve been doing this for long enough for you to know if I’m worth that commitment. In your eyes, I’m obviously not considering you’re still fucking other women every week."

Aaron's eyes blaze with a storm of emotions - fear, anger, desperation, and beneath it all, a flicker of something deeper, more vulnerable. As the tear traces down your cheek, his expression crumples.

"Fuck, baby, don't cry," he rasps, voice thick with feeling. His hands move to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the moisture. "You are worth it. You're worth everything." He takes a shuddering breath, clearly struggling with his next words. 

"I know I haven't shown it well, but fuck, you mean more to me than anyone else. Than all the other women combined." Aaron's forehead comes to rest against yours. "I'm scared, okay? Scared of fucking this up, of losing you completely."

You sigh, "I think that if you were really scared of losing me we would’ve progressed into something more by now. Surely you didn't think I was just gonna be your fuck buddy forever, right?"

Aaron pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that steals your breath. "You're right. I should have done something sooner." He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. 

"But I'm done being afraid. Done letting my own bullshit fears push away the person who matters most. Losing you is a lot scarier." One hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking softly as he continues.

"Baby, I... I love you. Have for a while now. And I know I don't deserve you, but I'm asking anyway - give me a chance to be the man you need."

You stare at him in shock, hardly daring to breathe. Those three little words hang in the air between you, heavy with promise and possibility.

"You... you love me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, trembling with a fragile hope. "Really?"

Tears well up again, but this time they're tinged with joy rather than sorrow.

"I love you too, Aaron. So much it scares me sometimes. But I know you too well. You love women. You love attention. I feel like you’re only saying this as a last resort because you think it’s what I want to hear.”

You reluctantly make a move to get up from his bed. Aaron's eyes widen in panic as he notices your intention to leave, his grip on your shoulders tightening. 

"No, wait!" Desperation colors his deep voice. He shifts, using his body weight to gently but firmly press you back onto the mattress. His gaze bores into yours, eyes blazing with sincerity and barely restrained emotion. 

"I'm saying this because it's true, because I can't bear the thought of you walking out that door and out of my life." One hand moves to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds you close. 

"I know I have a reputation, and I can't change my past. But I want to change my future. With you."

Aaron's heart clenches painfully as he sees the tears streaming down your face, hears the hitch in your breath as you try to pull away. He knows he's caused this pain, this doubt, and the realization guts him.

"Shh, baby, please don't cry," he murmurs, voice raw with emotion. Gently but insistently, he keeps you in place, one strong arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand cups your face, thumbs wiping away the tears.

"I know I have to prove myself to you. And I will, every fucking day if that's what it takes." His eyes search yours, pleading and determined. 

"Give me a chance to show you how serious I am. Stay with me tonight, talk to me in the morning. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust, your heart."

"It's just too late Aaron,” you reply through your tears. “It kills me, but I have to go."

Aaron's expression darkens, a flash of possessiveness and desperation in his eyes as he tightens his arms around you, holding you in place on the bed. 

"No, you don't have to go anywhere," he says, his voice low and insistent. “Not like this, not when we're finally being honest with each other. I know I've fucked up, that I've made mistakes. But I'm trying to make this right, baby." His eyes bore into yours, blue-grey irises swirling with emotion. "Don’t leave, please."

Inside, your heart pounds—he’s finally refusing to let you go. But you keep up the act, teasing the edge of goodbye, waiting to see if he’ll chase you, if he’ll prove just how much he cares.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep you here, to show you that you're the only woman I want, the only one I need." His lips graze your pulse point. "Tell me you'll stay."

You whimper softly, your body betraying you as it melts into his touch despite my resolve to leave. The heat of his skin, the strength of his embrace, the desperate need in his voice - it's all so overwhelmingly tempting.

"A-Aaron..." you breathe, voice shaky. "I want to believe you, I do. But I'm scared that this is just an empty promise, that you'll go back to your old ways as soon as I give in. How do I know this is real? That you're not just saying these things to get me to stay the night?" Even as you speak, your hands come up to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat.

"It's real, baby. Every word, every feeling. I may not have said it before, but I've loved you for so long." His hand in your hair gentles, fingers combing through the strands almost reverently. 

"I know I have a lot to prove, that actions will always speak louder than words. But I'm ready to put in the work, to be the man you deserve." He pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze head-on.

You wipe tears from your face. "Please let me go, Aaron."

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he slowly releases his grip on you. His hands fall away from your body as he sits back on his heels, giving you space even as his eyes remain fixed on your face, drinking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

"If that's truly what you want, then... I won't stop you," he says quietly, voice rough with emotion. "But please know that I meant every word I said. I love you, and I'm going to prove it to you, whether you're here with me or not."

You tell yourself you have to leave. That if you don’t walk away now, he’ll never take you seriously, never realize what he stands to lose. You want him to fight for you, to prove that this is more than just convenience, more than just a game he always wins.

As you start gathering your things to leave, Aaron leaps up from the bed, his tall, muscular form blocking your path.

"Baby, wait!" he's in front of you, one hand coming up to grasp your wrist gently but imploringly. He pulls you a step closer, using his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing away the remnants of your tears.

Aaron captures your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up passion and desperation into the heated caress. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you, as his strong arms wrap around your waist to lift you effortlessly as you wrap your legs around his waist instinctually. In a few swift strides, he carries you back to the bed, laying you down on the rumpled sheets once again.

He looms over you, eyes dark with lust and determination. "I'm gonna remind you exactly why you belong with me." His hands make quick work of the clothes you managed to put back on, tossing them aside carelessly as he exposes your skin to his hungry gaze. Calloused fingertips trace the curves of your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

He settles between your thighs, pushing them apart to grant himself unrestricted access to your most intimate area. He inhales deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent before diving in, his skilled tongue delving between your folds to lap at your essence.

"Mmm," he moans against your flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. He focuses his attention on your sensitive clit, circling and flicking the bundle of nerves with practiced precision.

As your moans fill the room, he reaches for the vibrator you kept in his nightstand, turning it on to a low hum. "Let's see how many times I can make you come," he purrs wickedly, dragging the toy along your slit teasingly before pressing it firmly against your aching clit.

Aaron works you relentlessly with his mouth and the vibrator, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. Just as you teeter on the cusp of climax, he pulls back, denying you that final push.

"Not yet, baby," he murmurs, voice husky with desire. "You don't get to come until you say you’re mine. Until you promise to give us a real chance."

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts, suckling and teasing your nipples until you're writhing beneath him. His hard length throbs against your thigh, a testament to his own arousal, but he ignores it in favor of focusing solely on your pleasure... and your compliance.

"I can do this all night, sweetheart," he warns playfully, nipping at your earlobe.

You’re trembling, your body wound tighter than a bowstring, desperate for release. You look up at Aaron, his handsome face blurry through the haze of lust.

"P-please, Aaron," I whimper brokenly, hips bucking futilely against the cool air. "I can't... I need... Fuck!"

He grins wickedly, clearly reveling in the power he holds over you. "What was that, baby? I didn't quite catch what you said." He circles your clit with the vibrator again, applying just enough pressure to keep you teetering on the knife's edge of orgasm.

Aaron drinks in the sight of you, sprawled out beneath him, trembling and desperate, your face a beautiful portrait of need. He feels a surge of masculine pride, mixed with genuine tenderness, at the effect he has on you.

"That's it, sweetheart," he croons, voice a low, seductive rumble. "Just say the words. Tell me you'll stay, that you're mine, and I'll give you everything you crave."

He increases the pressure of the vibrator, holding it steady against your throbbing clit as his free hand slides down to tease your entrance. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust and challenge. "I can feel how badly you need this, how much you need me. Don't fight it anymore, baby. I’m done arguing with you.”

Aaron’s frustration mounts as you continue to resist despite your obvious desperation.

"You're so stubborn, baby girl," he growls, equal parts exasperated and aroused. "But I'm more determined than you are. I'll keep you right on this edge until you surrender to me completely."

To emphasize his point, he sucks hard on your clit, "Last chance, sweetheart," he pants against your flesh, eyes glinting with challenge and dark promise.

"Or what?" you challenge. Your body is on fire, but you’re not giving him what he wants so quickly.

Aaron's eyes flash dangerously at your defiant question, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He pulls away and flips you onto your stomach with ease.

"Oh, baby girl," he purrs darkly, "If you keep testing me like this, I might just have to punish that sweet little ass of yours."

One large hand slides down to grope your rear roughly, kneading the supple flesh. The other tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his.

You gasp and moan as he manhandles you, your body responding eagerly to his dominant touch despite your lingering resistance. The threat of punishment sends a forbidden thrill racing down your spine, even as a part of me rebels against being so thoroughly conquered.

"P-punish me?" You manage to stammer out between shaky breaths, trying to inject bravado into your voice that you don't quite feel. 

"What exactly did you have in mind, big boy?" You arch your back slightly, pressing your ass more firmly into his groping hand, torn between the desire to submit and the need to maintain some semblance of control. Your inner walls flutter weakly, still aching for the fulfillment only he can provide.

"Mmm, such a naughty girl, taunting me like this," he murmurs approvingly. "I think I'll start by turning this pretty pink ass a nice, deep red. Maybe that will get your attention..."

To punctuate his words, he delivers a firm spank to your right cheek, the sting quickly melting into warmth. His palm rubs the abused skin soothingly before repeating the action on the left side. "And if that doesn't convince you to behave..."

Aaron leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "Then I might have to tie you up, spread you wide open, and keep teasing this needy little body of yours for hours. Keep you right on the razor's edge, until you're ready to agree to anything just to cum."

His hand snakes around to your front, fingers dipping teasingly through your slick folds. "Would you like that, baby girl? Being completely at my mercy, helpless to do anything but feel?"

You shudder and moan, your body following your true desires even as your mind struggles to hold onto its reservations. The spanks send jolts of painful pleasure radiating through you, stoking the flames of your arousal.

"Ahh...f-fuck, Aaron..." you pant, your voice thick with need. "You can't...can't just...ah!" Another spank cuts off your weak protests, the sensation making your toes curl. The image he paints - of being tied up, spread out, and teased mercilessly - sends a bolt of liquid heat straight to your core. "Yes I want that." you finally admit.

Aaron smiles triumphantly as he hears the breathy admission fall from your lips, your body's reactions telling him everything he needs to know.

"That's my good girl," he praises huskily, rubbing your ass. "Admitting what you really want. And we both know what that is, don't we, sweetheart?"

True to his word, Aaron flips you on your back again and secures your wrists above your head with soft ropes, the silky material a delicious contrast to your sensitized skin. He takes a moment to admire the view - you, splayed out and vulnerable, flushed with arousal and anticipation. His eyes rake over your body hungrily, drinking in every dip and curve.

Aaron starts with feather-light touches, tracing the delicate folds of your labia with the tip of his tongue. He laves at your slit before zeroing in on your aching clit. A single, purposeful flick of his tongue against the overstimulated bud has you keening, your back arching off the bed.

"Mmm, so sensitive," he murmurs appreciatively, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. "I could make you cum just like this, couldn't I? With barely any effort at all."

To prove his point, he seals his lips around your clit and suckles gently, alternating with quick, pointed flicks of his tongue. Two fingers plunge deep into your weeping channel, curling to stroke that special spot inside you.

He varies his technique, switching between broad licks and targeted flicks, alternating suction and pressure on your clit. His fingers pump steadily, twisting and curling, finding new angles to stimulate your innermost depths.

Your thighs tremble and quake around his head as he feasts on you, the obscene sounds of your arousal filling the room. He can feel you tightening around his invading digits, your body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

Just as you teeter on the very edge again, he pulls back, denying you that final push. "Not yet, baby," he admonishes playfully, blowing cool air over your drenched folds. "You haven't agreed yet."

You writhe and moan, tears of frustration leaking from the corners of your eyes. Your body is wound so tightly, every nerve ending screaming for release, but he denies you again and again.

"Please, Aaron!" you beg, voice raw with need. "I can't.... Ahhh!" Your words dissolve into incoherent cries as he suckles particularly hard on your clit, the pleasure bordering on pain. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" You tug desperately at your bonds, craving something, anything to ground yourself. But there's no escape from the exquisite torture he's inflicting.

Aaron notices your continued resistance, even as your body screams for release. A wicked gleam enters his eye as an idea takes shape. He reaches into the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a sleek black anal plug and a small, soft-bristled brush.

"Let's see how long this stubborn streak of yours lasts, baby girl," he purrs, voice dripping with dark promise. Without warning, he presses the tapered tip of the small plug against your tightly furled rosebud, applying gentle but insistent pressure.

The cool metal contrasts deliciously with the scorching heat of your skin as he slowly works the toy deeper, pausing to let you adjust. Once seated fully, he gives a subtle wiggle, sending sparks of new sensation radiating through your core.

You gasp as the foreign object invades your ass, the stretch and fullness sending shockwaves of sensation through her body. You feel impossibly empty and aching, yet stuffed so deliciously full at the same time. The anal plug shifts with every movement, keeping you hyperaware and on edge.

"Aaahh! Aaron!" you cry out, back arching off the bed as he wiggles the toy teasingly. Tears of overwhelming stimulation prick at the corners of her eyes. "It's too much, I can't-" But your protests are cut short as he dives back between your thighs, that wicked tongue of his lashing at your swollen, throbbing clit again. The addition of the anal plug seems to heighten every touch exponentially.

He picks up the small, soft-bristled brush, the fluffy head barely an inch wide. Teasingly, he runs the delicate bristles along your slit, catching on your engorged clit with each pass. The light, tickling sensation is maddening, keeping you poised on the knife's edge of orgasm without allowing you to topple over.

Every brush of the soft bristles against your aching clit sends lightning bolts of pleasure zinging up your spine. Combined with the constant pressure and stretch of the anal plug, you feel like you might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

"P-please, Aaron," you whimper brokenly, voice hoarse from crying out. "I can't... I need... Fuck, I need to cum!" Tears stream freely down your face now, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations consuming her.

"Shhh, I know, sweetheart," he croons, voice low and soothing despite the wicked glint in his eyes. "I can see how much you need it. How close you are. But you know what you have to do to earn that release."

He leans in, hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "Tell me you're mine, baby. Give yourself to me completely, and I'll let you cum harder than you ever have before. Keep fighting it, and I'll leave you like this all night."

Aaron watches your anguished pleas with a mixture of dark satisfaction and growing impatience, shocked that you haven’t used your safe word yet. He can see the war raging within you - the desperate need for completion battling against your stubborn refusal to surrender completely. It's a delicious sight, but he's tired of these games.

"Enough," he says sharply, voice brooking no argument. In one swift motion, he flips you onto your stomach, the sudden change in position making the plug shift inside you deliciously. He drapes himself over your back, one large hand splaying across your shoulder blades to pin you down. His other hand snakes around to your front, fingers delving between your legs to circle your clit with ruthless precision.

"Listen closely, baby," he growls in your ear, hips grinding against your ass. "This is your last chance."

Your body suddenly seizes with the force of a life changing orgasm, Aaron curses under his breath, equal parts frustrated and impressed by your lack of control. He doesn't let up his ministrations, fingers continuing their merciless assault on your clit as you thrash beneath him, lost to the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Didn't I tell you not to cum without permission?" he growls, voice thick with disapproval even as he grinds against your spasming body, prolonging your peak.

"Such a naughty girl, disobeying me like that." Despite his stern words, there's a note of dark satisfaction in his tone. Your loss of control is a testament to how thoroughly he's unraveled you, brought you to the brink of madness with desire.

Your body trembles and jerks as the aftershocks of her climax roll through you, leaving you boneless and spent. You've never felt so utterly owned, so completely at someone else's mercy.

"I'm sorry," you whimper. "I couldn't help it." Even in the aftermath of your orgasm, your body aches for more, craving his touch like a drug. The anal plug shifts inside you with every shuddering breath, keeping you acutely aware of your own arousal. You've never felt so desperate, so willing to submit to another person's every whim.

Aaron's expression softens slightly at the genuine remorse in your voice, though the hunger in his eyes remains undiminished. He gentles his touch, fingers slowing their frenzied pace to languid circles around your still-throbbing clit.

"Shh, it's alright, baby," he murmurs, voice a low, soothing rumble. "I know it was too much to resist. You did so well holding on for as long as you did." He flips you over again and captures your lips in a deep, claiming kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans.

Aaron's eyes flash with sadistic glee as he reaches for the vibrator again, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He knows exactly how to push you to your limits, to make you scream and beg and plead for mercy. And he intends to do just that.

"Since you seem to enjoy cumming without permission so much," he purrs, turning the toy to its highest setting, "I think it's time for round two of your punishment."

Without further preamble, he presses the buzzing head directly against your throbbing clit, holding it steady despite your bucking hips. The intense vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure-pain ricocheting through your oversensitized body, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

Aaron watches as you writhe and convulse beneath the relentless assault of the vibrator, your body no longer your own. He can feel the tension building in your core, the way your walls flutter and clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill them.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, voice a low, seductive rumble. "Cum for me again. Show me how much you love being punished, how much you need my touch."

“I can’t, Aaron!” your scream. Aaron ignores your anguished pleas, keeping the vibrator pressed firmly against your abused clit. He revels in the sight of you, so beautifully broken, tears and sweat mingling on your flushed skin as you fall apart in his arms once again.

"Shh, just breathe through it, baby," he croons, voice deceptively gentle even as he continues the torturous stimulation. "You're doing so well, taking your punishment like a good girl."

Even after another orgasm, he doesn’t relent, keeping the vibrator on your swollen clit no matter how hard you buck your hips to avoid it.

His free hand strokes down your trembling thigh, almost tenderly, a stark contrast to the brutal pleasure he's inflicting. Suddenly, he stops the vibrator.

"Ready for more, sweetheart?" he purrs dangerously, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

“No, I can’t take anymore, please.” you reply, your voice raspy from screaming.

Aaron hilts himself inside you with one powerful thrust, groaning at the exquisite tightness enveloping him. He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours as he pounds into your sensitive flesh. Each drag of his cock against your inner walls sends sparks of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine.

"Is this what you wanted, baby?" he growls, leaning down to nip at your earlobe." To have daddy's fat dick all to yourself? To be the only one I fuck, the only one I give attention to?"

One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the column of your throat. He latches onto the delicate skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, to brand you as his. The other hand grips your hip bruisingly tight, holding you in place as he rails into you.

You whimper and moan, overwhelmed by the intense sensations "Y-yes, yes, I want you all to myself!" your nails dig into his back, clinging to him desperately as he claims you thoroughly, chasing his own release.

"Okay baby," he whispers, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts. "I'm all yours. Only yours, okay?" He grinds against your cervix with each snap of his hips, determined to stake his claim on your very soul. His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he pants harshly.

"I’m serious Aaron... I can't take anymore!" Your hands fist in the sheets, knuckles white with the force of her grip. The anal plug shifts with each movement, adding to the cacophony of sensations assaulting your nerves.

"That's it, baby," he encourages darkly as he pounds into you relentlessly. "Let me hear those pretty cries."

"Please," you rasp, voice little more than a broken whisper. "Please, Aaron. I... I won't leave you. I'm yours, okay?" The words fall from your lips like a prayer, a desperate supplication.

In that moment, you know you'd agree to anything, give him anything, if only he'd put an end to this sweet torture. Your pride, your stubbornness, all the walls you've built around her heart - they crumble to dust in the face of her all-consuming desire.

Aaron slows his thrusts, grinding deep inside you as he gazes down at your face intently. His eyes bore into yours, dark with possession and barely restrained lust.

"If you want to come one last time," he says, voice a low, dangerous purr, "Tell me you'll never even think about leaving me again. Tell me you love me." He rolls his hips deliberately, stirring up your insides.

Shaking, you say, "I-I love you, Aaron. God, I love you so much. I'll never leave you, never threaten to go. Please, make me come!"

"Those are the magic words, baby," he growls in satisfaction, eyes flashing with triumph and dark desire. "Come for me then. Now." With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, grinding against your cervix as his fingers attack your clit.

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as your final orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. He follows you over the edge seconds later, flooding your spasming pussy with his hot seed, marking you as his inside and out.

Collapsing against the sheets, utterly spent and satisfied, "Wow, I think that was your best work yet. I need time to recover." you say, panting between words.

He chuckles lowly, nuzzling into your neck as he pulls you close, still buried deep inside you. "Mmm, I aim to please, sweetheart.”

He presses soft kisses along your jaw, your cheek, finally capturing your lips in a tender, loving kiss unlike any before. He unties your hands gently.

When he pulls back, his eyes are warm with genuine affection. "I meant what I said, you know. About not seeing other women anymore. I can't believe you thought I was just gonna let you walk away."

Aaron’s forehead rests against yours, his breath unsteady, his grip unrelenting—like if he lets go, you’ll disappear. His hands tremble slightly where they hold you, his fingers pressing into your skin as if to memorize the shape of you.

He leans in, his voice a hushed whisper against your lips. “Go to sleep, baby.”

And just like that, the fight is over.

Because you were never going anywhere.

[lascvitae]

DREAMIN’ ✵ AERI UCHINAGA.

❀ ༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ alt. I MUST BE DREAMIN’ .ᐟ

ᝰ.ᐟ aeri calls you over to the studio when she can’t focus, but you prove to be far more distracting than anything else.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. giselle x fem!reader ᝰ.ᐟ genre. smut (18+) ᝰ.ᐟ warning(s). dom aeri, pet names (love, baby, pretty girl, pretty baby), choking (but not really), cunnilingus (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), slight rough sex, praising, overstimulation, thigh riding, aeri records your moans :dizzy:

ᝰ.ᐟ word count 2k

ᝰ.ᐟ katty: requested by shawty bae but okay next post make you mine part 3 (maybe)

masterlist.

YOUR PHONE BUZZED against your nightstand for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

aeri <3

what are u doingggggggggg

i’m lonely

dopamine is killing my brain

come over or i’ll die ):

you rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile stretching across your face. there was another buzz — a facetime call this time.

you picked it up and were immediately greeted by aeri’s pouty face, glasses slightly tilted. she was wrapped in an oversized hoodie that you were definitely going to steal later.

"you look insane.” you teased immediately.

"please, baby. i’m literally losing my mind. i need moral support. and food.” she tugged the hoodie tighter around herself.

“you just want some food.”

“nuh uh!”

“mmmhmm. you’re using me.” you rolled your eyes.

“i would never.”

you continued to put on your shoes. "you’re lucky you’re hot."

"luck got nothing to do with it, baby.” she blew you a kiss before hanging up.

you navigated the quiet, dimly lit hallways of sm, holding a brown paper bag of late night convenience store junk food. the building was practically abandoned at this hour except for maybe a few exhausted producers and maybe a trainee passed out in one of the practice rooms.

when you pushed open the door to the studio, you found aeri exactly as you imagined her.

she was slouched in the chair like she was bored, hoodie almost swallowing her entire body. you could see her sneakers kicked off under the desk.

"delivery for the world’s neediest girlfriend.” you announced while stepping inside.

her head snapped up immediately, whole face lighting up.

she scrambled out of the chair and towards you in like two seconds, throwing her arms around you so hard you almost dropped the bag.

"you’re my hero.” she mumbled into your shoulder.

you laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. "but you owe me.”

she pulled back enough to smirk at you. "i’ll pay you back. in kisses.”

"you better." you said, leaning down to kiss her quickly.

you settled on the couch, watching as she took a bite of the snack you brought. chips, half squashed candy bars, a sandwich? and dramatically groaned like it was the best thing she ever ate.

"i’m saving your life right now. this is basically charity work.” you said while lounging back, one leg hooked over the other.

"i’m gonna put you in the credits. special thanks to my sexy, generous, perfect girlfriend.” aeri mumbled with a mouthful of chips.

"damn right."

silence passed over while she chewed and you scrolled through your phone. the studio was lit by the monitor's glow and the leds on buttons and knobs you knew absolutely nothing about. but aeri did and you admired her for it.

"wanna hear something?” she asked suddenly, adjusting some of the buttons.

“always.” you perked up immediately, tucking your phone away.

she fiddled with the buttons some more and an addictive beat filled the room. it intrigued you immediately. you watched the way she bobbed her head to it she was effortless even in the middle of the night. even with a few crumbs on her lap.

your chest tightened.

"this is so good, baby.” you said honestly, shifting so you could see her better.

aeri flushed, smiling as she twisted her chair slightly. "it’s missing something."

"what?"

"you."

you smiled, pushing yourself up off the couch. "smooth."

"learned from the best."

you wandered over, hands sliding onto her shoulders and kneading gently. she hummed, leaning back into your touch.

"mm, 's not fair. you’re distracting me.” she said quietly.

"not doing anything.” you teased, squeezing her tighter. you bent down to press a kiss behind her ear, smiling when she shivered.

“stop. you know what that mouth does to me.” she whined, tilting her head back to look at you upside down.

"maybe you need a break.” you whispered against her temple, smiling when her hands reached for you.

she tugged you closer, and before you could blink you were straddling her, sinking into her lap. the chair squeaked under the both of you.

"jesus.” she breathed out, hands immediately gripping your thighs, your waist. anywhere she could touch.

she lifted her thigh up into you and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet whimper. a quiet whimper that she caught.

"you sound so pretty.” she murmured, voice low against your neck.

“wonder how pretty you’d sound on the track."

you bit your lip.

"make those noises for me. let them hear.” she whispered.

your heart stuttered. you kissed her — it was messy, hot, and a little desperate. your fingers thread through her hair and pull on the pink locks lightly. she moaned into your mouth, nails digging into your hips.

the music still played in the background, beat pulsing through the room as the air between you melted together.

aeri broke the kiss only to trail her lips down your jaw, your throat, nipping lightly. you rocked in her lap, gasping when she ground her thigh up into you.

you tugged her hoodie off her head with clumsy fingers, giggling when her hair stuck out in all directions. aeri grinned up at you with pink cheeks.

"stop looking at me like that.” you breathed, rocking down a little harder.

she cursed low under her breath, fingers tightening around your waist before she leaned forward to create a new track.

"can't help it. you’re like a fucking dream.” she said.

her words made you feel drunker than any drink could. you kissed her again, slower this time. it was deeper and it stretched out until your lungs burned. aeri’s hands roamed under your shirt beginning to trail light, teasing touches across your spine that made you shiver.

"so sensitive.” she teased, voice raspier now. she nipped at your bottom lip when you pouted. but your stomach dropped and you had heat rushing through you.

you continued to grind on her thigh and her hand came up to lightly tug around your throat, making you whimper.

“aeri…” you moaned out. she pulled you closer by your throat, kissing you messily while you rocked on her lap.

"there’s my girl.” she whispered as you pulled away, rocking her hips up deliberately and slowly.

"up.” she said roughly.

you pouted.

she gave a low laugh. “come on, baby. be good."

you barely had time to react before she gripped your hips and lifted you, manhandling you off her lap — making you stumble back into the chair clumsily, arms flailing to catch yourself.

"aeri—"

but she was already dropping to her knees between your legs, hungry and determined.

"fuck, look at you.” she murmured, dragging your shorts down your legs, tossing them somewhere across the studio carelessly.

you whimpered, legs instinctively trying to close but aeri was faster — hands firm on your knees, spreading you open wide for her.

"god, you're dripping.” she breathed, almost in awe.

you squirmed helplessly under her gaze, cheeks burning.

she smiled before reaching over. without breaking eye contact, she hit the red record button on the track.

“make those noises for me, love.”

you barely had time to process before her mouth was on you, and your head slammed back against the chair with a helpless whimper.

your hands tried to grip the armrest but settled on aeri’s hair instead. she groaned low against you at the first taste, the vibration going straight through your spine.

“aeri—” you gasped, already trembling under her touch.

she just groaned low against you, like she was savoring you, and the vibration made your hips jerk up without permission.

you felt the way she smirked against your skin.

"so greedy." she muttered.

you were desperate and overwhelmed, you tried to squeeze your legs shut but aeri’s hands shot up, gripping your thighs with a bruising force. she pried them back open roughly, leaving you exposed and trembling.

"no. you don’t get to hide from me. not when you’re this pretty.” she said, voice thick with want.

you whimpered, the raw need in her voice sending a full body shudder through you.

"keep those legs open, love. and let me hear you.” she commanded, punctuating it with a flick of her tongue against your clit.

the music pulsed, lost under the wet sounds of her mouth on you and the broken cries spilling from your lips.

you were shameless now, little moans and gasps tumbling out with every grind of her tongue.

and when she slipped two fingers into you, slow but deliberate, your whole body seized with pleasure.

"fuck— aeri—" you sobbed, head thrown back, tugging at her hair.

"that’s it. give it to me, baby. let me record how pretty you sound.” she whispered, voice rough, curling her fingers just right inside you.

you whimpered again, heat rushing through you at the thought. at knowing she was still recording, that this was all hers.

she thrust into you harder, dragging messy, high cries from your throat. you felt yourself getting close, the pressure building fast.

"gonna cum for me, gorgeous? gonna soak my fucking hand?” she teased against your thigh, kissing it.

"yes— yes— aeri, please!” you moaned frantically.

"then be good and cum.” she ordered, pushing you harder into the chair.

your orgasm shattered you, pleasure ripping through your body like a lightning strike. you were crying out her name so loud you were worried the soundproofing couldn’t stop you anymore

but aeri didn't stop. she hummed, fingers still driving into you through the aftershocks. then her mouth sealed around your clit again like she couldn't get enough.

you whined, the overstimulation making your hips stutter.

"stay open.” she ordered when your legs tried to close again. she forced them wider, kissing you even deeper.

"so fucking good for me. gonna give me another, pretty baby. i know you can.” she praised, bringing you right back to the edge.

you sobbed, nodding helplessly because you had no choice. you were already too far gone.

she curled her fingers again, slow and punishing, tongue never letting up.

you were already shaking, whole body hypersensitive and twitching under her mouth but she didn’t even slow down.

"so sensitive now, huh, love?" she said, soft mockery in her tone.

her fingers dragged against that perfect spot deep inside you again and again, unrelenting, while her tongue lapped hot and heavy against your clit.

"stay fucking still. be good. take it.” she said, voice full of lust.

your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth dropping open on a broken, needy moan.

"please, aeri— i can't—"

"you can. you're doing so good, baby. so pretty for me. cum again — right on my fucking tongue." she said, not giving you even a second to come down.

the pressure snapped so fast you didn’t even realize you were cumming again until you were crying out, body convulsing in her hold. you were louder this time. messier. the sounds were desperate and beautiful.

aeri moaned against you and kept licking you through it, dragging out every last drop.

"fuck, listen to you. could make a song with your sounds alone.” she breathed, pulling back just enough to watch you. your was face flushed and your chest heaving for air.

she smiled and gently kissed the inside of your trembling thigh.

"that’s my good girl.” she whispered, voice rough but full of warmth.

you barely noticed aeri reaching over to stop the recording, the little red light finally blinking off. she kissed your temple gently, murmuring something you couldn’t catch.

"easy, baby. you’re shaking.” she whispered against your skin.

you glared and she just laughed before reaching for her hoodie and tugging it over your head, wrapping you up.

"there. my pretty girl.” she cooed, kissing your nose.

you clung to the sleeves, sinking into the warmth of the fabric.

"you’re so mean.” you muttered hoarsely, letting your head loll back against the chair. aeri laughed again.

"you loved it.” she teased, leaning down to place kisses over your flushed cheeks, your nose, the corner of your mouth.

you just buried your face in her shoulder.

"you're insufferable."

"and you’re obsessed with me.” she shot back, arms wrapping around you to lift you up out of the chair effortlessly.

you yelped, clinging to her neck. "aeri!"

she just laughed again, carrying you just a few steps over to the studio couch and collapsing onto it with you.

“my best girl. the best vocalist.” she sighed, snuggling into you and tangling her legs with your tingling ones. she then pulled a blanket from the back of the couch to toss over both of you lazily.

you groaned, slapping her chest weakly. "don't you dare use that recording for anything."

“too late. it's my new alarm tone. imagine waking up to you moaning my name every morning."

you shoved your face deeper into her hoodie, clearly mortified.

she just laughed, tightening her arms around you while her voice softened.

"you’re everything to me, y/n. you know that, right?" she murmured, breath warm against your ear.

you looked up at her, heart squeezing painfully tight in your chest.

"yeah. you’re everything to me too.” you whispered, kissing her jaw.

aeri smiled and kissed you slow like there was no rush now. like you had all the time in the world.

"good. cause i’m never letting you go.” she said, nuzzling you.

and then you realized.

you will never be able to hear her song without thinking of this.

taglist — @saysirhc @m00nqvv @yuyuy90

[muletia]

Please oh great one, I beg of thee to give merform deception crumbs. I want to tease the big evil fishies. I want to bite merformer Megatron affectionately and then pretend to be oblivious to it, I want to be spoilt by mer Knockout and spoil him back with pretty shells, I want to tame merform Starscreams tsundere ass and scratch n pet his helm till he's whining affectionatly

mer!megatron x human!reader mer!knockout x human!reader x mer!breakdown mer!starscream x human!reader no specified iteration

Fuck it, I caved in, merformers content. Somewhere in the world it must be May first already, right?

Also, everyone is soft-bodied because that's my guilty pleasure

Megatron (axolotl, based on this concept)

Huge, powerful arms covered in scales wrap around your waist, shielding most of your back, holding you tightly against the stomach of the massive mer and grounding you against him. Every attempt to pull away, to increase the distance even by a single milimeter ends in failure when a warning, guttural growl paralyzes your body, commanding you to stay. Right here. With him. After all, you left your lonely, proud axolotl for two weeks — now it’s time to pay him back for making him wait, for taking away his only source of comfort in this forsaken place, this lake of despair in the middle of nowhere.

And Megatron needs to make sure you understand why he’s "punishing" you this way. What kind of agony your absence threw him into, even if he was already used to deadlier stretches of time without contact with another soul. You shifted his thresholds of tolerance, and now you had to pay. He just happened to take advantage of your closeness, feeling his resentment toward you wash off of him as easily as water. He couldn’t stay mad at you for long. Not anymore.

Annoyed, though — that, yes. A sudden, subtle bite to his bicep pulls him out of the bliss of closeness. A single growl sends a warning, continuing to test the fragile string of his nerves might not end too kindly for you, but when red optics glance at you inquisitively, you pretend you did nothing. That the pathetic little bite wasn’t your doing, which almost offends him. Do you really think he’s a fool? Your naivety also holds a delicious flavor for him, and he’s not about to let it slide.

"You send me an invitation to mate, and now you act all innocent?" he says, knowing full well you can’t understand him, not yet, but he intends to hammer his intentions into your mind with a low, husky tone, which apparently works judging by your flustered reaction. "Let me show you what love bites really look like," he adds, opening his maw to reveal two rows of razor-sharp predator teeth. He wastes no time sinking into your neck, leaving behind his affection.

Knockout (lionfish) + Breakdown (blue shark)

Perched on a large rock close to the shore, the red mer watches from the corner of his optic as you wander nearby, head lowered and eyes fixed intently on the flawlessly clear water. His helm rests on crossed forearms, tracking your movements for some time now, trying to decipher your strange little human game. It didn’t look interesting, and frankly, he couldn’t care less, but with nothing better to do while Breakdown went out hunting, Knockout decided to indulge you with his presence. He hoped you’d return the favor and shower him with your full attention, but you had your boring plans. He barely holds back an annoyed click of his tongue. Boring! Dreadfully boring!

"Heeey, couldn’t you do something more exciting? Like, I don’t know, me?" he calls out to you, but all he gets in response is a quick smile. You go right back to whatever it is you were searching for.

Offended by your lukewarm reaction, he huffs and rolls his optics, returning to sunbathing with no real purpose, keeping one optic on your movements. His tail, streaked with white and red smears of scales, slaps the surface of the water a few times.

Only after a while does the quiet of nature break with your excited squeal. Knockout lifts his helm from his arms and watches you rush toward him, splashing the water awkwardly with your feet. In your hands, you’re holding a giant conch shell that perfectly matches the colors of his scales. A strange glint flashes in his red optics, but you don’t notice it through your excitement.

"For me?" Knockout asks, pointing a claw at himself. Only when you nod enthusiastically does he take the conch from you and briefly admire it before purring with delight. "Thank you, darling. And since you’re already so close, allow me to take advantage."

Before you can blink, his free arm wraps around your back and pulls you in, completely ignoring your startled squeak, rubbing his conveniently dry helm against your head, grateful that you saved him from his boredom. He couldn’t wait to show your find to Breakdown and for the two of them to show you just how grateful they were that you began your courting.

Starscream (sailfish)

The growl escaped him by accident, a primal instinct urging him to defend his mate from danger. The problem was that you weren’t his mate (yet), and there was no danger. He just didn’t like how close that harmless fish got, breaking his sweet little idyll of you stroking his helm. When you pulled your hand back, startled by his sudden reaction, it left behind a strange emptiness that gnawed at his spark. Your touch had been pleasant, soothing. It belonged where it was — on his helm. Worshipful and adoring.

Starscream wants more of what he is owed.

"Bring that weird human hand back here," he demands and grabs your wrist, pulling it back onto his helm. Apparently a bit too forcefully, because you almost tumble into the lagoon he was currently submerged in up to the waist, but Starscream wasn’t about to apologize, even as your accusatory glare burns into him. "Worship me, human," he commands, and you obey, even without understanding his shrill chirps.

You stroke the top of his helm, and Starscream melts under your touch, sinking down into the sand and purring in contentment. "You are surprisingly fit to be my mate," he sighs, webbed servos kneading the sand in bliss like a happy, relaxed cat pawing at a cushion.

You take that as an invitation to move a bit lower, running the edge of your hand along his faceplate until you reach his chin, which you begin to gently scratch, right before Starscream accuses you of slacking off.

"W-what are you doing?!" he cries out, but it’s a bluff, the initial shock caused by the overwhelming joy of an unknown sensation of chin scratches. His tail starts swaying gently on its own, stirring the surface of the water, and a sweet little whine escapes his intake, begging you not to stop. Starscream doesn’t even notice your wide, satisfied smile, hypnotized by the addictive power of your touch.

[havenhyunjin]

daisy - hyunjin

a continuation of is it casual now?

—Surely that was all that was going to happen; Hyunjin was going to agonizingly friendzone you again, even if he maybe wanted you too. Complimenting you, saying he didn’t deserve you, repeating that he loved you had to be just a way for him to try to let you down easier. word count: 4.8k

warnings: mature, explicit sexual content ahead. 18+ only please! best friends to lovers; angst; hurt/comfort; mild alcohol intoxication; unprotected consensual sex (be responsible); oral sex (f receiving), fingering, creampie.

a/n: this is an accompanying written piece of the text au "is it casual now?". i believe it can be read as a stand-alone, but the texts are cute too. <3

The daisy necklace felt cold and heavy against your skin. It was a sharp reminder of all that was wrong, and yet it was an anchor at the same time. Perhaps that was the problem; anchoring yourself to land that seemed to want nothing but to get away from you. 

Surely, Hyunjin didn’t mean for anything to escalate to this point. When he insisted you remain best friends, like you’d always been, the rationale was to avoid exactly what was happening. He knew two things for sure: Relationships end, and he couldn't live without you. The only logical step was to keep things between you two platonic; that way it wouldn’t end. 

He failed to take into account another unequivocal truth: You loved each other ardently. 

It is the kind of love you can’t contain. The harder you try, the more it will manifest on everyday choices, on shared moments, on breaking hearts. 

As of right now, it manifested in the hot tears streaming down your face, sitting on a lonely bench in the middle of the night. It manifested in the alcohol sweating off your pores, failing to make you forget. It manifested in your shaking hands, holding your phone as you try to separate yourself from this narrative once and for all. 

please let me come get you. we have to talk in person, we can’t do this over texts, you read Hyunjin’s messages, having half a mind not to cave in instantly. The masochistic part of you that had accepted the crumbs of Hyunjin’s love was clawing its way out, but she was kept at bay. 

You couldn’t take another “just friends” speech from him, and you told him as much over angry, sad texts. As if he was helping your masochistic part give in to him once again, he replied that he loved you. He loved you so much his world was spinning off its axis, terrified of losing you. 

Theoretically, that was all you would ever want to hear, but you heard it all before too. And of course, you didn’t want to lose him either, but your soul was dying a little bit more every day that you saw him and you couldn’t envelop yourself in him to show him your love. You said you needed time and space to move on, and be capable of being his friend. 

He pleaded to let you see him once again. You tried fighting back one last time. The resolve quickly faded. Maybe you were a weak woman in love, but anyone else would’ve given in too. i love you, i need you. please, daisy. i don’t want you to get over me. you’re the most wonderful woman in the planet and i don’t deserve you, but i will try. 

Agreeing to see him by turning your location back on for Hyunjin to find you, anguish, regret and hope merged into one convoluted emotion that you were far too wrecked to process. You didn’t even have enough time to try to stop crying when you recognized Hyunjin’s car on the street in front of you. He ran to you, and before any other thought crossed your mind, your brain betrayed you by noticing how stunning he looked. As if he didn’t look like that all the time, and as if your brain hadn’t fantasized about him enough times to last you your whole life. 

His hair was tied in a messy half ponytail, wearing a black leather jacket and jeans. His face was contorted in emotions you couldn’t read, not for lack of trying. His eyes were desperate, his hands were shaky, his steps were steady, his mouth was unmoving. 

“Daisy, it’s fucking freezing,” was the first thing he said in front of you, immediately taking his jacket off to give it to you. You didn’t want it, you knew it was a torture device, but it happened too quickly for your dazed mind to protest. He didn’t really talk as he helped you up from the bench, leading you to the passenger seat of his car, and you were simply moving automatically. He put your seatbelt on before closing the door behind him and walking to the driver seat. All you did was close your eyes, not ready to face him again, not ready for more rejection than your sanity could take. 

Surely that was all that was going to happen; Hyunjin was going to agonizingly friendzone you again, even if he maybe wanted you too. Complimenting you, saying he didn’t deserve you, repeating that he loved you had to be just a way for him to try to let you down easier.

Your internal dialogue raged on, because Hyunjin simply drove in silence in the direction of your apartment. Surely he would be leaving you there to cry yourself to sleep once again as soon as he said whatever he needed to say.  

When he parked his car, he also opened the door for you and tried to help you out but you flinched away from him. His touch didn’t just electrify you; it burned through your layers of clothes like the daisy necklace did. The sharp reminder of your anchor sailing away. 

“Daisy, can I come up? I’ll leave as soon as you’re inside if you want me to,” Hyunjin said, wincing after you flinched away.

His heart was aching. His internal dialogue was as tragic as yours. He knew for sure you wouldn’t give him a second chance at being brave enough to love you. He knew this was going to be the last time you’d let him that close to you. He knew you didn’t trust him anymore.

All he was hoping for was a few more minutes with you as you went up the elevator and before you closed your door to him forever. All you were hoping for were a few more minutes with him before you had to say goodbye to him out of pure survival instinct. 

So you agreed for him to walk you to your door. You saw him punch in your code, and open the door for you. You put your head down as you walked in, and hesitantly turned around to face him, reaching to take his jacked off yourself. You willed yourself to look into his eyes. 

Hyunjin was crying. He was trying hard to keep the tears from falling, he was furrowing his eyebrows and he wasn’t looking back at you, instead staring at the corner of your wall behind you. 

It’s not like you hadn’t seen him cry before. He cried watching Inside Out, when you graduated, when he laughed too hard, when his little fish died. But this wasn’t the same. His lips quivered a little, his eyes were almost closed, his cheeks were red, his hands were closed in fists. He was in agony. 

Your masochistic side, and the side of you that loved Hyunjin like the forest loves the flame, teamed up against your decision to say goodbye. You could not bear to see him hurt that way, even if it meant more pain for you. So you wrapped your hand around his wrist and led him inside, speechlessly closing the door behind you. 

“Daisy, I…,” Hyunjin started to talk quickly, knowing you were granting him the chance to do so. You closed your eyes, ready for the big blow. Ready for a wretched feeling of heartache you never thought Hyunjin would cause you. Ready for him to close the possibility of ever letting you love him. Ready for him to never take the leap for both of you. Ready for your fears to drag you away from each other. 

You weren’t ready for the soft, cold hands that wrapped around your cheeks, and the hot minty breath against your face. You weren’t ready to find a pair of brown, yearning eyes looking deep into yours when you opened them. You weren’t ready for the touch of his nose against yours as he leaned in. You weren’t ready for the all consuming feeling of his plump lips on yours. 

But you welcomed it. You welcomed it like the feeling of a warm blanket on a rainy day, like the smell of your childhood pillow, like the taste of your favorite candy on Christmas, like the sound of a perfect melody, like the sight of a sunrise. You welcomed it like finally coming home. 

The daisy necklace felt hot against your skin. It was a sharp reminder of all that you desired standing right in front of you, somehow anchoring you and making you fly away at the same time. Perhaps that was the paradox; anchoring yourself to land that you thought was drifting away, but right now was holding you like a treasure. 

Surely, Hyunjin didn’t mean for anything to escalate to this point. When he insisted you needed to talk, he logically knew his first step couldn’t be to kiss you. He knew two things for sure: You couldn’t just be his friend, and he couldn't live without you. The only logical step was to communicate your feelings, fears and concerns to each other; that way he wouldn’t have to live without you. 

He failed to take into account another unequivocal truth: You loved each other ardently. 

It is the kind of love you can’t contain. The harder you try, the more it will manifest on everyday choices, on shared moments, on magnetic forces between you two. 

As of right now, it manifested in a kiss that would put every other epic kiss to shame. It manifested in your hands wrapped around his neck, holding onto him for dear life. It manifested in your heavy breathing as you both gasped for air, immediately crashing back into each other. 

You didn’t really have to talk anything out anymore. Your bodies melting into each other, transforming into a single entity was enough of a declaration, but Hyunjin wouldn’t have it that way. He needed to know that you knew. 

You hesitantly pulled back as he grabbed your chin to create a small distance between your lips. 

“Baby, I love you,” Hyunjin said barely above a whisper. Barely above a prayer he hoped would be heard by you, his goddess. 

“I love you,” was all you could truly reply. What else could you say? How else could you say it other than dripping with devotion? 

The pieces of the puzzle fit together perfectly, the cracks in your heart embalmed in healing, gently, kindly, steadily by his four words. 

You leaned your face into his right hand, almost unconsciously, craving Hyunjin’s warmth. His heart did somersaults, and he wanted nothing more than to give you every bit of affection you could ever crave until the day he died. 

“I know what I said before, and what I thought was the best, but I was wrong. I was so wrong, Daisy,” he said as he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, unable to look at you until he cleared the air, otherwise he’d just give in to your lips again. “I thought everything would be better if we didn’t take the risk of us not working out.” 

You nodded, attempting to ease his mind showing him you understood the reasoning. You tried to open your mouth, but he wasn’t done talking, so you simply placed a hand on the nape of his neck to try to soothe him. 

“I know it’s dumb and cliche, but I couldn’t have you be another thing that didn’t work out in my life. I’ve done stupid shit, I’ll probably keep doing stupid shit, and I got all this baggage you already know about, and it isn’t an excuse but I just thought I should save you the trouble of dealing with it more than you already do,” Hyunjin rambled on, stumbling into his words and thoughts. He had planned out his speech, at least parts of it, but it was all coming out messy. He wanted to organize his thoughts, but he was desperate for you to understand that he wanted you, needed you, loved you, and the past few days weren’t because he saw you as just a friend, but because he saw you as so much more.

All you could do was make him look you in the eyes, forcing eye contact to ground him. 

“I don’t want to fuck this up. I won’t. I’ll be everything you need, if you’ll take me,” Hyunjin murmured, his eyes nearly watering as his emotions overcame him. 

“I’ll be everything you need too, if you’ll take us,” you replied, holding your faith in him close to your heart. He wouldn’t hurt you; not on purpose, not irretrievably. He would do everything to fix what needed fixing, he wouldn’t leave you hanging, he wouldn’t take you for granted. He would love you. You would love him. 

“You’re already everything,” he blurted out, as sincere as he’d ever been, before crashing his lips back into yours. 

Hyunjin knew he wasn’t done expressing his feelings and fears, and that there were some that he barely even recognized. But he also knew he would have the time to do that, and you would be gentle enough to grant him that grace. You wouldn’t judge him, you wouldn’t run out of patience, you wouldn’t walk out on him. You would love him. He would love you. 

So Hyunjin gave in to you, and you gave in to him.

His kiss was desperate and passionate, leaving you breathless and dizzy, trying to steady yourself on his chest. Any alcohol in your system had already been replaced by the adrenaline of holding your entire world in your hands, and finally being able to be this close to him.

Soon enough, you started leading him to your room, even with an unmade bed and a few scattered items. He wasn’t unfamiliar to your room, knowing the scent, layout and quirks of it very well. However, he suddenly felt like an outsider you were inviting in for the first time, and he wasn’t sure of what to do. Hyunjin’s mind started to race. Did you want to sleep? Did you want him to hold you? Did you want more? Did you want to wait? 

As his thoughts started rushing, your touch was the one to ground him yet again as you motioned him to come closer to you, kneeling on the edge of your bed with him standing in front of you. He didn’t need words, your hands under his clothes touching his skin telling you everything he needed to know. You wanted him as badly as he wanted you, and you needed to feel close to him. 

His shirt came off first, your core warming at the sight. Greek gods would be put to shame besides Hyunjin, sculpted and soft against your fingertips. He was shy under your intense gaze, opting to help you out of your blouse instead. Once he caught a glimpse of your skin under the soft lamp light, he was done for. Still asking for your consent when unhooking your bra, you nodded and threw it at the floor yourself. 

Hyunjin watched as you laid down under him, your breasts slightly moving and your nipples hardened with the temperature change. He knew he was staring far too much, but anything he had ever imagined before paled in comparison to what he was seeing. Any dreams and fantasies he’d had of you naked underneath him as he touched himself, were far off the real thing.

You blushed at the attention on your chest, pulling Hyunjin in for a kiss as he went into bed with you. He happily returned it, and quickly moved his hands to unbutton your jeans, humming while asking for permission once again, as if you were ever going to say no to the man you desired with every cell of your being. 

You lifted your hips up enough for him to pull down the item along with your underwear, and you couldn’t help but whine as you felt yourself truly exposed beneath him. He only barely noticed, busy admiring every curve of your legs, thighs and most of all your naked pussy. 

His cock was painfully hard, twitching at the mere sight. He didn’t know how he was not going cum immediately upon tasting you, feeling you, but he would be damned if he didn’t have you right now. 

Hyunjin gently spread your thighs, whimpering ever so silently as he looked at your slick folds. “You’re so wet, my baby,” he looked up, making eye contact with you and licked his lips. 

The sight was a pure, unadulterated wet dream. You should be even more wet, having the most beautiful man in the world between your thighs, lowering his sinful lips and tongue on your sex. 

You arched your back and instantly held the roots of his hair in your hands as he licked a long, tortuous stripe around your slit and pussy lips. Kitten licks right into your already swollen clit followed, and you shut your eyes closed cursing under your breath. “You taste like fucking heaven, baby,” he said right into your core, making you whine. Hyunjin was slowly, almost imperceptibly, rutting his hips against the bed to give some attention to his clothed, aching cock, drunk on your taste and moans. 

He was a man starved, alternating between fucking his tongue right into the hole he would fuck with his fingers next, picturing how tight and good you would feel around his cock later, and giving fast consistent ministrations to your sensitive clit. 

You would never last long, much less as he worked one finger inside you wrapping his lips around the bud. He was met with more resistance pushing a second finger in, his long hands proving to be a challenge to take like you knew his dick would be, but you were excited to have it. 

Hyunjin never stopped his consistent pace on your clit, relaxing you and recoiling you at the same time. He knew he needed to prep you with at least three fingers if he was going to fuck you, feeling how tight you were, vibrating in anticipation. He worked slower, almost painfully so. Once he felt his index and middle finger slide in and out of your pussy with ease, he leisurely pressed his ring finger to your entrance. 

You were lost in the feeling, grinding yourself on his hand and moaning his name over and over again. You took all three fingers in, opening up for him even more as he scissored them inside of you, not once stopping his steady, erotic make out session with your clit. 

Hyunjin was all about pleasing you, so he curled his fingers inside of you, drinking in your every movement, sound and wetness pouring out of you. “Let go for me baby, give it to me,” he encouraged, only barely stopping his constant stimulation on your clit. 

You were soon enough cumming in his mouth and hand, giving Hyunjin the sweetest taste he ever had in his life, and seeing stars, cross eyed at the feeling of an angel gifting you the first orgasm of the night. He cleaned up the remnants of your orgasm, not baring the idea of any of it going to waste and smiling up at you. You smiled back, chuckling shyly, as he climbed up to kiss you for you to taste yourself on him. It was intoxicating, remembering him eating you out as you tasted the evidence. 

The aftershocks of the high subsided once you remembered Hyunjin hadn’t cum yet. He wasn’t even fully undressed, and suddenly you couldn’t bear the thought. Half sitting up, you undid his belt impatiently and helped him as he pushed his pants and boxers aside, kneeling on the bed. He was fighting every impulse to moan at every single friction, at just the sight of your hands so close to his leaking cock. 

Your mouth was watering, pressing your thighs together even if it meant overstimulating your sensitive core. Hyunjin’s effect on your body was insane, amping up every passing second. He was decidedly big, and you silently thanked him for how he opened you up before. You ached to have his thick cock deep inside you, and you also craved the taste of him on your throat. You thought you should do the latter, returning the favor, but Hyunjin quickly pinned you back down to the bed. 

“Baby, I want to fuck you,” he whispered against your ear, his hands running along your waist and finding the flesh of your breasts. He continued by pressing sensual kisses on your neck and groping your tits, “Will you let me fuck you, Daisy?” A smile was on his face as he realized how you were only wearing your half daisy necklace, and he was wearing his. A wonderful, possessive reminder. You were finally his, and he had always been yours. 

“Hyun, please,” you barely whimpered out, dazed in lust, lightly scratching his back as you felt his cock so close, yet so far from your hole. You didn’t even have to beg, he would give you anything and everything you could ever ask for. 

As he positioned himself over you, while you spread your legs for him, he framed your face between his hands on the bed supporting him. You looked into Hyunjin’s eyes, knowing they were matching the passion behind yours, and knowing you both understood how life-changing this moment was. 

You put your hands on his neck as he finally pushed inside you with a soft thrust. Hyunjin went slow, intentional, as he felt you adjust bit by bit. He didn’t break eye contact, even though he was ready to cum any second. You felt so tight, warm and wet on his cock, he could barely even think, he could barely do anything other than look at you and understand he was home. 

“Fuck, you feel so perfect,” he said as he began to bottom in, leaning in to catch your lips in a kiss he hoped conveyed the wave of love combined with lust that he was feeling. “You were made for me, baby,” Hyunjin continued praising you, because it was truly all he could do. 

And you were made for him. The stretch stung, but pain melted into pleasure all the same as he kissed you, as he whispered all those sweet, dirty words. Soon enough it was all pleasure, it was all him finally inside you, finally taking what was his. Your moans were nearly uncontrollable, even more so as he began thrusting into you at a delirious, gentle pace. 

“You feel so good,” you whimpered into his lips, punctuating each word with his thrusts. Hyunjin almost smirked, beaming off your praise. He wanted to pick up the pace, but he also never wanted the moment to end. He was losing it, the taste of your pussy still lingering in his tongue mixed with the pleasure he felt as he fucked all his love into you. It was enough to bring him to heaven. 

He pulled your legs higher up, wrapping them around his waist to take you deeper. As you moaned in a higher pitch, he swallowed the sweet sounds into his mouth. Every emotion was heightened; the desperation, satiation, love, adoration, yearning, all enveloped into the intensity of your sex. 

“So fucking perfect,” he mumbled softly, barely above a prayer he wanted only you to hear. You knew you’d kneel to pray to him just the same. All of his movements and words made your cunt clench, feeling impossibly full and yet like it wasn’t enough. Like you needed him to be whole. At every spasm, Hyunjin’s cock twitched inside you, controlling himself not to let his impulse to press you face first into the mattress and take your pussy from behind win. He knew he could do that another time, and he knew he needed to show you his devotion right now. 

You could feel him restraining himself, and with one quick moment you pushed him to the bed on his back for you to straddle him. His cock slipped out with a pop that you both groaned at, and he immediately held onto your waist as a reflex, looking at you quizzically. 

“Let me ride you, baby,” you asked softly, positioning yourself over his cock and taking it inside you again at a new, toe-curling angle. 

Hyunjin could’ve cum right then and there, holding on to your soft skin. As you started bouncing up and down his length, he didn’t know whether to focus on your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, the erotic sight of where you two were connected, or the near pornographic vision of your tits moving in his face along with your necklace, his necklace. 

He was gone. He had been gone for years, knowing deep down nothing would ever satisfy him if he couldn’t have you. And now that he did, now that you were truly, genuinely taking your place as his goddess divine on top of him and his cock, he also realized he’d never be truly satisfied. He would never get enough of you, but he would spend every waking moment of his life adoring you. Even if centuries wouldn’t be enough with you, he will gladly spend his lifetime worshipping you, and every inch of your body. 

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling himself up to begin tracing kisses, love bites and marks around your neck and breasts. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he declared, swore, between every single kiss.

Your movements were becoming more erratic when riding his cock, your words barely making their way out only because you couldn’t fathom not saying I love you back. Everything you did brought you closer to your high, and you could barely take it anymore. Even less when Hyunjin pressed his thumb right into your clit, and took one nipple into his mouth, licking circles in it. He was trying to make you cum before him, relishing in the sweet sounds coming out of your mouth. You were going cross eyed at all the stimulation, feeling the coil inside your stomach so close to snapping. 

“Fuck, just like that baby. You’re taking me so well,” he hummed, encouraging you as you picked up the pace riding him even if your legs felt like they were giving out. 

He placed you down on the bed as he felt your legs faltering, thrusting into you at a harder, faster pace. You held him by his arms, spreading your legs and closing your eyes shut as your moans became uncontrollable. His name was all that you even remembered, whining it out for him to dream about forever. 

“Finish for me, baby,” he said, kissing you deeply, his cock inside you hitting just the right spot for the coil to snap. 

The earth-shattering orgasm hit you all at once, tidal waves flowing over you as Hyunjin held you in the aftershocks. He fucked you through it, your pussy spasming, almost pulling him deeper inside you and letting him reach his own high. He filled you up with his pearly white cum, and you felt complete. 

He didn’t let go of you, as he laid in the crook of your neck panting, still inside you. He put only slightly more weight on you, careful not to hurt you, but relaxing into your body. 

You were breathing heavily too, still riding the ecstasy Hyunjin made you feel. As he felt you shaking, he pulled out and laid down beside you holding you into his chest. “I got you, baby. I got you…” he softly whispered in your ear, placing a kiss on your temple. You hugged him tight, smiling as he traced patterns on your back. “You are perfect,” he repeated, as he kept telling you before. 

You looked him in the eyes, the crystal glaze of love over them, and pecked his lips softly. You looked at his daisy necklace, reaching out to touch it with your fingers and tracing your own patterns on his chest and neck. No words were needed, the air between you two only trapped inside your bubble of a dream come true.

“I love you, Daisy,” Hyunjin promised once again. “I love you, baby,” you promised right back. 

The daisy necklace felt like safety and protection against your skin. It was a sharp reminder of all that you held dear to your heart, and it was the ever-present anchor that tied you to your one true love. Perhaps that was the endgame; anchoring yourself to the land that you had made your home in. 

Surely, Hyunjin had willed this all to happen, even if he didn’t realize it. As he held you close, skin to skin, his every desire and need was fulfilled. He knew two things for sure: He was yours, and he couldn't live without you. All he could do, all he wanted to do, was to make you his, until the very end. 

He now knew another unequivocal truth: You loved each other ardently. 

It is the kind of love you can’t contain. The harder you try, the more it will manifest on everyday choices, on shared moments, on new opportunities. 

As of right now, it manifested in the calm and warmth of his embrace. It manifested in the kind, caring kisses you pressed all over his face. It manifested in your souls molding into a single one. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello!

I heard you wanted some fluff requests?

Could I request fluff for law, ace and smoker ( separately) please?

I was thinking of something like reader is just feeling a bit down and wants to cuddle or hugs?

Thank you!!

I’m still on hiatus, very much so, but I’m just gonna drop this here real quick.

Law isn't use to giving hugs or cuddles, he's not been in situations where they were needed, especially not from him at the very least. His position as a doctor meant that he was to be aware of one's mental health as well as physical, and so it wasn't hard for him to grasp that you weren't in the right mindset to be left alone, not when you tried to convince him that you were okay and that he shouldn't be worried.

Law is not so easily convinced and would sit himself down next to you, all the while maintaining some distance should you need it, not once crossing that boundary until you were looking at him teary eyed and asking in a weak voice if he could hold you. That's when he'd wordlessly open his arms to you and allow you to burry yourself into him, gripping him tightly as though you couldn't fathom him being real, allowing you to tuck your head under his chin as he brings his arms over you in silent reassurance that he was indded there for you.

Law doesn't speak much while holding you, he would much rather having you feel his presence and know that you weren't alone, for he felt that you didn't need to talk constantly to bring someone reassurance but instead just being there when it counts often spoke louder then words. He would squeeze your waist three times, or how he'd trace shapes and patterns into your back to get your mind off of things, or even how now and then Law would let you trace his tattoos upon his chest and arms if it meant drawing your mind away from the dark that resides there.

Law knew there was only so much he could do to combat whatever you were thinking and feeling, so he just stayed as your source of comfort, allowing you to cling to him for as long as you needed even if it meant you eventually falling asleeo within his lap. Law didn't complain, didn't kick up a fuss, didn't pull away, nothing; but instead he stayed still as he watched you slowly drift to sleep against him. This is when the only thing he said to you before you completely left him for the land of dreams was: 'i'm not going anywhere.'

Ace knew something was off the moment your smile didn't reach your eyes, nor when your laugh started to sound to him less and less genuine the more days that pass by. He's concerned to say the least and didn't felt it was appropriate to continue to laugh and joke when you were feeling not like yourself elswhere, alone with your mind that was whispering poision for you to believe as truth.

He was more then prepared when he stood in your room, opening up his arms to you with a soft smile and kind eyes that reflected his seemingly never ending warmth, a welcoming invitation that you couldn't deny yourself as you found yourself basked in his warmth as he holds you tightly to his chest all the while kissing your forehead followed by sweet nothings. Ace is effectively better at reassuring you with words and affection then maybe Law and Smoker, he's been where you've been before and will not let you suffer from those kinds of cloudy days alone, not while he had a say in it and possessed the ability to hold you in his warm embrace until you felt even a crumb better then you did moments prior.

He wanted to provide you as much love and reassurance as he could by holding you close to his significantly warmer body, wanting nothing more then to run off those negative thoughts of yours with his words of affirmation and encouragment that you were far more then you orginally believe. So it was typical and befitting that you and Ace end up finishing the day like you always did when hugging or hugged for a prolonged time; sleeping contently within the presence of the other as Ace held you close to his chest, burried his head into your neck as you rest your head against his and holding onto each other for dear life while you both ventured into the land of dreams.

Smoker isn't one to be openly affectionate. It's not in his dna and it has nothing to do with his grumpy and stoic persona, nothing at all but the fact that he's been a very busy man and hans't been put in any situation where he was looked upon as a source of comfort or a shoulder to lean on.

This doesn't mean that he doesn't try to be a person of comfrot to you in your time of need. Smoker is just a little stiff with it but the sentimentality was there when his large hands rub your back soothingly, his scent of cigars and smoke filling your senses in a manner your mind had come to asossiate with him as comforting and grounding, making whatever was on your mind take a backseat as Smoker was all you could focus on.

He was all you could feel, all you could smell and all you could bring your full attention on as you burried yourself against his chest, wanting nothing more then to sink futher into him until you couldn't distinguish where you began and he ended. Smoker might think he felt the need to do more to comfort you but you couldn't have disagreed more for all you needed was him to hold you, as though he was singlehandedly keeping you in one piece within his strong embrace, keeping you tethered to the reality of you and him.

Smoker wouldn't mind letting you cling to him as long as you needed, whatever made you feel better even by the slightest margin was allowed by Smoker, for it was you who was in need and he'd do anything to make sure that you were at the very least within a comfortable position to talk your mind. Smoker would listen intently as you told him everything that had been piling up over the course of the day, letting you get it off of your chest before this downtrodden feeling grew worse, knowing that sometimes you just needed someone to listen to your issues rather then someone to give advice on how to better deal with them; and for you Smoker would give you every ounce of his undivided attention to every single word that left your lips.

He might not be great at comfort in his eyes, but to you, you couldn't ask for anyone else to be your shoulder to lean on then Smoker.

[friendly-wizard-bibliothecary]

In Regards to Wyll's Content Disparity

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

I don't think some people realize how it feels to be a black gamer in the context of Wyll's content disparity. Intentionally racist or not, the fact that he continues to be overlooked and disregarded by the Devs is really disheartening. As a black gamer (and please note I am speaking for myself and do not represent the wider black gaming community, don't read this as that) I feel just as overlooked and disregarded as Wyll currently is.

Wyll is a great character. I absolutely adore Wyll. But he feels under baked. And this sucks because you see a pattern in media where black characters (especially black female characters, but that's a conversation for a different day) aren't as fleshed out as white characters. They aren't given the same love and care as white or white coded characters and, therefore, the fandom doesn't reciprocate with love and care towards the black or black coded characters. So of course, this reads as people not caring about them, so the writers don't bother to fix them or give them more.

It is a vicious cycle that we see often where they make Wyll, butdon't put as much work into him, so the fandom doesn't like him as much, so they don't think they need to put more work into him. They put more love and care into the white/white-coded characters because that is what the predominantly white fandom wants.

But as they do that, the black fans and the fans that enjoy Wyll as a character are ignored. Their voices are drowned out by the majority and I cannot tell y'all how shitty of a feeling that is. As a black woman, I have constantly been talked over, ignored, had my ideas repeated by a white person and have them take the credit, etc. So seeing Wyll and Wyll fans being ignored, talked over, white counterparts getting the attention sucks.

I get enough of that shit in real life, I don't want to have to deal with that in all my fucking hobbies.

As a black gamer, this makes me feel as if I don't belong in this fandom. It makes me feel like the devs and the writers don't want me in this fandom. It makes me feel like I'm not welcome to play this game, that I'm not welcome to like this character over others, that I'm not able to bring my experiences as a black woman and a black gamer to this game because the main black character is treated like they don't matter. It makes me feel like the writers didn't want to put in the work for this black man and felt like no one would notice or care. That no one but black folks would mind and who cares what black folks are saying?

Again, this is all my opinion and its a bit rambly. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this that really is a culmination of various things involving being a blerd and black geek in predominantly white fandoms.

But I think it's important to recognize that people are impacted by this and it sucks for a lot of black folks in white dominant spaces to continue to have to fight for crumbs at the table during Black History Month in 2024. We should have good, fleshed out characters, that are respected and cared for by their creators and by the fandom at large. I really hope Larian puts in the work for Wyll and a lot more people can see how cool a character he really is. He deserves the same amount of love and care as the other origin companions.

[meatcute]

hey everyone, id like to tell you all about manal @manal-ghorab2 and her campaign. (verified -- #184 on @gazavetters list, #1117 on the butterfly project) currently at €640/€50,000

manal once worked as a math teacher, and came home to four children and her husband. when the israeli occupation turned their weapons and hatred on the civilians of gaza, manal's dreams of teaching the next generation and continuing a peaceful family life crumbled away. she has told me personally how sad she has become, working hard for crumbs to protect what she has left -- her children. with her husband injured and out of commission, she is left with overwhelming weight on her shoulders.

20 euros, or $21.59 USD, is how much i donated to her campaign today. think of the last time you made a purchase for that much or more. maybe you bought movie tickets, or bought food for yourself and a friend. maybe you got a cute clothing item or a stuffed toy. could you spare 20 euros for a young family struggling to survive?

please reblog this post or share the campaign on other websites! tell your friends in real life, too! manal sorely needs some momentum, so please, don't leave her alone like this!!

[fanged-fanfics]

Hi!! Can you write please part 3 of Truthless Recluse as dad? Like continuing part about what will happen next after reader was a puppet. As Smilk said "I'll find a way to fix that weakness of his.." So what will he do?

☆ Fragmented Control — Dad!Truthless Recluse & Child!Reader ☆

Genre: Angst || they/them pronouns for reader || Warning again for super manipulative Shadow Milk

A/N: VERY late sequel but! It is here!! (Part one for those who need it)

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Pale white walls, void of all comfort and warmth. Such a bare, blank slate to focus on. In the walls of the Spire, it was all the Recluse could see. His mind simmered with a dull turmoil, chest aching along with it. It had been a mere few days since his outburst at the azure jester, and his heart still felt rattled with anger. You'd stepped out for only a moment, the only time he'd let you leave his side. Just for a snack. You had insisted you could do it, especially since your papa had just come back from a task and needed the rest. With a heavy heart, he'd let you go

The fallen king took in a sigh, trying to calm his nerves. But just then, air stirred above his head. A deep blue portal swirling with black had appeared, and a floating grinning blue face belonging to his 'master' soon after. "Ah, there you are!" Shadow Milk chirped, climbing all the way into the room to float along the air. The recluse felt his brow furrow. "I don't recall being scheduled for any more missions" he said flatly. Shadow Milk waved a hand in a grand gesture of dismissal "Pssh, no, no, nothing like that! I was just on my way to prepare my next act!". Shadow Milk summoned a puppet, moving its strings to make it skip in the air. Recluse just huffed, until the next words pierced ice cold fear into every crumb of his being—

"...And then I found that a poor little calf had left the heard!"

Recluse's head snapped to glare up at his boss, a hard expression on his face. To make matters worse, Shadow Milk just kept idly whistling while playing with his puppet.. toying with it. "What did you do..." the truthless one asked through bitterly gritted teeth. Shadow Milk grinned even wider. "Nothing, nothing! Don't be so tense, Vanilly! I just thought maybe the little doughling could use a place in the show!" He announced. Illusions of confetti and cannons shot out from behind him, dissolving in the air just as soon.

Recluse stepped closer, every line on his face a deadly scowl. "Where. Is. My. Child." He gritted out. Shadow Milk sighed, facing the door and calling out, "Bring em in, my little shadowlings!". Candy Apple and Black Sapphire Cookie swung open the doors, a small figure standing between them. They walked in, stopping to spread their arms open like they were showing off some grand prize. The sight made the truthless one's heart sink into his stomach.

It was the same vision as before, when you were under Shadow Milk's threads. Dull, empty eyes, a downcast expression, and a lifeless slump to your form. Your head tilted up, meeting your father's horrified eyes. He rushed forwards, pushing the minions away and grasping you tight to his chest "My baby... you didn't... not my baby..." he murmured

"Ugh, don't be so dramatic" Shadow Milk said with a frown, finally landing on the ground "They were out of line. I just made sure we were all singing the same tune! No more slip-ups". Recluse slowly turned his head, and Shadow Milk almost felt his jam freeze. The way the blonde bangs fell over the face containing barely restrained rage gave his 'friend' a dark shadow over his eyes. Someone once so kind, now carrying hate itself in his eyes, blue pupils shrunken and zeroed in on the Beast alone.

"You... you did this" Recluse said, slowly standing "You took everything from me. Was that not enough? Did my souljam not satisfy you enough?" He asked accusingly "I told you to never put your hands on them again. And now... now... you took them from me". Shadow Milk kept a glare on his face, standing up taller "You're so gullible". With a huff and a clap of his hands, the image of you began to fade, rapidly turning into air. "No- no!" The Recluse yelled, rushing back over. His hands grabbed at the empty air as you completely vanished. "No, no, no! I- I can't-!" He choked, gasping as he grabbed at where you once were "You have to-!"

"Ow!" Came a sharp yelp. Black Sapphire was rubbing his shin, where a small Cookie had kicked him with all their little might. The truthless one turned to the noise, completely stunned to see you giving your nastiest look to the purple performer. Candy Apple swiped the air near you, but you immediately bolted to the Recluse, putting your face in his shoulder. "Papa, papa! That bully didn't let me keep my snack! He took it all!" You complained

Recluse was left breathing shallowly, wide eyes looking up at the loudly cackling commander before him. "Oh, too good! You really fell for it, ahaha!" Shadow Milk went on, an arm wrapped around his stomach. "I don't..." Recluse began, with Shadow Milk quickly speaking again. "I'm the master of deceit for a reason!" He said in a sing-songy tone. He wiped at a tear of amusement from his eye, patting Black Sapphire on the back "Just a little illusion, obviously! Sheesh, you need those eyes checked". "All of that was just-" Recluse stammered, only to again be cut off

"A lie" Shadow Milk confirmed, Candy Apple giggling as Black Sapphire stood straight again. "But don't get too comfy. That was a little vision of the future, free of charge!" Shadow Milk added. He was still grinning, but it was tight at the corners, his eyes bored intensely into the man below him "So don't go around making threats like that again, 'kay? You never were good at keeping all those sheep in their pen. The next time one steps out... well. I keep spare puppet strings for a reason"

With no further words, he spun on his heels and walked to the exit. Black Sapphire and Candy Apple followed after, the TV host shooting one last glare to you before exiting. The door slammed shut, echoing in the room. The noise ringing off the walls resonated in the Recluse's head. You looked up, frustration melting away in place of worry. You gently tugged at his sleeve "Papa?"

Recluse turned to you, his eyes still brimming with pain. His expression slowly turned softer, a hand cupping your cheek "my little one.. you're okay". "Course I am," you said, tiling your head in confusion "Why?". "Nothing. Nothing at all" Recluse sighed. He kept petting your cheek as he spoke "Where... where did he have you?". "He told me I had to go in the library" You answered "But he left me there for so long! So I came to find you"

Recluse held you to his chest, arms wrapping around you completely. He cradled the back of your head, kissing the top of it "Please... please never leave my side again. I can't- bear the thought of losing you. This Spire is so dangerous, little bluebird". You nodded, nuzzling up into his chest. You could hear the waver in his words, and feel the slight shake of his arms while he held you. He rocked a little, cradling you as close as he could. "I promise," you said, holding your dad's robes a little tighter. Your eyes lingered on the door where just moments ago, you'd run in and had to seemingly save your papa from... whatever was happening

It took a few minutes, but eventually he did pull back. His eyes were sad, but he smiled as he ruffled your hair "I'll make you something to eat, okay? Anything you'd like". Your smile brightened, the sight already healing the fear in his heart. "Really? Thank you, papa! As long as that bully doesn't come back..." You huffed. The Recluse chuckled "Don't worry, I think you scared him off. You're very strong". "Yeah!" You agreed confidently, chuckling as your dad helped you stand again "I'll keep you safest!"

"Just stay close to me" he said, squeezing your hand in his "We'll find a way through this... someday"

[rhadamanthes]

PR secret. Eren x reader

warnings: everyone is a bad lover in this execpt maybe eren, age gap, toxic/unhealthy relationship, power dynamics, eren is kind of delusional, face grabbing, hair pulling, arguing, cry baby eren, nipple sucking, cheating, unprotected sex, mommy kink, mention of blackmailing, jealousy, uncorrect use of smartphone, biting, hickeys, mean reader, semi public sex, sex on a desk, breeding kink, praise.

author's note: part two of this work ☆ guys, this was so fun to write i'm kind of proud of this mini serie, it would mean a lot if you let me know what are you thoughts about it, pardon any typos and enjoy!!

word count : 6,9 k

It is 11:34 am and you're only setting foot at the office. A crease set between your brows when the knob twists without resistance. Have you forgotten to lock the door when you left yesterday ? Sighing under your breath you step in regardless, you have lost enough time as it is. 

"Hi" Your head snapped towards the noise. Mikasa Eren and Armin are seated on the floor back resting against your couch. Eren is showing them something on his phone while they are munching on potato chips. 

"Good morning, I didn't realise it was "bring your parents" day today" you remark walking to your desk before dropping your coat and bag hazardly on your chair.  Mikasa and Armin tenses at your words, Eren giggles. Right, they know about your... ambiguous situation. You probably aren't their favorite person at the moment.

"I wanted to show you something but you arrived quite late today"  Eren states, pocketing his phone as he walks towards you. 

"Lily had a doctor's appointment this morning. I wanted to be here, Pixis already knows." You start pressing the power button on your computer only to find out that it is already on too. You exhale sharply through your nose. "Do I want to ask how did you get in there and why are you scattering crumbs all over my floor" 

"No you probably shouldn't, " Eren laughs, patting his hands clean on his denim jeans "Anyway here is what I came for" He fishes a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and gives it to you. 

Opening it you recognize Eren's handwriting, unfortunately you can only make out a few letters, it looks like an anonymous threat letter, you give the paper back to him. 

"Read this out loud I'm not a hieroglyph expert" you grumble, finally sitting down on your chair. 

"Those are ideas for the scene of my upcoming tour" you nod your head, signaling him to continue, your gaze drifting to Eren's friends. They are looking at you but when your eyes meet they precipitately look elsewhere. Great, just great. 

As Eren goes on listing his idea you can't help but think they sounds familiar

"Let me guess, then you want a giant sized jaw as a prop for your entrance ?"

"Yes ! Yes! It's like you read my mind" you roll your eyes snatching the paper from his hands to tear it apart. 

"Those are Porco's ideas, you stole them from my computer, Eren come on! " you scold mustering the sternest look you can. "You need to stop acting childishly, you have your own  artistic direction and universe, draw from it, not from your colleagues' brains please." His shoulders slump as he sits dramatically on the chair opposite to yours. 

"Is there any way I could poach some from-"

"Enough" The room fell silent. It's like he's trying to push over your limits and it is working  ten minutes in, and you already need a smoking break (you don't smoke) "We still have time to think about all of this okay ? The tour doesn't even start until a year and a half" your voice is softer. 

You're not mad at him but you wish he didn't bring the two musketeers with him, you feel spied on. Mikasa and Armin probably already think that you are not a good fit for their friend and here you are lashing out on him. 

"Ok I won't bother you anymore" Eren raises his hand in defense, a satisfied smile on his lips "Just don't be mad at me ok ?" he rises from his seat hunching over the desk to kiss your cheeks, your eyes go wide. 

"Eren!" you whisper yell "We are in public" 

"Who cares ? They know already, I told you"

"Yeah it doesn't mean that I want the rest of the office to know"  He groans, planting another kiss on your cheek before straightening up his back.

"Are you guys ready to go ?" he asks Mikasa and Armin, turning his broad back on you. 

The trio exit the room bidding you farewell. You back hit the chair once you're left alone. Today is going to be a long day. 

And  a long day it was, once you made it home you threw your heels across the room in anger.

"Y/n! Lily is asleep" Erwin deep voice warn you and curse under your breath, fuck. The last thing you need right now is waking up your baby. As he joins  you on the doorstep Erwin's large hand comes to the back of your head, tilting it to face his own. He plants a soft kiss on your forehead before taking your coat and bag from your tensed body. About anything could make you snap right now and he seems to have noticed it, directing you to the couch he places you on his knees. Erwin caresses your thigh in up and down motion before finally addressing your outburst. 

"What happened today ?"  His voice is soothing, you relax against his body more and more before ranting about how much you hate Floch and his stupid face, stupid hair and even more stupid ideas. The reason for his employment is such a mystery to you. He doesn't bring any value to the company. 

Being a lawyer Erwin is currently listing the options you and the company have to get rid of Floch. 

"Or I know someone that could get rid of him nice and clean, no bodies, no traces" you giggle at his joke, hiding your face in his neck.

"I'll keep that option in mind, what about you ? Did Lily eat anything after the appointment ?" 

"A little and then she was being sassy, refused to sleep until 30 minutes ago, that's why I didn't want you throwing your stuff around" he explained, pinching your thigh. 

You whine in his skin as you inhale his strong cologne."I'm sorryyyy" you depose a kiss under his ear to make amends. "Levi is not here ?" you pretend not to feel the way his thigh tenses at the mention of his name. 

"No, he'll be back next week he had to deal with family stuff" 

"I have been meaning to ask, are he and Mikasa related ?"

"Eren's friend ? I know they share a last name so probably to some extent but I don't have much more information. Levi is not very open when it comes to his private life" Erwin states and you nod, it's not like Mikasa is very chatty either, would be a surprise if they were actually related. 

After a moment of silence you straddle his lap fully, to plant your face better in his neck. Erwin's large hands caresses your back,as he kisses your hair.  The last time you were in that position on that very couch, Eren came inside of you, the memories filled your head and you felt wetness rushing to your crotch. What if... What if you had sex with Erwin ? You don't want him to suspect something, and right now the idea of a good fuck is very seducing after the shitty day you had. 

You trail  kisses up his skin until you meet his plump lips. You kiss tentatively and he answers, eagerly, gropping your ass to grind against his groin. The makeout session quickly becomes heated, your wetness pierce through your panties and Erwin bulge throbs more and more as you slide against it. 

You try your best to push down the memories of you and Eren doing the exact same thing at the exact same place only a few days ago. But you can't, Erwin must feel the hesitance in your hips, as he lays your back gently on the couch.

"Let me take care of you" is the last thing you hear before he fucks your brain out, making you forget all about this awful day. Not being in control feels like such a treat sometimes.

⁂

 

The next morning you go to work with a smile on your face, if you happen to have a bad day again Erwin will surely know how to make it better.  That smile fades as soon as you see who is waiting at the door of your office : Armin and Mikasa. 

"Let's not make this a habit shall we ?" you ask sardonically as you unlock the door.

"We need to talk to you" Armin starts, following your steps in the room. 

So he'll do the talking, convincing you to drop their cherished friend  and Mikasa we'll just be a menacing figure in the back ? 

"I am all ears" you flash them a fake smile sitting on the edge of your desk. They exchange a look before Armin starts speaking again.

"We think... you should end things with Eren, this can't be good for his career or... or any of you" he declares with a slight tremor in his voice. 

"Alright and what does Eren think huh ?" a humourless laugh escapes your lips "I'm guessing he doesn't know that you two are here ? " you point a finger at them "I wonder what his reaction would be if he heard about this little intervention." 

"Leave him or we'll tell Erwin" Mikasa's voice cut through the room. Showing a little teeth ? You can deal with that. 

"Is this a feeble attempt at blackmail ? because I'm not shaking in my boots right now, plus Erwin already know about Eren and I. "  A very bold faced lie, if they were ten step closer they would hear how hard your heart is pounding against your ribcage, but you keep your composure, if they don't have leverage against you they'll leave or so you hope. 

"You're not good for him, he deserves someone kind and who cares about him "

"Someone like you ? Because this is where it is going right ? You want to take my place? Breaking news he came onto me not the other way around" her fist clenches at your words and you smile, just a little. 

Mikasa takes a step in your direction but Armin catches her wrist "You're selfish and disgusting you-" you interrupt her speech before she can tell more things you already know about yourself.

"Blah blah blah, get out of my office before I call security. I have to work, not all of us are on holiday. Soon you'll go back to college and Eren will be all mine again" you pause bringing a finger to your lips "Oh, but he always was" you turn your back on them, contouring the desk to sit in your chair. 

They are fuming, initially you wanted to diffuse the situation but are you supposed to lay down on the ground when they insult you in your own office ? Hell no. 

You ignore their presence and the door slam shut a few minutes later. Well...That went well. 

The whole conversation replay in your mind as you tend to your tasks, what if they talk to Erwin ? What if they didn't buy your lie ? Your stomach churn with anxiety, you really should talk with him, tell him the truth you owe in that, after all you didn't wear protection when you cheated on him. Your phone buzzes, speaking of the devil ; it's a text from Eren.

Eren: Lunch here, you can't say no ! 

His location is attached, a secluded restaurant away from the din of the city, sounds nice, you reply with a thumbs up and your phone buzzes again 

           Can't wait ! I miss you!!

Your stomach churn again, you should probably tell him about last night, you owe him that too. 

Lunch break comes around and a cab drops you to the restaurant Eren suggested. You expected him to wait outside for you but knowing him there is a chance that he is late, upon your arrival, the receptionist directs you to a separate room where Eren already awaits you. Your brows raise in surprise and you smile at him, his face light up. 

"I ask them to send the prettiest girl in the world my way, and here you are" he raises to his feet to hug and kiss you. You return his soft gesture inhaling his scent, bleu de chanel, can't go wrong with that one.

It is a Japanese restaurant, the table of the private area is close to the floor, so you have to sit on the ground, Eren guides you down, arms firmly secured around your frame. 

"How was your morning?" he inquired, munching on the edamame displayed on the table. You snort, should you really tell him about your early visitors ? 

"If you must know , Armin and Mikasa came to see me and they want us to break up"  Eren freezes looking at you with eyes round as marbles. You brush his hair backward, planting a kiss on his mouth. "I had sex with Erwin yesterday" Only way out is throught right ? It will hurt less if you break all the news at once. "What about you ?"  Glancing his way you realize you  probably should have used more tact, he is livid. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know how to announce it and I don't want to hide things from you" blinking slowly at you Eren wrapped your body in a tight hug. You call his name growing worried by his silence. 

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told Armin and Mikasa about us, they can't understand what's going on between you and me" you nod along his words and he hugs you again, you feel like his plush toy, the way he squeezes you so tight against him. Is he going to ignore your second revelation ? 

The food comes in, disrupting the moment. Eren parts from you "Oh, yeah I ordered for you is that ok ?" you nod giving him a quick smile as he happily digs in his plate. Picking at the food you think about his reaction, he's possessive and clingy so there is no way he just doesn't care about the fact Erwin had you. 

"Are you pregnant yet ?" Your head turns slowly towards him , horror movie style. 

"Come again ?" you ask in disbelief 

"Last time when we made love, I came inside of you, are you pregnant ?" he must me out of his mind there is no way. 

"I took plan b Eren" the sentence floats in the air his eyes sharpen "I said what I said in the heat of the moment but... I don't want another kid right now and it's the last thing you need too." 

"Did you take plan b with Erwin too or just me ?" he asks with a certain edge to his voice. So that's how he decides to acknowledge it ? The anger rises in you. 

"Took it as well, do you need the proof?" you chew angrily. 

"Since we are telling each other secrets, I want you to know that Erwin is fucking Levi behind your back, I hired a PI and-" You don't let him the time to finish his sentence, having no patience left in you today.

"You did what ?"  the whole restaurant probably heard you, but you couldn't care less. You grab his jaw to give him no choice but to look you in the eyes. "Who asked you to do that ? I did ?" The questions are rhetorical. Eren shakes his head left to right looking at you with his puppy eyes. You unhand his jaw, returning your attention to your plate.  It's not like you never suspected anything but the fact that Eren dipped his nose into it, makes you unreasonably mad.

"Forget it, it's whatever"  you sigh, he probably didn't do it with bad intentions. "When did you find out ?" 

"After we made love, when I got back to my place I contacted a guy we know with Zeke."  Made love, those words again if it was up to you you'll call it what it was : "sex" or "a pretty decent fuck" maybe his friends were right, maybe you don't deserve him.  From the corner of your eyes you see him pushing his food around the plate. 

"Come here" you start with a soft voice as you pull your shirt up, with your other hand you bring his head toward your chest. It is a peace offering that you hope he'll take. Eren sniffles a bit before locking his arms around your waist, his head resting against your belly, hot tears run down from his eyes to your skin. 

"I'm sorry mommy, I didn't want to make you mad" he sobs before covering the exposed tit with his mouth. Caress his long hair, you reassure him as you stare at the wall in front of you. 

You really need to have a chat with Erwin...

It is part of the reason you took the long way home, you picked your favorite desserts in case of a really big crisis. The scent of onions cooking fills your nose and you hum in pleasure. 

Toeing off your boots and coat, you make your way to the kitchen, dropping the takeout bag on the central island. 

"Welcome back" Erwin sing song voice when he turns around from the stove, smiling at you.

You smile back, stacking the food container in the fridge. 

"Erwin, can we talk ?" your voice is barely above the noise of the sizzling onions. After turning the stove off Erwin gives you his full attention, Icy eyes boring into your soul, you almost want to give up. 

"I know about you and Levi." you figured that this will temper his anger when you tell him about Eren and you, his face remains impassible. "I had sex with Eren" His thick eyebrows shot up and he took a seat on the stool of the counter.  

"I haven't been honest with you, I apologize" you nod, playing with your fingers nervously, waiting for the second part of his answer. "Did you have sex with Eren because you found out for me and Levi ?" It's not the question that you expected, you shake your head left to right.

"We had sex and then he did his research on you" He nods and silence fills the room "It was a few weeks ago, I'm sorry i've been wanting to tell you, but I was scared and I felt guilty too" Erwin reached for your hands over the counter. 

"It's ok, I know it's not a competition but I guess we're even then ?" A laugh escapes your lips and he smiles at you. "I always protect myself with Levi, there was a time where he used his body to earn money, it's not recent but still" Your eyebrows shot in surprise. Levi seems more like the type of person to be a hitman rather than a prostitute, but once again you don't know him that well, clearly. "Did you use protection with Eren ?"  

You shamefully tell him the truth and he tilts his head to the side in a disapproving manner. "It wasn't planned!" is all you muster to say, heat rising to your heeks, you feel like a teenager all over again. 

So Levi really had him huh ? looking at his broad frame you can't help but think about what would their intercourse look like. Does Levi bite his neck like you do, scratch his back, pull his hair when it is getting too much ? Your gaze falls on his lips.

"Is it weird if I want to kiss you ?" 

"I'm all yours" 

Your lips met in a soft kiss, the confrontation went better than you could imagine, the confirmation of his affair with your housekeeper makes your blood boil a bit. Erwin should only belong to you, he said it himself. You grab his collar pulling him closer, when the echoes of distant cries ring in your ears.  

Lily! 

"Perfect timing" you mutter after breaking the kiss "I got this" without a second glance his way, you rush up the stairs to calm your baby. 

As you sit across Erwin, you avoid any eye contact,  the confrontation went well, but now, now it feels weird. The cutlery scraping the plates fills the silence.

"Are we bad parents ?" you ask finally, clearly none of you were really phased by the secrets that aired out but it's not just you and him anymore in this family.

The question catches him off guard, his impassible eyes growing slightly bigger. "Well, I wouldn't say the situation is ideal, but as long as it stays between us it could work, don't you think ?" you nod digging in your plate some more.  "Lily is still a baby, we are present for her and she doesn't have to know about this right ? It is between you and me " he has a point. 

                                                      ⁂

 

You: Please tell me you're on your way, or at least awake

         Ereeeeeeeeen

         You're still mad at me because of yesterday ? 

         I'll apologize again if this is what you want

         Just hurry up please we can't afford to be late today

This is just a sample of all the text you have sent Eren in the past minutes, He was supposed to be there ten minutes ago already, and he is nowhere to be found. You bite the skin of your thumb anxiously when the door opens on none other than Eren. You shot up from your chair to meet him. He's holding craft bags in his right hand one in his mouth, left hand carrying a tray of styro cup coffees. So this is the reason he is late, a smile spreads on your face as you take the paper bag from between his teeth.

"I know I know I'm late, but I figured we better face that day with food first" he prompts, kissing your cheek as he walks to your desk depositing the generous amount of food he brought in. 

"That's very nice" you say, dropping the smaller bag next to his "I brought some too, It's homemade" you brag, tapping the pink tupperware neatly placed on your desk. His eyes go wide. 

"Don't tell me it's your blueberry pancakes ?" you nod, smiling proudly "With the vanilla whipped cream ?" another nod, he groans letting his body rest on the spare chair, you have placed next to yours before hand. 

An obnoxious moan escapes his lips when the scent of your cooking hits his nose, you chuckles at his theatrics, sitting next to him. Eren happily pigs the food down, occasionally turning your way to smile at you. It is contagious seeing him like that, happy with a smile that makes his beautiful eyes crinkle, you wished to see him this carefree and genuine all the time unfortunately it isn't possible, especially these days and it is why you are here today. 

A smear campaign against Eren is going on, as expected the cover of his album was judged too provocative, borderline blasphemy by the conservatives. The fact that Eren linked one of the many articles badmouthing him in his instagram story, followed by a picture of him,  shirtless, middle finger raised and a rosary pressed against his lips did nothing to appease the tension.

As a fan it made you smile, as a manager you had to confiscate his phone until further notice. 

Today's meetings are about crisis communication. Zackley brought up the possibility of a cover change, you'll fight against it, you need a united front and clear positions, not to bend the knee at the slightest criticism. 

"Did you talk with Erwin ?" Eren asks out of the blue, sputtering food all over himself. You roll your eyes grabbing a napkin to dap him clean.

"Yes actually, and we almost had sex again" 

"Yeah ? what stopped you then ?"

"Lily started crying. I had to go check on her" the corner of Eren's mouth spread in a wolfish grin.

"See ? That proves to me that you'll be an awesome mom to our kids" he declares kissing the back of your hand as his emerald eyes bore into yours. 

That is denial if you ever saw it. 

Your heart squeezes in your chest, no matter how many times you try to make him understand that this can't happen; the idea  is still engraved deep in his mind. What will finally make him realise you two don't have a future together ? Just yesterday he cried because of you, again. You need to do something about him.

If Eren loves you, really loves you the way he says, he'll hate you when you're done with him.

Retrieving your hand from his hold you flash him a quick smile before returning your attention to your monitor. 

Pros of breaking his heart into a million pieces : possibly he'll craft the best album of his career, people love pain and hearing about it. His fans will dig the corners of the internet trying to know who he is talking about; more engagement. Keeping a share of mystery is always good  when being a public personality. 

Cons : you'll lose him forever. He's not much of a forgiving person, there is a chance his fans connect the dots.  Guilt will most likely haunt you for the rest of your life. 

Before you can process any more thoughts, Isabel enters your office letting you know that the whole team is waiting for you and Eren in the meeting room. 

⁂

Stop dating (?) Eren Yeager 

Pros :

Not having to lie anymore

No more guilt

He acts even more like a child ever since I gave in

I need a partner that know how and when to take control

Calls me mommy

Feel like I'm betraying Zeke and he's one of my oldest friends

Cries easily

His friends hate me 

I'm scared of deuxmoi

Ending this situation before it becomes a fiasco

Wants to impregnate me 

Cons: 

He's my baby

I'll lose a really good friend

Probably lose my job too

Having to find a new agent 

Calls me mommy

Everybody wants him but I have him 

Cries easily 

His friend we'll hate me even more 

He'll be sad 

I'll feel bad

A lot of good memories together

Very emotional his reaction could be bad

 

Tapping the pen on your cheek you realise that making an extended list of pros and cons doesn't really help you, you're still torn on what's the right thing to do, a tired sigh escapes your lips. Maybe you'll see clearer tomorrow ? You grumble, hiding the piece of paper in your cd drawer under Eren's albums, a bit ironic, you chuckle, pushing it close. 

⁂

 

It is a rare occurrence for the company to hold parties at the office itself. The news of Eren breaking his own record with his new album came at the last minute, so you all didn't have a choice.  It is a celebration for both his record and to rejoice about the non success of the smearing campaign. 

Everyone around you is euphoric or piss drunk, some of the employees went home already.You had two glasses of champagne, not enough to make you drunk but enough to make the noise around you unbearable. Isolating yourself in your office you take off your heels, leaning on your desk, when you notice that your Cd's drawer is open. 

"Care to explain this ? " Eren crosses the room as he  wiggles a piece of paper in front of you, you can't make out what document it is, so you grab his wrist, to be able to read the content. "I act like a child ?"

Your body freezes, it is your pro / con list that you made about leaving him. Your eyes travel slowly to his. He is smiling ? You half expected him to cry about it if you are being honest, His eyes are telling another story though. He looks on the verge of a breakdown

"Where did you find this ?" 

"I think you should be worried about other things right now" his tone is calm, too calm, he deposits the sheet on the nearby desk as he traps you against it, beefy arm on each side of your body. "I don't know why you fight this so badly, but you are not leaving me, not as my manager, not as my lover, not now, not ever." 

You try to think about an answer that could make him see reasons, but he's too far gone, you lay a hand on his chest, pushing softly but he doesn't budge. 

"Eren you-"

"No, you will not whizzle in my brain trying to convince me that this is for the best, actually I think it is time for everyone to know about this" pinning your wrists in one of his large hands he fishes his phone out of the back of his denim jeans. 

Fuck, fuck fuck what the hell is he going to do ? You need to get that phone far away from him now. Attempting to break free from his hold you use your sweetest voice to convince him to stop whatever he is doing. It is useless. He is way too concentrated on his phone, after a moment he looks up to you and smiles, turning the screen your way. 

You gulp, hard. It is a  close up picture of you and him, He is behind you, arm over your shoulder displaying a large watch  as his chin rests on top of your head. Your mouth is pursed in a duck face and you're winking at the camera your hand is englobing his to showcase your watch as well . You remember that day or rather that night very clearly. A tag Heuer dinner party everyone was required to wear their product, that is why the picture is cropped to show only your faces and matching wrists  

Those were much simpler times, no baby, no man waiting for you at home, no love confession or PI, just booze and a comfortable lifestyle. 

The picture could be incriminating enough  as it is but Eren decided to add a caption in fine white letters, four simple words that leave no room for imagination.   

Love of my life 

The breath is knocked out of your lungs.

"Eren you can not post this, I'm serious"  he is still smiling at you, a unhinged glimmer in his eyes 

"Really ? It is only a click away though" he teases hovering his thumb over the post button. Your heart skips a beat. Is he really about to do it ? His lips meet your cheek "You always tell me to be honest with my fans, to talk to them to create the link, it is what i'm doing they deserve to know you" Oh so that's the day he decided to listen to your advice ? It has to be a joke. You're about to give him a piece of your mind when he presses the button. Your jaw goes slack. 

The smartphone he still holds up in his hand doesn't stop buzzing. He really did it."Look at that they're asking so many questions already, they love you"  One of his feet snake between yours, pushing to part your legs.  Locking his phone, Eren sticks it between your legs. The non stop vibration makes you gasp and you squeal against him. 

"Eren stop!" your head falls against his chest, whether the fans are happy or not about this news it's the same to you, their vibrations makes you writhe against him. 

"When you're done, I'll show them your pussy and you'll say thanks" the buzzing slows down enough for you to regain your composure, you look up to him. 

"You need to delete that right now baby, please do it for me" he shakes his head left to right

"Just enjoy the ride mommy" he whispers, spreading your legs wider to intensify the pressure on your clit, as if his fan heard him the buzzing kicks off again with a renewed vigor. Your mouth opens and closes multiple times without letting a single sound out. 

This is so filthy, you can't believe it is happening right now,  A sick part of you enjoys it, the people blowing up his phone would die for him, pay millions just to be in his presence, kill just to get a glimpse of him and yet you are the one with all the privileges. You bite your lips, grinding slowly against the buzzing device.

"That's right, let them know how good they're making you feel" Eren voice guides you and you allow yourself to moan out loud. The tireless buzzing is making you slowly lose our mind, you beg Eren to kiss you, and he does. Your wrists are still pinned behind your back, you wiggle trying to break free from his grasp but he bites your lips hard. 

Looks like he decided to take control today, more heat rushes to your pussy, it's pretty hot.  A few more notifications and you unravel against his smartphone. Your body convulses against his and a silent cry travels from your mouth to his. Once your body stills, Eren breaks the kiss and throws his phone somewhere on the floor. Fuck it's out of reach. 

"Don't even think about it" his teeth sink in your cheeks, you gasp. Releasing your wrist Eren starts to unbuckle his belt. You could try and make a run for his phone but his strong body still has you caged against the desk. A heaviness against your pussy gets your attention.

"Where should I put this ?" Eren taunts, slapping his dick on your clit, the soaked underwear still covering it creates a sinful sound that echoes around the room. 

"I don't know, is it your first time ?" you raise an eyebrow at him and he grunts, flipping you around, you are now facing away from him, hands flat on the desk. making a quick work of your panty Eren enters your pussy without warning. Your back arches and you gasp in shock. 

"Is it yours?" he grumbled, pumping messy thrusts inside your wet walls. You smile craning your head sideways to meet his eyes, it's so easy to get him where you want. 

"Are you mad at me baby ?" you pout, throwing your hips back on his cock. "You know you can't stay mad for long"  your eyes drop down to where you body meets, your ass ripple at your combined efforts, emitting a sticky wet sound. 

"I'm about to make you sound stupid" Eren threatens, quickening his pace. The desk shake under the rhythmic way your body collides against it. 

You close your eyes in delight, you don't know if it is your teasing comment or the need to prove he can be enough for you, but each stroke is making you see the stars. 

"My gooood Eren"

Sliding his fingers in your mouth, Eren forces it open "Say that you're mine" he rasps against your ears. You ignore his request, twirling your tongue around his fingers sucking them deeper between your lips. "Say it" he repeats with a harsh thrust against your spot. 

"ngh-fuck" is all you manage to left out,  his frustartion must be through the roof now, pulling out completely, Eren makes you face him again before splaying you out flat on the desk. His hair as slightly disheveled, no doubt from all the effor he's been putting into fucking you. The emerald eyes you're used to are a shade deeper, your pussy must be doing a real number on him. Folding your legs against your torso Eren enters you again and you let out a low moan. 

"Say it or I'll call Erwin, show him how good I have you" he's dead serious, but you're not scared one bit.

"Baby, you can't blackmail people when you're ball deep inside of them" you coo, purposely clenching your cunt around his cock, Eren closes his eyes letting out a pathetic moan. "Exactly, now make me cum if you can, and I will reward you" 

He bottoms out completely inside of you, gracing you with deep and slow thrust, just how you like. A satisfied moan flys your lips and you let your hands up to mess with his hair, you twist and pull his dark locks, admiring his face contorting in pain. You smile at him, putting up with every snap of his hips against yours. 

"Does it hurt ?" you taunt, he shakes his head left to right, so you pull tighter, he hisses. 

"I can take it" he grits through his teeth, of course he can, he'll take whatever you give him. 

"Do you love me Eren ?" you already know the answer, you just looove how receptive he is to your words, to your voice.  Upon hearing your question his eyes soften, and his dick twitches inside of you, bingo. 

"I-I love you so much" he breathes, his hips stutters and you hold back a chuckle.

"Can you go faster Eren ?" you ask, still using the sweet voice he likes so much. It's not about your pleasure or his. It is about knowing you are still in control, even if he's the one on top today, even if he threw a little tantrum earlier. The snap of his hips accelerates, and you scratch his scalp lightly with your nails. "Good boy" 

The more the fat tip of his cock pushes your spongy walls, the more your toes curl besides his face. The new angle of your legs makes you feel everything thrice more, looking down at your tummy, you can see the outline of his penis going in and out of you, fuck. 

Taking one of his hands you press it against the bulge. Eren grunts like a caveman and you wonder if he's ever experienced such pleasure with his previous conquests, the thought makes you upset, pushing his neck closer you sink your teeth hard in the flesh biting and sucking until you know he'll be marked as yours. 

"God you're so hot" he murmurs next to your ear "You're perfect for me" he grunts grabbing your jaw to force you back onto the desk. His digits push your head to the side. "we're going to match" is all he says before attacking your neck. 

"Eren!" you squeal trying to push him off, it is a thing that you mark him, another that he marks you. Huffing against your skin Eren brings a hand to your mouth, as he keeps on bullying your insides. 

His warm tongue draws circles over the spot he bites and a shiver runs down your spine, he is skilled with his tongue, he proved it before and your neck is very sensitive.

The heat shared between your bodies grow almost unbearable, you cry behind his hand, begging for him to make you cum, you feel it in your toes, as a rush of electricity, in your belly as a swarming sensation, you are tethering over the edge you just need a little bit more to fall completely.

A precise snap of his hips makes you shut down, whole body clamping down on him. 

"That's right mommy let it all out" he rasps, grinding his throbbing cock inside of you. "I'm going to fill you up, this time I'll get you pregnant I promise" On cue, his seed spills inside of you, you hum lowly, the sensation has always been pleasant to you, the aftermath not so much. 

The panting in your neck slowly dies down and Eren straighten his back, standing tall and proud on top of you

Eren's mouth goes over your ankles, kissing them lovingly as he lets your legs rest by the side of his hips, the rest after being folded for so long makes you grunt. 

Getting down on his knees, Eren admires his seed drooling out of your puffy hole, collecting the strays with his fingers, he pushes them back inside. When he's done, he moves on to your legs, massaging the back of your thighs. You give him instruction about where to put the pressure and he follows obediently.

"Tell me, was it on your private account that you posted ?" you ask sitting up on the desk.

He's avoiding your eye contact, still focused on the kneading of your thigh. You know him far too well; you train him far too good. He'll never jeopardize you. In a fit of rage, he might create a scandal, but never if it could seriously hurt your career. Eren is way too possessive to show you to the whole world anyway. A smile spread on your lips, and you pet his hair. It's even better if you think that it was the same friends that hate you who made you cum. 

"Good boy"

[venusbyline]

HEY VENUS!!!

I just wanted to know,how was Jace and readers childhood like in nine moons? I mean,just give some canons about some scenarios or events that happen. Just like a very short drabble, because I'm straight up surviving on crumbs on nine moons🥹 please,just give in this once🙏

I LOVE YOU VE! I'm very proud of you! Just continue in college🩷

Jacaerys Velaryon — Nine Moons.

Scenario: What was Jace and his twin sister's childhood/adolescence like?

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— headcanon of Nine Moons (it can't be read as a standalone scenario)

— type: fluff, suggestive content (but nothing really graphic), angst

— tags/warnings: female!reader, dark!Jacaerys, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), childhood memories, threats of rape (BUT NOT REALLY), wet dreams, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, sexism, jealousy, past underage sex, minor cousin incest, minor Jacaerys Velaryon/Baela Targaryen, minor uncle/niece incest, minor Aemond Targaryen/reader, pre-Nine Moons events, canon divergence (Pre-The Dance of the Dragons). no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: HEYYYY SWEETIE, LUV UUU ❤️❤️ tysmmm for your ask, I had put Nine Moons on a brief hiatus due to my college stuffs, but now your messages made me wanna start writing this series again when my bimonthly exams are over at the beginning of June. Delving a little deeper into the characters' childhood stories was amazing, because I think Nine Moons Jacaerys was a lovely child in the past, but he also always had a dark side inside in that time anyway. Btw... I'll answer your other ask too 🤭🤭❤️❤️ I'm just waiting for a bit of free time so I can write that right.

— author's notes²: This scenario is part of Nine Moons universe and it's necessary to read the series first. It's a Dead Dove fic and has REALLY dark content.

— author's notes³: I'm thinking about writing more scenarios or random one-shots involving Nine Moons universe, maybe the pre-events of the series or events between the fic's time breaks/skips that I didn't write about. Please tell me on my inbox what do you guys wanna see about it 🥺🥺

❥ Nine Moons masterlist • Jacaerys masterlist • HOTD masterlist

❥ about me • main masterlist

• Jacaerys had always been very close to his twin sister since their early years. He was almost glued to her almost all the time, claiming that she needed to be protected by him.

• The dragon egg that was placed on Jace's sister's crib did not hatch when they were six years old. Anyway, he always tried to show her that she was not inferior to the rest of the family because of that, then he would often take her to the Dragon Pit and let her pet Vermax.

• Speaking about dragons... That was what made Jacaerys' twin sister get closer to their uncle Aemond. Both of them did not have dragons and they were somewhat introvert people, while Jace preferred Aegon to Aemond, since the older one was funnier and more interesting before his eyes.

• Jace was always jealous of his twin sister's closeness to Aemond, even though they were just children at that time. He was suspicious of Aemond's feelings, because he was four years older than him and his sister.

• He was also very angry when Rhaenyra suggested betrothing him to Helaena and his sister to Aemond. At first, Alicent was wary about those ideas and said that Helaena would already marry Aegon, but she eventually accepted the second suggested alliance. When Jacaerys found out about this, he ended up taking his anger out on his twin by refusing to cuddle with her during the night. Also, he made her cry by lying that when she got a little older and the wedding day arrived, Aemond would hurt her during the bedding ceremony. Although his sister knew nothing about sex at that age, Jacaerys had heard details of many perverted things Aegon told him in secret, so he told her how everything would happen. Telling her that the deflowering act would hurt too much, and Aemond would not stop to fuck her cunt even if she begged to... That was the first time Jace had been truly cruel to his sweet sister — he apologized later, though, covering the little girl with sweet kisses and taking her to the Dragonpit.

• During the childhood, Jace had not wanted to marry anyone other than his twin, and the thought of losing her to his uncle was depressing, filling his heart with rage.

• His sister always enjoyed watching him and Lucerys spar with Aegon and Aemond, even though the Velaryon boys were so young and did not know how to fight properly. He stopped letting her watch their training when he noticed that Ser Criston looked at her with disgust, just as he looked at Luke and him everyday.

• Jacaerys hated the Courtiers looking at the little girl and whispering about her legitimacy. He could handle all of that if the gossips about bastardy were only about him, but everyone also whispered about her, Lucerys, and Joffrey. He always tried to make his siblings, especially his twin sister, not notice the mocking or curious gazes.

• Despite joining Aegon and Luke to play pranks on Aemond and tease him about the fact that he did not have a dragon yet, Jace would not allow Aegon to say something like that about his twin.

• Actually, Jacaerys felt ashamed of himself whenever she found out about the pranks and got mad at him, arms crossed and a pretty pouty face that took hours to get better. After the morning of the pink dread, on Aemond's tenth name day, she ran crying to their shared chambers because Aemond did not want to talk to her for a while because he was angry with her brothers. Of course Jace welcomed his sister and apologized for causing that sudden argument between her and Aemond, but inside he was relishing the fact that they were distancing themselves from each other, even if only temporarily.

• When Laena Velaryon died, Jace wondered what it would be like if his sister tried to claim Vhagar. He knew how much she wanted a dragon, but at the same time he did not want her to have a dragon so much bigger than his, it would be humiliating. However, that thought was put aside when he remembered that Rhaena, Laena's and Daemon's daughter, did not have a dragon either. Deep down he knew that his twin would not want to disturb their cousin's dream. Anyway, that did not go as expected either, since Aemond claimed Vhagar before Rhaena had the chance.

• After all the fight at Driftmark, Jace and his sister became very protective of Luke, due to everything that happened, he was like a baby to the two of them.

• When they moved to Dragonstone, she kept sending letters to Aemond, to make sure that her uncle was not directly angry with her, even though Alicent and Rhaenyra had already broken off their betrothal.

• At Dragonstone, Jacaerys' twin sister usually spent most of the time with her younger siblings when Jace was busy training with Lucerys or flying with Baela and their dragons. She also sometimes spent time with Rhaena.

• Rhaenyra usually paid more attention to her first son than to her daughter, but the girl did not seem to mind it too much, because at least she did not have so many responsibilities and could just read or spend time in the gardens.

• They loved walking on the sand near the sea and watching the sky. He liked the day better and she liked the night better, so Jace would joke that he was the moon and she was the sun, because they both liked each other.

• Jace called her little sister, sweet girl, Idaña (twin) and Hāedar (younger sister). Sometimes Ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved) too, if Rhaenyra or Daemon were not around.

• They slept together in the same chambers until they were twelve, as their bodies began to change and Jace found himself having dirty dreams about his sister. It did not help that she always insisted on shared the same bed too, lying in his arms or cuddling in spoon position. When she had her first blood moon, Rhaenyra immediately ordered that their chambers should be separate, which left them both frustrated.

• Jace began spending a lot of time with Baela, then which resulted in the loss of his virginity, her feelings for him and a slight distance between Jace and his sister, who never seemed to really like their cousin, perhaps out of jealousy.

• Even if Jacaerys was spending more time with Baela or Lucerys, he always took one day a week to dedicate himself completely to his twin sister, mad at himself for never being able to stop his obsession and love for her either way.