#ill live where i want and never talk to them again
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butchdykenormallen · 1 year ago
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arts-i-enjoy · 9 months ago
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AHHHHHH
#this post brought to you by: me#i. applied for a preapproval letter for a mortgage yesterday. and spoke to a realtor to start finding me houses#i want to move several states away which further complicated things. but the houses there are CHEAP#like under 100k for a 2 bedroom move in ready#anyways i got approved for 80k with a 20k down payment. and im FREAKING THE FUCK OUT#and because i got that pre app letter i have a loan officer calling me today to talk#and we literally work at the same bank so i can SEE that hes active and hasnt read my message#even though its been 45 minutes. KEVIN MESSAGE ME BACK. IM NOT GONNA BE ABLE TO FOCUS UNTIL I DO THIS CALL#AHHHHHHH S C R E A M. it might happening!!!! i might be finally.mov8ng out in a few months!!!#i mgiht be a HOMEOWNER by the end of the year#i have been saving money for this since i was. 16? 17?#ive had a good well paying job since i was 18.#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#once i have a house then i start job searching in that area. and start getting really serious about LEAVING my very good job#which is soooo scary. this job was supposed to be my lifelong career. but then everyone fucking moved to other states and left me behind#so theres no point staying here.#i might never have this kind of job security again.#but also my realtor said that theres a lot of bank jobs in that area so maybe itll be easy to find something#on the fence on if i tell my parents that im Making Moves right now#on one hand its hard to not talk about it becuae im STRESSED TF OUT#but on the other hand when i tentatively mentioned the state i want to move to#richard started yelling and swearing el oh el#might be better to wait and avoid the tension as long as possible?#but also i dont know how they can stay angry when its literally my best option#the other places where my friends live either have 0 opportunity and high housing prices. or are even moe liberal than where im going#idk. why do half of my problems come down to “my parents will be mad” like im a 12 year old or something. shit fucking sucks#this is why i want to get out of here#also it feels weird and bad to talk to my friends about how stressed i am about buying a house when all of them are stressed about#not being able to make rent or something. my problems feel like a brag in a really odd and shitty way. but hey!#if this works out maybe ill start being stressed about how im going to make my mortgage payments! :') yay!
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year ago
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Me when I want to be wanted more than anything else
#I think I’d be more normal if I had more friends but every friend I lose makes me isolate more and more and now it’s like I can only trust#people I’ve interacted with for years already#and then every time I try to make friends I either don’t respond (anxiety. not feeling a vibe. whatever) or they stop responding when I#actually like them (someone who talked to me for like four days in an row and then randomly blocked me no explanation)#I think if I made more friends or even talked to more people I’d understand how to do it successfully but I don’t have enough experience and#no one wants to be friends with me (and it’s scary when they do!!!) wahhhhhhhhhh#I need to move somewhere new and talk to strangers I’m good at that#I made more friends a a concert age 14 than I have from me the ages of 16-19 and i think that’s ridiculous#how do I explain to everyone ever that nothing bad happened to me I’m just mentally ill bc my hormones are fucked and it’s let me to spiral#and ruin my own life and then slowly painfully build my life back up and then crush it all again over and over again for years and years#to the point where I’m afraid I’ll never amount to anything so the idea of ever truly having people who find any value for me in their lives#feels like it’s fake and then when I do finally trust people I end up loving too hard and fucking it up and then I isolate for even longer#it’s takes me twice as long to find a new friend and trust them again and then it happens all over again#it feels like I’m destined to be alone bc I can’t tell the difference between platonic shit and flirting so I have a wall between me and#everyone else bc I’m afraid to like someone too much and confuse my brain bc I don’t ever want to like someone who doesn’t like me even if#it’s as friends bc I’ve put more effort in than other ppl always but it’s bc I put too much effort in and expect too much and no one else#is as weirdly obsessive and clingy and dedicated as I am bc I’m not normal and that’s why no one likes me bc I try too hard or not at all#and it makes everyone in my life family friends crushes whatever hate me bc I’m all or nothing forever I can’t just be normal#I think a lifetime of living with my mother has permanently damaged the way I see myself#who are all these normal ideal people in my brain why did my mother put them there and why will I always be worse than a hypothetical person#designed to shame me for struggling which gets louder the more I struggle#spirals cycles etc etc etc#ugh. I want my brain to turn off I’m gonna go take a dab and maybe delete this later
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nomairuins · 3 months ago
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sighhhhh made an entire schedule for an imaginary 3mo baby. and wrote down a bunch of notes about how to take care of my imaginary 3mo baby. but then i got rly sad bc i started writing notes about how im going to be working 8 hours a day 5 days a week during the majority of the babys awake time and now im a bit sad . whatever
#Im not having a baby anytime soon i just like planning and researching and thinking about my imaginary baby that i might never actually have#makes me so happy#i do have a disease where i just cant fathom Another person being there. so if there is thats gonna muck up my schedule potentially...#but. i think daycare is a good option if i can find a nice one that i can afford. hooooopefully by the time i have a baby ill have a good#paying job and obviously if there is another parent thatll help with like. money and stuff#sigh idk im trying not to think abt it more but my little momey earlier reaffirmed to me idk if im ever actually going to be able to be in#romantic relationship and that might be for the best. and also idk im just very paranoid that even if i do magically get uncrazy and fall i#love with somebody and im well adjusted enough to have a kid likee. what if they end up being abusive or neglectful of the baby. you know.#its one of my biggest fears obviously id like. talk In depth abt having kids w them before we have kids and wed work out plans and schedule#together but im just very paranoid basically. but. it doesnt actually matter bc this is all imaginary and Again might not even happen.#im also. hrmm. bc obv a big costsaver daycare wise would be having my parents watch the baby if im living in the same area. however#i have very very specific rules for how ill interact with my baby and i dont know if i trust. my parents. to interact with them the right w#like mainly when they get older one of my big things is that i never ever ever want to yell at my baby i never want to like. yk. i dont wan#to Snap or get angry ik its normal to get overwhelmed and overstimulated but i dont want my kid(s) to like. see me being overwhelmed or#upset w them. you know. but i dont know if i can trust my parents not to snap at my kid . yk. not that i dont want them to meet my kids i#i love my parents despite All that but. idk if id be comfortable leaving my kid alone with them the majority of the day.... yk. maybe#weekend visits once the kids older but i will be Sitting my parents down and Lecturing them . abt how to treat my kid#ik ppl r usually better as grandparents than as parents tho. so hopefully they like. idk. im just very paranoid abt if i do get to have kid#if i do reach a place where i can have kids and take care of them properly like i rly rly want to im rly worried abt like. i just want my#kids to be happy and welladjusted and have a good life And well see this is part of the reason im not ready for kids is bc i place too many#expectations on them already. and i shouldnt go into having a child w a savior complex i shouldnt have a kid for the gratification of#being the one to give the kid a good life. not that i shouldnt want to give the kid a good life but like. you know what i mean. i shouldnt#have a kid just so i can vicariously live out a happy childhood through them. you know. which i fear might be what im subconsciously doing
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rfks-brain-worms · 9 months ago
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Never use Surfshark VPN
I just wanted to make this post to warn yall about it, I am not a tech genius but I wanted to get a vpn and surfshark was one I knew about so i subscribed to them because it seemed ok, that was where I fucked up.
fast forward a year and now I am trying to cancel my yearly auto-renewing subscription which costs 70 fuckin bucks, didnt find much use in surfshark as it was too laggy when using its vpn services so i go to billing and try to cancel.
there was no cancel button so that was odd, and you cant turn off auto-renew so i figure ill just get rid of my card info so it cant charge me.
i cant or at least i cant figure out how.
I go to help and find the cancellation area after scrolling past why you should keep the subscription and it tells me to contact their live support to cancel, It requires my name and gmail, I know for a fact my gmail is correct but it says its wrong and that my name is wrong no matter how many ways I enter it and I cant find a possible username anywhere on the site i could use. Its for all practical reasons impossible for me to cancel, not just the fact I cant even talk to customer support, but the people on reddit that do, talk to a bot and then the agents take months to actually turn off the subscription so it charges again and there is no refunds.
dont use surfshark VPN
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landoughnut · 2 months ago
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Nurse He's Out Again
♡ masterlist - request!
♡ pairing - lando norris x fem!reader (fc - brooke shields :)
♡ summary - just lando thirsting on the main and giving being a pr nightmare, also him fighting for his life in the comments
♡ warnings - horny/simp lando, crack, some fluff, some cursing, one kms mention
♡ w/c & a/n - smau | wanted to do a social media one cause i love reading them so much so here we are! i really love this actually so i hope you enjoy xoxo
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landonorris FIRST liked by yourusername
landonorris holy shit baby 😍🥵
landonorris please date me fhsusnygds 😻💍
yourusername already am my love 💗
username WOWWW
kendalljenner stunning bestfriend 💋
yourusername love you 😘
username lando having her notifs on is so cute 🥹
username im in love with you.
landonorris NO I AM. STAY AWAY 😡
username LANDO LMAOAO
vogue 🤍 liked by yourusername
maxverstappen1 🔥📸
yourusername thanks max ☺️
maxverstappen1 someone tell me how lando's dating her
landonorris HEY 😟
charles_leclerc real max
yourusername the real question is how did i get so lucky with him!!
landonorris SHHH BABY NEVER SAY THAT 😣
adele my darling you look beautiful 🩷
yourusername i love youuu mother adele 💗
landonorris IM DATING AN ANGEL WOW PLEASE MARRY ME
yourusername i love you so much 😭
landonorris CBGHNCHD I LOVE YOU MOST BABY 🥰😍☺️
oscarpiastri lando fell to his knees in a walmart parking lot
landonorris can you blame me?? 🛐🛐🛐
username no we cant lando
landonorris it was a rhetorical question 👺
carlossainz55 my favorite model 🙏 liked by yourusername
username can lando fight?? 🥵🤤
landonorris YES GET AWAY SHOO 🤺
georgerussell63 bro can notttt fight
landonorris fuck you george
landonorris I CAN RUN YOU OVER INSTEAD
mclaren lando norris we're having a meeting this afternoon
mclaren looking absolutely stunning 🧡
yourusername love you admin 💋
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landonorris FIRST liked by yourusername
landonorris DAMNNN BABY COME HOME AND KISS ME
username oh no..
landonorris ON MY NO NO SQUARE
oscarpiastri the second hand embarrassment i have rn
alexandrasaintmleux what 😟 yourusername ill save you bae
landonorris get me pregnant. 🫃
mclaren no we need you in racing conditions
landonorris you need me? that sounds familiar 😏🛌
maxverstappen1 MY EYES 🤢
mclaren REPLYING TO MYYYY COMMENT???
oscarpiastri ON MYY PHONE??
yourusername osc look away 😨
ladygaga so pretty 🤩 liked by yourusername
username 😻😍
landonorris get these heart eyes OUTTA HERE
yourusername BABY STOP HARASSING PEOPLE IN MY COMMENTS
landonorris "baby" 😍 anything for u wifey 🛐
billieeilish so fineee bby
landonorris SCRAM BILLIE
yourusername ILYY BILLIEEE 🤍
username lando is fighting for his LIFE 😭
username lando trying not to simp challenge level impossible
landonorris GUESS WHO SHE WAS SMILING AT YALLLLLLLL
yourusername i love you 💗 im always smiling with you 💖
landonorris I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BABY FUCKING HELL
username you guys are the cutest to exist
carlossainz55 yeah until you hear them talk about each other 25/8
landonorris shut up carlos your just jealous
georgerussell63 you're*
landonorris 🖕🖕
harrystyles gorgeous
landonorris bye.
landonorris i cant compete with harry 😨
landonorris GUYS DONT LET HER SEE THIS
charles_leclerc too late i just heard a scream from the living room where she is with alex
yourusername HARRY OH MY GOSH HELLO I LOVE YOU JEHXBUYTNEGBYGYGXE
landonorris im going to kms. someone pick my casket now. he broke my girl.
mclaren our favorite girl 🧡
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yourusername FIRST liked by landonorris
username im obsessed with them being first for each other 🥹
yourusername LANDO PLEASE I CANT 😭
landonorris THE WORLD NEEDS TO SEE YOURE WITH MEE
charles_leclerc NAHHHH LANDO
oscarpiastri MY EYESS
yourusername IM SORRY OSC BBY
landonorris dont call him bby 😡 im your bby
username "tell your baby that im your baby" 🥺
username HELPPP bros fed up with the comments
username LANDO HAS A MOMMY KINK CONFIRMED 😋
mclaren you're done buddy. no more mr nice guy. meeting at 5pm.
username ignoring the caption but its so cute that the only thing he posts besides racing related pictures is her 🥹 my heart liked by landonorris
username she's so beautiful wow liked by landonorris
username her smile is the prettiest thing ive ever seen liked by landonorris
maxverstappen1 lando... what about us 😣
yourusername BACK AWAY FROM MY MAN 🗣️🤺
username how the tables have turned...
landonorris YEAH YOU TELL HIM BABY ‼️ THATS MY WIFEY 🗣️
username their matching profile pictures are adorable 🥹 liked by landonorris
alexandrasaintmleux SHE WAS MINE FIRST 👹
yourusername im still yours love 💗
landonorris thats not what you said in bed last night
alexandrasaintmleux NAHH UNDER MY COMMENT??
georgerussell63 lando mate enough is enough 😀
landonorris literally leave no one wants you here
mclaren you've taken at least ten years off my life
username SOMEONE SEDATE HIM✊
username someone needs to get neutered 🫵🏻
carlossainz55 NO MORE PLEASE I CANT TAKE IT ☹️
landonorris pov my wifey after round five last night
username FIVE????
alex_albon NASTYY YALL FREAKYYY
mclaren why do I even try 😞
lewishamilton NURSE HES OUT AGAINNNNN 😦
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haveihitanerve · 6 months ago
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Bruce sends his kids little notes using carrier bats. It first started when Dick moved out and he wanted to talk to his son but didn't want to call and then have dick hang up on him or decline, didn't want to see his message be left on read, so he bought a little circus bat and taught it to fly to wherever Dick’s scent was (ie he would hang a piece of dicks clothing up at one end of the cave) and built him a nest built of dicks old bedsheets and then tied a little note to its foot, just a little question about how the weather is in Bludhaven and if hes getting enough sleep and alfred misses him, nothing that can be seen as overbearing or forcing himself into his life, and the little bat flies all the way to Bludhaven and hangs on Dicks window and Dick sees it and memories slam into him full force because bats are batman and robin and he cant, not yet. So he doesn't open the window. Ignores him. But the little bat is anything if not as stubborn as the man who trained him so he stays. And after two days Dick relents because the bat hasn't moved an inch and is probably hungry, so he brings him inside and then he sees the note for the first time and opens it and then he breaks and the tears flow because Bruce cares and bruce still wants him. And dick spends time with the little bat and takes it on missions as Nightwing because they’re both nocturnal and then finally, dick attaches a little note to the bats leg and he flies off to bruce. And bruce sees the little bat on his window and opens it, when he spots Dick standing just below, smiling faintly. “Hey b.” 
Bruce gets a bat from the cave ceiling for Babs almost immediately after her accident with Joker because he has responsibilities but he cant leave her alone so he sends her notes everyday and hopes the bat is a good enough companion and when she becomes oracle the bat serves as an exchange of information and contacts and bruce still uses him to check up on her and babs rolls her eyes everytime, but its fond
And so then when Jason comes bruce finds another little bat hanging in crime alley and uses her as a therapy animal after he dies and trains her the way he trained Dick’s but the bat doesn't have anyone to fly to and bruce tries not to cry when he sends it out with notes and it returns because it has no one to deliver to… until one day it doesn't come back. And bruce is afraid and confused and a week later the bat is back, a new note attached to her leg and bruce takes it and breaks down and he gets to talk to his son again. 
Tim already comes with his own bat because Nightwing has one, but the little girl imprints on Bruce right away and Tim pouts but he cant really be angry, not when Bruce sends his bat over to him almost daily while hes in the batcave or his room or the tower with reminders to eat and sleep and coupons for coffee
When Steph arrives Bruce hates himself for firing her but he just cant right now, but he stills gets a bat from the cave and sends it to her and apologizes because he cant bring himself to leave everything unspoken between them and Steph actually adores it and every so often she’ll send him a note and bruce knows hes forgiven
For Damian theres no need for a bat because he lives in the house with Bruce, but then they have Goliath and well… he serves as a messenger when no one else can get damian out of the training area
bruce has never named the bats, thinking that was for them alone to do and he didnt want to get too attached because theres always a chance he pushed too far and his kids wont send a message back, but one day all his kids were hanging out in the living room together and bruce had just come up to join them when he hears dick say "hey wheres b? the movie's about to start?" and jason chucks a piece of popcorn in his mouth and goes "idk, ill send him a note." but tim goes "no i will!" and all together they yell "ROBIN!!!" and all their bats come flying from the cave and fly to their specific masters and Bruce cant fight the tears and when every little bat flies towards him and delivers their note he walks out into the living room and gives them the biggest hug
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charliemwrites · 7 months ago
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Part 2!
Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.
Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)
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Agatha is over again.
You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.
A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.
Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.
“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.
You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.
“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.
She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.
“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”
People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.
“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.
Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”
You blink. Men…?
A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)
Ah. Those men.
“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”
It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.
“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”
You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.
“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.
“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”
Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.
“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”
That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.
“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”
You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.
Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.
“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”
You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.
“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”
She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.
Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.
It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.
Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.
“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”
And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.
And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.
Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.
Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.
“So… the cookies were good then?”
“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.
“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”
It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“
“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.
Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)
“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.
You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”
He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”
Well shit.
“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”
Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”
It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.
There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.
Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.
You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.
Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.
You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.
“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.
He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.
“What happened?” he asks.
You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.
“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”
You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.
“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.
Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.
“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”
When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.
“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”
With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.
You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.
“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.
He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”
You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”
“Nein,” he snorts.
Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.
There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.
“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”
“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”
You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?
It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.
“Are you guys military?”
“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.
You perk up. “Wait, really?”
He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”
You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”
He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.
“Yes,” he answers slowly.
“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”
His eyes narrow. “Questions?”
You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”
Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.
He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”
You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”
He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.
“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.
Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”
“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.
You beam. “Thank you!”
He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.
“What else needs doing?”
Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.
Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.
You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.
Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.
You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.
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bitchthefuck1 · 18 days ago
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Genuinely cannot fathom how this woman's mind works, it'll be a genuine miracle if I don't kms before the year ends
The universe saw me finally getting out of a toxic social circle and moving away from my family and said let's balance this out by giving her a manager with the poorest communication skills known to man
#im not being serious but i actually also am#updated my resume and started applying to jobs again so ig we'll fucking see#i thought this was just one of those 'yeah its annoying but you can live with it' things but she's literally impossible to work with. how#the fuck has anyone else done it#like our department is just the two of us and i think she maybe drove the last person away in the year they worked together but im at the#end of my fucking rope#and i know its not just a me issue other people who have worked with her on projects and stuff have been like 'yeah idk wtf she's talking#about or where she got that idea'.#the craziest thing to me is that she's kind of technologically challenged but whenever i tell her or explain something she doesn't#understand about a process or piece of software she straight up. acts like im lying? like i mentioned an issue w word that came up yesterda#(very minor w zero impact to anything) and she was like 'well EYE've never heard of that happening. talk to IT and ill ask them about what#they tell you' like shes going to catch me in a lie. i talk to IT and they're like 'oh yeah that happens all the time. you've already fixed#it so thats great and once it happens once it shouldn't happen again' bc of course they did bc im neither stupid nor a liar#every single time ive mentioned a tech issue or something comes up shes like 'that cant be happening. i dont believe you' and without fail#when i check with IT they're like 'oh yeah! happens all the time/this wasn't set up right/definitely a software issue' and sometimes she#still doesn't believe me????? girl what the fuck do you want#every fucking day its a new thing with her and i actually cannot take it#and the thing that really gets me about the issue w word today is that it literally impacted nothing. this wasn't like her spotting a#problem and my excusing it i literally was just like 'hey heads up this thing happened with word yesterday that happened w my previous#computer once as well and it may mean that i wont be able to see any comments you leave on that draft i sent you (which you haven't#reviewed yet so it's not like this is making you repeat anything) so in an abundance of caution here's the exact same file again just to be#sure'. like why the fuck would i lie about any of that. what am i covering up for. i literally brought it up myself and it impacted nothing#a better question is why this company has this many tech issues but that's a conversation for another day
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frankcastleonlyfans · 6 months ago
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au
summary: your son maegon visits his sick old uncle, viserys, and end up learning the story of how you met your husband.
author's note: look who's back... this story was based off two asks, this one, and another one asking how daemon and mom!reader met. and now mom!reader is officially dornish!!!! i will not be making descriptions of her features in the future, but just know that mom!reader is poc. i hope you guys enjoy this story. it feels good to write again.
warnings: none ig
reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you like my work, and enjoy your reading.
dad!daemon x mom!reader au masterlist
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gif by @gameofthronesdaily
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓ ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
It is sad when a family member gets sick and you know there's nothing you can do about it. So when your brother-in-law fell ill, it came the time you had to explain to your children that King Viserys wouldn't be the same he once was. The hard part was trying not to scare them with the thought of losing their uncle.
The news brought sadness to Alyssa's and Rhaegon's hearts, but Maegon was the most affected one. He felt the necessity of doing something for his beloved uncle so that even though the King now lay indisposed, he could still feel loved. Your son was old enough to realize that besides Helaena, Viserys' kids did not care for him. That made him sad. Rhaenyra lived in Dragonstone, and for so she couldn't give the attention her father deserved.
The boy had the idea of asking Queen Alicent to let him pay some company for King, during the evenings where he would like someone to talk to. As she needed a break from the sick man herself, she would let Maegon take over her place wherever she felt like it. Which was, almost every evening.
During one of those evenings, Prince Daemon thought it would be nice to see what his brother and son talked about. Mostly, he just wanted to see his brother interacting with anyone, to have the certainty that Viserys would still be alive for a while. The King had little to no hair on his scalp. His body couldn't stand up without the supported of a cane. Daemon didn't know how much time his older brother had left.
When Daemon made entrance to the monarch's solar, he found his son and his brother giggling softly. It felt good to hear the laughing. It meant Viserys was in fact, still alive.
"May I know what is so funny?" The Rogue Prince asked, making his presence known.
Maegon was startled by his father's voice. He has been visiting his uncle for weeks now, but not once his father wanted to come with him.
"Oh, hello Daemon" Viserys grinned at the sight of his sibling, "what a coincidence to see you right now. I was just telling Maegon about that time when we were kids... Do you remember when we tried to find The Cannibal?"
Daemon chuckled, "I do. We searched around all Dragonstone until Father found us before we got inside a Volcano's cave."
"And we never found him!" Viserys laughed.
"Well, thank Gods! You two would probably be eaten or burned alive and I wouldn't be here today to hear the story if you did find him." Maegon reasoned, watching his father pacing around the King's solar.
Daemon's fingers danced around the huge model of Valyria that his brother had exposed in the middle of his room.
"I miss the good old days when I was brave. Once I was sword fighting, I was riding Balerion, I took my little brother to look for a cannibal wild dragon..." Viserys sighed softly.
"You are brave still, uncle" Maegon assures, "It takes bravery to rule. And it takes bravery to be kind. You are a good King."
Viserys nodded to his nephew's words, taking his hands across the table. Daemon felt warmth in his heart. He couldn't quite understand that sensation, but he sees that part of him feels glad that his son expressed words and emotions he could never say or show, because he didn't know how to.
"Did you know that I was the one who introduced your mother to Daemon?" Viserys asked, with fun in his tone, "Have I ever told you the story?"
"Oh, you haven't!" Maegon engaged, grinning excitedly, "Do tell me, uncle, please."
We were all at Driftmark to prestige Corlys and Rhaenys' wedding. Nobles from all across the Seven Kingdoms were there, and your mother was one of them. I remember she was wearing her house colors in her dress. She was a bit older than your sister is now, I think.
My late wife, Aemma, introduced me to her, I didn't know they were friends. I discovered that the lady whom I had just met, was not only a Princess but also played part as a knight at her father's guard. She wore that dress with such grace, that I thought my ears deceived me when I imagined her wearing armor and ringmail.
My thoughts were disturbed by Caraxes' whistling noises, when Daemon, who was very late for the ceremony, came flying upon our heads, rounding Corlys' castle. Everyone was watching the little show your father was giving, mouth-opened, shocked, scared. Y/N wasn't any of those things. She wasn't impressed at all. I remember asking her;
"Have you ever seen a dragon?"
and smirking, she replied, "Where I come from, we have scarier animals."
"Scarier?" Aemma questioned.
"More dangerous." Y/N reasoned.
"I suppose you're right, Princess Y/N," I said, "There are beings more lethal than a dragon, like the very man who rides it can be far more dangerous for his ideals, than the dragon under his command."
It felt like I summoned my brother once I said those words.
"Prince Daemon" Y/N made a short reverence to greet his presence.
"Brother, let me introduce you to Princess Y/N of Sunspear, she is a good friend of Aemma's."
Daemon kept his smugly signature grin on his lips, and took Y/N's hand in his, kissing the soft skin of her knuckles.
"I am deeply sorry for being late for the ceremony. I hope dear cousin Rhaenys can forgive my missing presence." Daemon changed the subject without paying any interest to the lady who made us company.
His rudeness made me uncomfortable, but it was so like my brother to behave like that.
"Y/N, you should come visit us. Viserys and I would love to welcome your family to Dragonstone." Aemma smiled and looked at me for reassurance.
I nodded, "Feel free to visit whenever you want. It is a very lonely place, and unfortunately, the only family we have there is my brother, as Aemma and I are still trying for a child."
Before Y/N could give us an answer, Daemon retorted, "My apologies if living with your younger brother is not what you expected of marriage."
"It certainly is not what I was expecting." Aemma playfully hit Daemon with her elbow.
Y/N giggled softly and the noise took Daemon's attention. He was quite curious why she was still there, in his presence. Most people who didn't know him are likely to feel uncomfortable with his intimidating presence, but not that girl.
"Are you here with your family?" He questioned. That was the first time he spoke directly to her.
Y/N shook her head, "My father sent me here in his name to prestige Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys, and give them our wedding gift."
"Oh. I see Dorne's economy must be great if its ruler has enough gold to spend on such superficial events." Like always, Daemon felt the need to say something directly rude.
Y/N frowned, "I thank the Gods our economy is doing well. It certainly is not because of your King." she replied. Her head remained raised, and her eyes stared at Daemon's on the same height.
Daemon felt strange. That woman wasn't offended by what he said, and even tried to get under his skin. One had to have such courage to talk to him like that.
"Uhm... Viserys, why don't you take Daemon to get that wine Corlys was talking to you about?" Aemma spoke trying to break the tension.
"When I took him away, he couldn't shut his mouth about Y/N. He was amazed a woman had the guts to talk to him like that, and even so about the King." Viserys finished the story, as Maegon quietly listened to every word he said.
"She never really had much filter, your mother." Daemon said, "Still doesn't."
Maegon frowned, "But... that's it? That's how you met mother? But, when did you start courting her, father?"
"She came to Viserys' coronation ceremony. Aemma was pregnant and couldn't make her company, so I offered myself for my sister-in-law to be the one hosting her friend in King's Landing." Daemon shrugged, "The rest... well, maybe you should ask your mother how it happened. I don't remember very well, but I know she quickly fell in love with me."
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satoruhour · 1 year ago
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HIHII hope you are doing well!!!
I have a request but if you're not comfortable writing it's completely fine too!!
Anyways~ can you write something with University professor geto x top student reader??? They have a lot of sexual tension and geto continuously targets the reader in his lectures only for her to storm into his office after a test in which he didn't give her the marks she deserved just so he could piss her off and eventually leading them to blow off some steam together hehe-
HEJSJSH ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT REST OF THE DAY💗💗
-🍒
I GOT THAT DUMB D*CK !
a/n: hi cherry 2! saying 2 because i already have another cherry anon, thank u for waiting for this btw sorry this took so long omggg!!! i wanna make it similar to the short blurb i did here, but ill leave out reader being a camgirl! a lot of lore talk, just a warning
wc: 8k (sigh ....)
warnings: so much lore lol sorry, no beta we die like men, age gap (32 / 24), professor!geto, fem!reader, geto is also a cam worker, masturbation (both f and m), toy use during f! masturbation (vibrator), fantasising, pet names, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, oral (m receiving, f receives briefly at the end), dumbification (ig?) face-fucking, deep-throating, spitting in mouth, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, cum eating, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut
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no one could really pinpoint the reason why professor geto had picked on you, called you out so much, and why you entertained the incessant questions. it was unbecoming of a prof., he knew, it was never smart to favour one person (negatively, in this case) in a room of bright students who could read between the lines. but he just feels himself so drawn to your furrowed eyebrows and words laced with venom, because at the end of the day, he can see that you aren’t all talk.
you challenge his views and you do it in a way that catches him off-guard. you propose insane arguments that you willingly would die at the grave just to find evidence for; or it could just be because he was staring too much at the way your mouth moved and your eyes expressed everything to pay attention to your words, finding that you were just too beautiful to be chasing a linguistics degree.
this was another thing: geto suguru could possibly have anyone he wanted. he was fine. shoulders pulled back in proper posture, hair either tied up fully or just halfway, and always, always wearing shirts with sleeves that reach his wrist. to that, everyone could see just how bulked the man was, top looking too tight all the time.
geto knew he was fine, too, because on top of (and before) being a professor, he found that he could get a good amount of money by just streaming — camera propped below his neck and obviously tight button-up shirt discarded to reveal his tattooed body, while he has his legs spread and the thirsty, horny comments flooding in on the platform. it’s been a norm by now, started from his uni days where he needed some extra money to support his fees and living necessities.
one year turned into two, two years turned into stagnancy during his third and fourth years (save for a few occasional streams), and up came a little funny graduation stream suggested by his best friend. geto had spent a good half ’n hour talking about his time in university and thanking his viewers, changing up the setting almost immediately by showing hard he was.
[uzum4kisl0ver]: YEAAAH we’re getting to the good stuff, thank u for feeding us so well these few years uzumaki-san!!
[minstash96]: Congrats on graduating Uzumaki-san!! I rmb joining during your third year and found out from everyone u were getting busier </3 but Im glad youre back again!!!
[g_bigdick_s]: fellas is it gay to support your best friend’s graduation jerking off stream
the flood of “yes”’s replying to gojo made the streamer laugh, thankful that his best friend had listened a little and at least changed gojobigdicksatoru to just his “G.S.” initials to avoid people finding his LinkedIn. from there, geto had gotten into the true nature of his stream easily, fishing out his cock to stroke and loving the sounds of tips coming in, the name of his alias Uzumaki continually commented. since then, it’s become a side hustle — finishing his masters, training to become a professor, it’s all natural to him, taking even further steps to make sure he isn’t found out.
exactly, he could have anyone he wanted — a fan from his streaming account, or one of satoru’s regular fwb’s but instead he finds himself drawn to someone else, you, the second year student in his bilingualism and multilingualism module that he has no trouble teaching despite his freshly employed status.
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at the start of the week, the gods decided thought it would be funny to delay the campus bus that would take you to the english department for a consultation session with your professor. you couldn’t focus in lectures due to bad cramps, you were behind on your non-major related courses, the bad luck just seemed to seep into one day after another. you had woken up late, putting on a terrible outfit that no one really cared about, except your professor who just had a smirk on his face.
“if you notice, runes were created as they were spoken — spelt as they are said which almost look like ‘pictographs’,” prof. geto switches to the next slide with the runes and their meanings alongside a jumble of symbols that send the whole class into hysterics, “can anyone sound out the phonetics of these runes to me? hint: even though i said they look like pictographs, the first rune is definitely not an E.”
he was known for asking questions during lectures, pleased with anyone that would even try because he knew how quiet lecture theatres could get. he was exactly like that in university, too, letting satoru take all the attention due to the many unknown people in the same room. now, he found that asking the questions was a little entertaining, seeing the way students look back down at their laptops and avoid eye contact. but he doesn’t need to do anything and his body is already turnt towards you. he’s not even pointing physically, which he thinks he’s done a good job of restraining himself.
ᛊᛃᚨᚾᛖᛚ
“the words and names should be as they sound — so ‘s’ or ᛊ should translate into a ‘c’ since they didn’t have a C back then and it’s the closest sound to C. ᛃ can’t be ‘h’ because of the usage of H in hagl . . its pronunciation is different and plus, we’ll spell it how we say it, so maybe it’s ‘j’?” you mutter to yourself, an urge to answer the quickest, always. you aren’t sure where this streak came from, but you’ve been smart always, “sja . . it either can be chanel or channel since there’s a rule you can’t use the same rune twice in succession . .”
professor geto already knows you’d be the first to answer, raising your hand even without looking since you were still calculating the other four letters which you put together fairly quickly.
you take the safest route, “chanel, with one N.”
geto clicks his tongue and sucks in a breathe, “so close, miss (y/n), but it’s because i cheated a little on my part.” you can feel your blood boil and the grimaces of other students when he switches to the next slide and there’s a little grin on his face. it says — ‘there is no distinction between capital and small runes, nor can you use the same rune twice continually.’
“you are right, partially, but i did want to drive home the point,” which he’s sure you already know. “that words with two N’s or L’s or whatever, would only show up in the runic language as only one character.” your face morphs into something of annoyance and the grin on professor geto’s face only widens — that defiant, headstrong nature is something he loved, but the grin drops a little when he imagines something . . out of the classroom. his pants tighten.
you mirror him, clicking your tongue and reluctantly taking down the note in your documents before sinking into your chair — not even chō, you friend, could find the proper words to comfort you. you spend the rest of the lecture, sulking, unwillingly answering his incessant questions with a scowl on your face and a headache forming.
this never stops—
“miss (y/n)?” one-on-one meetings were the bane of your existence, but it was the only way to connect with your professors properly — here, geto calls you to talk about your latest essay where you were the last on the roster. by then, everyone has filed out with nobara waiting for you just outside the classroom.
“don’t have to call my name, i’m the only one here.” you mutter under your breath, and geto feels a little annoying today.
“what was that?”
“nothing—”
he hums, scooting his chair closer once you sit, and while you find the gesture a little weird, you’re overcome with just how good he smells and it only fuels your hatred more. it’s no fair that he’s so . .
“miss (y/n).” you sigh with an apology, frankly not ready to hear how he’d be attacking your essay. it was written on a rushed timeline, you didn’t cite your sources properly, you knew some criticism was warranted as much as you didn’t like to hear it from your professor’s mouth.
“. . you do know you can’t just rely on your brain, right?” geto speaks softly and you feel your heart flutter at his tone. he points to the places where you forget your in-text citations.
“but professor, information about syntax and phonetics just comes like second nature . .” you mumble, ignoring how he closes his eyes and hisses, “and all the sources on the internet say different things.”
“then just find a reliable one.”
you tsk, taking the paper from him and flipping to the next page, “well, i did one here.” the paper makes a sound when you press your finger into it, aware of how close you are. from here you can feel the heat radiating off his body, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together.
“too long ago, needs to be within five years.” geto’s lying through his teeth.
“no, it does not!” you pull back and look at him incredulously. ah, the feeling’s gone, “not in language related papers, at least!”
“but that claim was from the 2000’s, miss (y/n), for all we know it could’ve been resolved by then.”
“then why didn’t you say anything about chō’s scholar article from the 1990’s?” you’re standing up, now, furrowed eyebrows depicting the very thing you feel: confusion, agitation at being treated like this. given you weren’t in the best condition when you wrote this essay, but you still gave it your all.
“her argument was about the interconnectedness between the romance languages — yours,” he punctuates while leaning back in his chair. you don’t like how your eyes flit down to his lap, but you’re forced to look up when he stands up too, “is about the use of ciphers in comparison to an immature language developed on the internet that created in the 2019s. any scholar claim before that would be void.”
your blood boils just like that day. alas, he had a good point, but like always, the gentle slit of his eyes and the all-knowing smile didn’t match the bullying he was laying on you and you despise it.
even! even, as you notice how there’s probably less than a inch between your faces as you puff out your chest to look more intimidating and yet geto suguru towers over you. and even when your heart beats loudly in your ears, feeling his hot breath fan over your own face while you don’t miss how he licks his lips and glances down to yours not-so-secretly.
you swallow at the silence, until there’s the annoying notification of his Outlook cutting the tension and soon you’re snatching the essay from him, walking to where your bag is. although you want to let your anger overflow, all you say is a tame, “noted. thanks, prof” with a glare, eye twitching.
you made sure to slam the classroom door with shaky hands . .
. . but you’re not very good at capping your rage. “i swear to god! he better fucking check his mirror and admire himself because soon i’m going to beat him up so bad that everyone can’t recognise him.” geto’s lips turn up in a small smirk at your flared expression he just witnessed — he just loves your dirty mouth and he finds himself thinking of it more and more often.
chō only can tut, “so you find him attractive?”
“what? how the hell did you infer that from my rant?” you scoff, shoving her to the side, not aware that your whispered outburst is heard as he’s packing up. he simply enjoys looking at you walk away through the glass slit of the door, hips swaying unknowingly.
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“bad news, guys,” geto, or rather Uzumaki, sighs on screen, adjusting so the lens of the camera rested just below his collarbones. easily, his chat fills up with a mixture of horny comments and genuine questions, chuckling to himself as he unbuttons his shirt. he feels more like a sinner at this point, suddenly flustered with the confession he’s about to make.
“i think i’ve taken quite a liking to someone,” geto hums, hands going to his trousers to palm his bulge. he had to get home immediately after that, cancelling his meetings for the day. with a single text to gojo, the white-haired man was excited to hear everything about this new person, thankful that his best friend will finally not be alone.
[g_bigdick_s]: TELL US! TELL US!!!! TELL US!
but professor geto is lost instantly, imagining you as he massages his erection. thinking about your anger transforming into pleasure, into obedience for him as he forces your mouth down on his cock. oh . . how’d your mouth and hands feel, how’d your pussy feel.
geto groans, already removing his dick from the constraints, and pumping it to full length. he doesn’t even talk much, only the endless comments and tips reminding him he was still on live. spitting on his hand, he wraps his hand around himself again, thumbing the tip and hoping it’d be your tongue swirling around it.
what would you look like on your knees, taking each inch of his cock down your throat? would he be able to wipe the defiance off your face? would he be able to fuck his smart student, dumb?
“you need a good destress, woman,” chō suggests over the phone, voice a bit uneven due to it being stuck in between her shoulder and ear, “go on camstar or something, i’m sure you’ll find something hot there.”
“chō, i am not going on a porn streaming website! i’ll very much settle for my smut fics, thank you.”
“boo, don’t you get bored? i get that normal adult industry videos are super inaccurate but . . when was the last time you’ve watched an unfiltered, unedited jerk off vid? that’s the hottest.”
you scoff, “yeah, like you would know, miss complain-whenever-you-get-dick-pics.”
“that’s because it’s unsolicited! plus all the men who send me pics have ugly dicks. if anything i’m more open to get unsolicited pussy pics rather than consensual dick pics at this point.” your friend nonchalantly says, spreading her fingers to look at her manicured nails, “but anyway, prof geto is on your ass too much lately. maybe he wants to get in your pants?”
you don’t recoil at the suggestion as much as you expect to and you’re puzzled at that — “please never say that again.” just as you’re saying this, you’re typing in camstar.org even though you told yourself not to but deep down, you know that you’ve been craving more than just twitter links and porn with plot stories. on the front page, you’re seeing a video thumbnail of a guy with a fairly big . . feature, countless tattoos lining his body while you can catch a faint glimpse of his long hair in the dark room — it’s the only one that draws you in, other streams merging into a blur.
chō’s voice fades off when you notice just how popular the stream is, cursor hovering over the title (“just a ramblefap, need to release some tension”) almost tempting you to click.
“okay, will get back to you,” succumbing to your needs, you shamelessly grab your vibrator just as she cheers into the phone. you can hear that’s my girl! on the other side as you stifle a smile, bidding a goodbye before you settle into bed. from there, you do what you always do: relax for a few, slow your breathing, get yourself wet a little—
click.
The stream you have attempted to view has ended a minute ago. We apologise for the inconvenience caused. View more livestreams below:
you shove the vibrator under your pillow and bury your head into it, screaming.
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“i mentioned in yesterday’s lecture that Latin evolved from the dialects of the Italic peoples of ancient Italy, or Latium, a region in central western Italy. over time, Latin absorbed elements from other languages, such as Etruscan and Greek, and it became the main language of the western Mediterranean.” professor geto rambled on in classic geto fashion — it was his passion that made him so easy to listen to, as with the many enamoured girls with googly eyes and the guys who wish they could carry themselves the way geto did.
you’d say the same thing: his love for his subject of study made him attractive — charming even — as much as you didn’t want to admit to your friend, but you’d be more open with your attraction like everyone is if he wasn’t—
[9:52am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] so fucking annoying and cocky and picking on me all the time!!!!!! im soooo sick of him im so serious omfg ....
but today, he’s looking less at you and more at other students, or even marvelling at the terrible paint job of the classroom as he goes from slide to slide. he talks about the derivation in which French separates from Latin, borrowing similar spellings and meanings from the old language while separating the way they are spoken.
“French is the most divergent of the romance languages because of strong Gallic and Frankish influences. The Celtic Gauls spoke a language similar to Old Dutch but adopted Latin as the Romans invaded Gaul.” you don’t even have to look at him to get him thinking of lewd things, spiralling into his fantasies ever since last night. geto is a little fatigued, too, having lost sleep over his fucking student which he just can’t help bothering. excitement at having you in class before is now turning into dread with every week that passes, and this week is just one instance.
“uh— i-i know you guys aren’t well-versed in either, but with your knowledge of both languages,” geto pulls at his tie. he feels hot, “discuss with your tutorial groups, the differences between the two and list down examples. just come up with one difference, but preferably name a few instances.”
[10:01am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] wish u were here im so bored 😭😭 profs acting so weird today tho
[10:01am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] is he looking hot and bothered, nervous ??? like he wants to cry? im tellin you he wants you fr
of course she’d come out of her sickness-induced sleep just to bother you about him having the hots for you.
[10:02am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] you’re so ... i swear pls shut up he may want me but i do NOT want him
[10:03am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] not even while you were just ranting about how his side profile looked a little too good in lecture yesterday?? anyway i hope you’ll be able to get that nut tn 🙏🏼 that guy on camstar sounded hot asf
[10:04am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] ikr i cant believe i got cockblocked by a fuckin livestream ending 💀 thank you fr i need it atp
“any progress here?” he comes out behind you and you slam the phone so hard you give the both of you a scare while your other friends exchange giggles with each other. what you don’t know, is how his arm is positioned upon the back of your chair and his whole body hovers just beside yours. you’re threatened to look, but you know if you do, you’d be falling deeper into the pit that you promised yourself not to fall into.
“yup, we’re just discussing things about how in terms of grammar, French has conjugation but almost no declension. but— uh, it rather uses word order to express some of the intricacies that Latin expresses through word endings.”
you can see geto nod from your peripheral, “good. good answer, any examples to show me?”
your friends nod towards you since you’re usually the one with all the information about different languages. they aren’t foreign to the way geto keeps calling on you to answer him, too, so you shouldn’t have any problem with this, right?
wrong. you’re stuttering through your answer, turning your head finally and being met with the sight of prof geto looking down on you like a deer caught in headlights. you think that being in lecture theatres, sitting near to the back and your hatred in general has desensitised you to the beauty of your professor, because being under him like this makes your core pulse uncomfortably and your voice shaky.
“. . hm? what was that?”
“i was uhm— saying how— uh,” the way geto nods at you makes you more nervous, painting you as someone who someone who had all bark and no bite, but the other knows very well that you had a nasty bite. you’re smart and witty, pretty, hot as fuck, and if anything, it’s taking everything in geto not to bend you over and show you your place in this very classroom in front of everyone, too.
“little lady got nothin’ for me today?” geto purses his lips and lets his teasing side take over, an easy-going smile taking over his features that you just want to kiss and slap off at the same time. wait.
“i didn’t get enough sleep because i was too busy trying to rewrite the damn essay you said i had outdated and missing sources for,” you speak through gritted teeth, feeling a mixture of arousal and pure rage for the man hovering over you.
geto juts his lip out in a pout, face getting dangerously close to yours and challenging you. he just hopes your two friends won’t say anything, “well, darling, if you picked an easier topic to argue about, you wouldn’t be doing that, would you?”
“well, sorry i’m always trying to outdo myself. are you, professor geto? what with your boring suits and black and white slide designs?”
you click your tongue and turn back to your phone to pull up your chat with chō while geto takes a deep breath, desperately hoping the hard-on wouldn’t show through his slacks. your other two friends only giggle even more at the exchange, because for the rest of the class, professor geto is on edge, unable to teach coherently.
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[11:17pm, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] YOU DID WHAAAAATTTTT...???? GIRL YOU SAID THAT???!!!!!!
[11:18pm, (y/n) -> chō 💟] bro what if i get expelled.. i shouldnt have but he was pissing me off so much... i did put an apology in the end tho
by then, you’ve already submitted your rewritten essay, putting in a short note at the end for your behaviour in class. although you don’t take it back, you’re still trying to play it safe especially with how much you paid to get into university. you scroll along camstar, bored out of your mind and hoping to find something as compelling as the inked guy from last week, but nothing really draws you in. until you’re refreshing the page, and just like the previous time, the popularity of that same bulking guy seems to push his video to the top.
and finally, before you’re clicking into the video, you check out his profile: in his early thirties, started this account when he was 24 and in university. you smack your lips at that — he’s been doing this for almost ten years? that’s dedication. in curiosity, you scroll down his account, seeing the progression of which this guy built up his figure and tattoos that litter his body. he’s kept the same format, camera showing his body chest down until you’re lazy to scroll more, a little disappointed in not being able to find any indication of his face.
you think that maybe you saw a glimpse of that wrist tattoo that matched the tattoo on your professor’s wrist, but you could just be imagining things.
“alright guys . .” the man on the screen huffs, clothes already discarded to get straight to the point, and you’re recording a small snippet of the same guy you told chō about. “had a rough day today.”
the onslaught of comments going i can make u feel better!!! Take ur anger out on me Uzumaki-san makes you sputter and laugh, sending that video first before you’re taking another. your attention is stolen for a moment, seeing chō react with emojis to your video message (“let’s see what emails i got today, huh?”), but the structure of sentences that the man speaks soon brings you out of jollity and into shock.
“how cute, an essay sent straight to my email.” geto wants to do anything but look at emails right now, but ever since he’s gotten your rewritten assignment, it’s all he’s wanted to check out if it wasn’t for the many meetings and errands he had to run today. “yadda yadda . . oh?”
“i’m sorry for today’s lesson,” purposely pausing to leave out his name, geto continues on, “i shouldn’t have reacted in that way no matter the situation.” a smirk forms on his face while your body fills with dread. in your panic, you pull up your own document whilst catching all of this on camera, tracking each word as the man on camstar.org continues to say out your apology word by word.
and then bit by bit, you’re making out how the man behind the camera might, just might be your linguistics professor. the broad shoulders, the jawline, the long hair, the manspread . .
but even with your heightened combination of excitement and revelation, you don’t click away, blindly sending the video to your friend and then shamefully digging under your pillow to grab your vibrator.
“teaching people is so difficult sometimes, guys,” he grunts, pulling down his underwear and revealing his already hard cock. he lets out a shaky sigh as he wraps a hand around his shaft, “you usually get the people who won’t do any work, the ones who are absent half the time — usually they go hand in hand.”
professor geto laughs and you twitch at the lovely sound. “but . . there’s this one girl . . in my classes— f-fuck.”
you’re entranced, watching your professor masturbate in front of thousands of people who possibly didn’t know a thing about this man while you try to get your jaw off the floor, “who is entirely different from these categories.”
“she’s smart,” geto groans out and you watch transfixed as he starts to pump himself, hips grinding up into his palm, “she’s so smart that i’d want to get to know her one day and just talk about anything.”
“s-she’s so fucking attractive, too, you guys won’t even— oh goddd . .” you feel like you’re being watched, so you’re careful with how you’re putting your vibrator to your core and once you start it, the moan that leaves you lines up with geto’s deeper groans. it turns you on so damn much.
with his head tilted back, he’s long gone as he moves his hands faster and faster, the slick noises of his pre-cum and spit mixing in together — geto only wishes he could act on his desires once the course was over, but knows you’ll probably be mortified at the prospect. at least here, he can imagine that it’s your mouth or cunt doing all the work.
“s-shitttt . .” the professor sounds out, hissing when he thumbs his tip and even more pre comes spilling out and while you watch, you’re hypnotised by the beautiful moans in its perfect cadence and the thickness of his cock. by now his chest is heaving and he’s holding onto his bedsheets so tight you wish it was your thighs.
“i want to fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head and get her dumb on my cock,” geto whines, hips fully bucking up now while you press your vibrator deeper into your clit. you’re left wondering how his mouth would feel, to shut him up by pressing him into your cunt until he can’t breathe, soak his stupid fucking suits, “want to hear her moan my name.”
you whimper at all the things professor geto swears he wants to do to you, grinding into your hand while he speeds up as well. he doesn’t speak, simply stroking himself as he thighs tense up and he squeezes his shaft with head full of visions of you in terribly lewd positions, making disgusting sounds, and all for him. it isn’t long before geto cums with a loud drawn out moan, shooting his cum onto his torso with a sigh before taking a sticky hand to his lips, licking it off — “i’d want to see my cum dripping out of her one day.”
that sends a chill down to your core, biting your pillow before you release softly all over your hand and vibrator; you spend the rest of the night watching professor geto’s other videos.
[12:32am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] oh. OH..........
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“i should’ve just taken an off-day today, i do not want to get back our results.” chō rubs at her eyes and temples, wanting anything to do with the return of test marks, but unfortunately it was the week after midterms and it was inevitable, “don’t need to ask you though, you’re probably not worried at all.”
“trust me, i am,” you bite the inside of your cheek. it’s been at least . . two weeks after that whole debacle, and despite your intense vents with your friend and the continuous picking on by prof. geto, nothing out of the blue was happening. except, maybe, your growing physical need for your professor and your simultaneous, increasing hatred for him.
“it’s only midterms — you don’t need to worry too much since it doesn’t contain a high percentage. what you should be focusing on are your finals. we’ll work on your shortcomings and mistakes here so you guys will do the best when the time comes.”
and when professor geto comes around to hand you your test, all you do is glare up through your lids, taking it from him before feeling your whole world crumble.
“a B+?!” your mouth gapes open at the blatant 65/100 mark that glares back at you. you know that you would’ve gotten anything but a 65, willing yourself to study harder and harder just to rub it in his pretty little face that you weren’t falling behind in his class. at this point it’s got to be personal, so soon, you’re packing up your things angrily with the intent to storm his office after your other classes.
it’s late in the afternoon when you finally finish your other tutorials on a short fuse, him clearly getting ready to head home by the darkness of his office when you shove your way through the door.
professor geto is sat in a laid-back position, tie hung on the hooks installed in the office and a few buttons are unbuttoned, revealing the very familiar tattoos you’ve become acquainted with.
“to who do i owe the pleasure?”
“cut the crap, prof.,” you scowl, using your foot to slam the office door close. despite the late nights being buried in your sheets, you won’t let yourself be treated like this, “i deserved anything but a 65 on midterms.”
geto tilts his head, sitting up and gesturing out to you; you realise he wants to see your test paper.
“ah!” with a finger, he makes a show of finding for your obvious mistakes which was minimal — but the way he marks obnoxiously tells you everything you need to know, “here. your comprehension of the similarities between Latin and Ancient Greek was too surface level, you didn’t explain why—”
“i. did!” you press down into the paper like the first time, leaning over his table and reading out the exact answer you wrote just a few days ago, “here, since your blind ass wants to act like i wasn’t answering the question.” you push yourself into his desk more, eyes levelled with his. you dare him to say something smart.
“well, your explanation of the six cases in Latin left out the locative, the last one, and there were some problems in the conjugation that the test asked of you.”
“bullshit. show me, if you’re so confident.”
professor geto knows he’s hit a dead-end. he was telling lies, full of it, but he’s enjoying every second of the anger that translates into your features, of the growl in your voice. he leans back further the more you close in on him.
“nothing, right? so tell me, do you hate me that much?”
geto simply laughs, crossing his arms and reminiscing on the many nights he’s spent doing anything but.
“quite the opposite, sweetheart.” the name catches you off-guard for a moment, but your sour face returns soon enough.
“then what the fuck do you think you’re doing, picking endlessly on a student?”
your professor sits forward, prompting you to cower back. you think it’d be good to bring up whatever he’s got going on on camstar.org but you’ll wait to a good moment before you say anything about your trump card, until geto snaps you out of your stupor by towering over you. the sheer difference makes you swallow.
“because i like seeing you flared up and angry and mad.” professor geto surprises you with each second, the nonchalance in which he said it, the stupid, attractive smirk on his face. now’s the time.
you compose yourself, thinking of the best way to phrase this, “you know you’re not entirely safe, either, you know. i could report you with the frequency in which you’re picking on me.”
you point a finger to his chest, thinking you could get him to lay off immediately with this as much as you were hoping he wouldn’t. the attention was unwarranted but not entirely . . terrible, “that wouldn’t look so good on your record, right, Uzumaki-san?”
you relish in the surprise that seeps into geto’s pretty features but it’s a short-lived victory when he goes back into a relaxed state, expression neutral — “so you know.”
“know . . what?” your professor pulls away and walks around his desk, finally in close proximity to you like he’s always wished.
“how badly i want you.” he whispers, but doesn’t go past that, rather letting you figure everything out for yourself.
“‘. . fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head’, right?” you mumble softly, not admitting to even chō that you had watched that livestream over and over enough to memorise the few sentences. geto wraps an arm around your waist to tug you closer, faces so close that you could just shut him up.
“go on.”
“you want me to go dumb on your cock,” professor geto mutters a correct which undeniably sends a thrill to your core.
“you want to hear me to moan your name.” “—want to hear her moan my name.”
a small smile spreads across his face (even if you left out the most important thing) as he finishes his own sentence with you, eyes clouded over with lust and your scent and he’s positive he can smell your soaked panties from here if he tries hard enough.
“that’s right.”
“sooo . .” by god, you fucking hated the man, but seeing someone stroke their cock to just the thought of you — how could you pass off such a good opportunity? “do you prefer professor geto, or suguru?”
geto groans at his first name usage, setting you on his desk and presses himself into you at the sound of papers flying to the floor, stationary falling to the ground. he can only hope no one walks in. he’s fully hard, loving how your legs naturally spread for him.
“whatever you want, baby.” and after, it’s all history with the way geto crashes his lips into yours, letting you pull at his jacket and shirt, practically ripping open the buttons to see his tattoos that you’re begging to see. slowly, he lets you trace them while he kisses down your neck, roughly pulling your sweater off of you. you have the cutest tits, packaged nicely in your bra which he has no trouble taking off. there’s a small sound that escapes his mouth when he unclasps your bra and your breasts come falling out.
“didn’t tell me you had such a nice pair . .” you giggle.
“yeah, like i would straight up tell my professor that.” with a hand, your hand follows the ink of his dragon that wraps around his body and torso, right down to his happy trail, “but i mean, you get the honour of seeing it now.”
with a squeeze to his bulge, you whisper, “maybe i’ll let you fuck them next time.”
geto lets out a little moan, “fucking minx,” before he latches his mouth onto your nipple, kneading the other greedily. a soft moan leaves your mouth as you knead his erection, a culmination of your combined groans in the quiet office. soon he’s giving attention to the other, a hand trailing down into your panties where he rubs your clit to test the waters, and he smiles into your skin at the way your hand falters and your head hangs forward.
“p-professor . .” it’s clear geto can’t wait, because he pushes a finger into you easily with how dripping wet you are, panties showing a dark patch of your juices. “s— so thick—”
“i know, baby, gotta stretch you out,” a soft pop! is heard as he comes off your nipple before he meets your lips in a sloppy kiss. he shoves his tongue into your mouth the moment he pushes a second finger in and he swallows your moans, letting you feel around his body to dig your nails in — it was just too damn much.
“so— suguru, your f-fingers, they’re so—” even with your protests, your hips grind up against his thick fingers that are pumping in and out of you, taking every last piece of fire in you as you succumb completely.
“what, miss (y/n)?” geto memorises the exact way all your previous blazing words are reduced to mere mewls and whimpers, alongside your pleas for more, more, more.
“i need something—” you whine when he pushes all the way inside, stretching your cunt so well as you clench around him like a vice and sucking him in, “i wanna make you feel good—”
you get at least a little resolve in the time it took you to say that, drunkenly unbuckling his belt before pulling his cock out. his tip is positively leaking, fingers curling instinctively in your pussy and your moans mingle together again.
“c’mon, prof, please?” geto tuts, reluctantly removing his fingers from your cunt which he wish he could spend more of his time in, but gives in to you as you switch positions, pushing him against his own desk. from there you’re going to your knees, marvelling at the cock you’ve watched on your very own screen.
“better than you imagined?”
you roll your eyes, “shut up or i’m blue-balling you.”
geto exhales forcefully, cut off when you put your mouth gently over his tip. you suckle on it like a pacifier, swirling your tongue around the mushroom head and looking up at him through your lashes; the sight is heavenly. the hair from his bun had fallen out, framing his pleasure-filled face, and the veins on his arms pop out so much from how harshly he’s grabbing the wood.
“f-fuck, baby . .” his words are lost once you start bobbing your head, encasing his shaft deep in your mouth as you suck and lick and slobber over his thick cock, using your hands to stroke the places you can’t reach. a choked moan weasels itself out of geto when one of your hands deviate to play with his balls, squeezing lightly at the sack while you continue to lick the underside of his length.
“take me like a slut, don’t you?” geto says breathlessly, fingers going through your hair to gather the strands into a makeshift ponytail, cradling your head to guide your mouth, but he soon starts to thrust into your waiting mouth.
“want me to fuck your dirty whore mouth?” your professor asks and you hate how much it turns you on as he brings you off to let you breathe for a moment. you stick out your tongue, big doe eyes just pleading to be used as your hands anchor themselves down to his belt loops.
“y—yes, prof., give me everything you got,” geto hums, seemingly satisfied with your answer as he taps your tongue with his tip, cock so heavy and thick it makes you whine a little before he shoves it in without warning. the moan that rumbles deep in your throat sends vibrations up his body and he starts a pace immediately.
“that’s it, that’s it—” you breathe through your nose as geto face fucks you, two hands covering the back of your head as he thrusts into your throat. your mouth’s just so damn warm and tight it has geto groaning non-stop while your eyes start to well up with tears. he uses you like a cocksleeve, abusing your throat each time his tip meets with it.
“fuuuckk— yes, yes, your throat’s so—” geto tilts his head back when he buries his cock in you, the deepest he’s ever been and your nose meets with his pubes, the smell of his musk and sweat making your eyes roll back in pleasure. suguru is all grunts before moving again, the gagging, gawking noises filling the small space.
“mmhm— mmf!” you moan around his length, trying your best to move your tongue along the underside of his cock. a hand goes down to quell the growing need of your cunt, slipping a finger or two in.
“dirty girl just can’t think straight when she has a— s-shit— cock in her, huh?”
you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering when you feel his tip twitch in your mouth and geto spills right into your throat with a long moan. your lids flutter close, taking as much cum as you can before coming off with a deep breath. strings of his cum and your saliva connect you to his cock, the lewdness of it all showing clearly in how sloppily you sucked your professor off.
“open.” and you show your tongue still full of his cum, taking the opportunity to lean down to let a ball of spit fall from his mouth. it drops painfully slow to your tongue, closing it only when you hear the rasp of swallow, “good girl.”
“think i’ve kept you waiting for too long, need to be in you,” geto brings you up by your upper arms, propping you up nicely onto his desk where you already start to leak into the wood, “do you want me to be in you?”
“only if you promise to stop picking on me, prof.,” you pout. really, a changed girl once you get some cock, huh?
“but you’re too cute not to bother, baby.” your pout deepens and geto feels a tug on his heart. oh, you were too adorable, knowing you’d kill him the next time he mentions this. he hopes they’ll be a next time.
“i mean it, suguru,” you murmur as he uses his tip to play with your juices, smearing it around your cunt. “treat me like a proper person.”
“can i at least treat you like a slut behind closed doors?”
you bit your lip, he’s asking for a next time, and who are you to reject him?
“whatever you want, professor,” you wiggle your hips along his cock, hoping for some friction which he grants to you with no problem, “use me. treat me like your cum dump.”
geto hisses at your tightness and your words as he bottoms out in you. he’s had your pussy once and already cannot get enough of you, moaning each time he moves in and out of your cunt. your walls hug him so snugly, sucking his cock in endlessly.
“baby, baby, baaaby . . your pussy’s so fuckin’— good—” he grunts into your ears, hips starting to thrust slowly into you. he swears he can see you in your tummy, asking you to look down, “look at how deep i am in you, sweetheart.”
you moan at just how big he was as you glance down, but you’re more focused on the way your pussy spreads for him, the cute veins on his length as he moves in you. you’re leaking so much that it’s effortlessly, the way he rams into you.
“sugu— suguru . . mmfuck—” geto groans upon feeling you rub your clit, your own hips bucking needily into his own as your juices start to drip down his balls. this was everything that he hoped would happen; your features morphed into pleasure, you descending into stupidity just from some dick, feeling your pussy, finally.
“hear yourself?” your professor proposes the question and you’re confused for a moment until he slows down and you whine at the sudden change, brought to attention just how soaking you were. the soft shlick, shlick, shlick sounds take your breath away, as with the translucent sheen of your juices coating his cock.
there, your professor resumes his pace, “hear how fuckin’ sloppy this pussy is for me. listen to her,” your senses are all overwhelmed: by how he hits all your sweet spots, the sweat on your back, your fast-beating heart and you let out a mangled whimper, “yesss . . that’s what i like to hear.”
geto smirks at how you can’t even answer, picking up his pace into a regular one. with his cock buried deep in you, you have no choice but to let your body move with his thrusts, jerking each time his balls meet your ass noisily.
“is this what the little lady needed? just some professor cock to get her to not be so damn uptight!”
“y—yessss . .” you’re delirious, “yesyesyes, suguru!” you squeal when he holds your legs up and pushes your legs into your chest, tongue lolling out at the deepness that he was in you.
“fucking slut,” geto mumbled, hips turning sloppy with fatigue taking over, but your cunt was just too good to stop, “where d’you want me to cum, baby?” he knows you’ll answer how he wants you to, especially after watching his livestream—
“i-inside— inside, pleaseplease,” the circles on your clit are messy, now, chasing your high more than ever, but your pussy is grasping onto him like a vice, prompting groans deep from his throat. “want your cum dripping out of me, prof—”
those words alone has geto shooting his load with a strangled grunt, switching to shallow, quick thrusts to pump you full of his cum. it comes out in hot, thick spurts, filling your insides more and more until it spills out the sides and you follow soon after, whole body convulsing from the intense orgasm you can’t stop shaking violently.
“take it— that’s it, attagirl,” he whines out, stroking his length to make sure you’re getting every last drop out of him, “take all my cum . .”
geto is sure he’s getting old by the way he feels lightheaded, having had to hold onto the edge of the table for a minute — but in that 60 seconds you’ve stumbled off the table and laid your chest over it, perking your ass up where your pussy continues to leak hot, white cum.
your professor takes one good look at your ass, hands going up to knead at them and spreads your cheeks. with his tongue, he eats his cum out of you, making your jerk at the sensitivity.
“oops, i’ve cleaned you up of my cum — guess i gotta give you a couple more loads,” geto props a leg up, eating you out, “it’s only right since my brightest student has suffered so much at my hands . .”
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tagging @arminsumi @shidouryusm @suguruplsr @crysugu @slttygeto @suget @sonarspace @marimogf @hannzai &lt;3 ok gn
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ziminy · 2 months ago
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Run little butterfly
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You were trying to run from home when you met him, disappearing from his side just the way you appeared next to him, in a dramatic way out of nowhere. And now that he found you, he won't let you go ever again.
Tags: smut, mdni, f!Cinderella reader, king!sukuna, true form sukuna, Sukuna's hand mouth (you'll see what I'm talking about), oral (m and f receiving), first time, fingering, creampie, crying, double penetration, two dicks kuna, Sukuna being a little bit too obsessed with you, jealousy, Sukuna haves a harem,
Author's note: this is a last minute fic I came up with to not leave sukuna out this year's list. Don't worry bbg, I'll never forget about you😘
Author's note: a very much different version of Cinderella. I was thinking of sticking to the original but it doesn't really scream me, so I had to change it.
Masterlist kinktober masterlist
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You were the only child of a small noble house. You grew up enjoying the little's of life, trying to understand the beauty of it and the people next to you.
Your father was gone most of the time since he was traveling for work. You had your mother next to you, making you feel less sad and looking forward for the next day to come.
But your happiness didn't lasted for long, because your mother fell ill. And not long after that, she unfortunately passed away, leaving you and your father all alone.
It was sad, your favorite person in the world disappearing just in a blink of an eye.
You didn't even had time to mourn her death and your father remarried, bringing home a woman you never saw in your life and two other kids who happened to be the same age as you.
You were ignored most of the time, your father gone and your new mother couldn't give a single fuck about what you were doing.
You wished you could go back in time when no one would look in your direction. Because the moment your father also passed away, your life did a 180.
Everything happened way to fast, losing your family, now even the servants leaving because that woman was refusing to pay them. You were also moved to the attic.
You couldn't catch a single break since that woman and her daughters were mistreating you everyday.
You stayed there for a few years, that until you turned old enough to leave somewhere far away and live independently.
You didn't cared about the house, the memories, the people you once loved anymore. All you wanted was to run as soon as possible.
So, one afternoon, right after everybody called it a day and you were supposed to go to sleep, you tried to make your escape.
Taking a horse, you made your way to the gate, getting ready to run so far away that you won't have to ever think about this place again.
You followed the main path, going and going, not stopping until you were out of town.
For the first time in years, you were happy. The more you were getting away from that hell hole, the more you smiled.
After good minutes of getting further away from that house, you calmed down. Feeling at a safe distance to finally breath and let all the weight from your shoulders drop.
You stopped in front of an inn. Getting off your horse and leave it in front of the illuminated building, petting it for a moment before you got some courage to get inside.
You had a few coins that you managed to save over the past few weeks. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you alive for a few days until you find some accommodation, a house that you could finally call your own.
You opened the door, immediately being met with a few people that were sitting at the tables. This places was a lot more full on the inside that it looked on the outside. Whatever, it was none of your business what other does when you had your own problems.
"I'd like to rent a room for the night." you said when you got to the counter.
"I have to check what rooms I have available." the older man in front of you said.
"Also, I have a horse outside. Do you have a stable where I can move it to?" you asked, hoping that your loyal friend will get a good night sleep.
"In the back." you wasted no more time and went outside, moving your horse to a comfortable stable where it could rest for a while.
Now, you were walking back to the inn, ready to pay for your room and sleep until tomorrow morning, then take off to another town and only imagining how life would be stress free.
Right outside the inn, there was an extremely tall guy, you could only see his body form because he had his face covered with the hood of his cloak.
You only looked at him for a moment, but right before you were about to enter the tavern, you felt some arms on you, being dragged to the side.
Your heart was about to get out your chest, you thought that was the end of your journey. Here goes your freedom. It haven't even been an hour and you were caught already.
But instead of your evil step mother or her ugly daughters, you were met with that tall man from earlier.
"I must admit, they did a good job this time." he said in a low voice that gave you chills down your spine. You were confused, not understanding his words, but you didn't dared to open your mouth. You just stood there, silent, waiting for an explanation.
You looked at him with big eyes, you could bearly see his face since it was dark outside, and the light from inside the inn wasn't giving you any help to figure out who he was.
He knew nothing about you and he was already salivating. You were nothing like he saw before. Daring to show up before him in peasants clothes, looking tired and full of anxiety. And yet, you looked so sweet that he couldn't help but want to break you already.
He thought he said he doesn't want any kind of unwanted guests during his trip, but he's not complaining about it when you looked so ready to take him.
He couldn't help but laugh, making you even more confused, and now trying to get away.
When you thought that you could get free, you felt another pair or arms around you. Now you got four arms on you, two on your hips and keeping you in place, one hand on your arm and one under your chin, lifting it up to look at him.
All you could see were his red eyes, that looked like they're glowing.
He looked like a beast who just captured his prey and you couldn't help but feel scared, he was way too intimidating.
His eyes scaned your face for a moment, looking at the dumb expression you had, and then it went lower.
Your lips look so tasty. He wanted to kiss you just to see how you'll react, even if he's usually the type to avoid such act.
Usually, his women would come into his room, look all dolled up and pretty before they take care of him and then leave. No questions asked, no feelings involved.
However, you look so dumb. He couldn't help but want to tease you. To touch you and overstimulate you until you're even more stupid that you already are.
He leaned down, getting his face closer to yours, somehow trying to anticipate your next move. Will you moan or will you keep quiet? Now he wanted to hear your broken cries even more.
He stopped right in front of your face, your noses almost touching. All he did was to look at you.
You froze, all the air from your lungs stopping in place. You couldn't process what was going on.
"Don't use that pretty brain on things you don't understand." even he can't understand why he was acting like that. Craving for you even if this is the first time he saw you.
You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but you couldn't say a single word. Your voice was stuck in your throat.
"Forget about everything they told you. That training was irrelevant." training? What was he talking about? "I make the rules, remember that." right, you shouldn't listen to his servants telling you how to please him. He knows himself better than them.
He misunderstood this completely. You weren't one of his new added toys to his collection. You had no idea who he even was to begin with.
But he didn't cared, his face continued moving, ignoring whatever questions you might have as his lips finally touched yours.
His eyes were cold, and so was his touch. His hands were roughly placed on your body, dragging you closer in his arms. His kisses were loveless, no sign of affection as he tried to deeper the kiss.
Taking all the warmth you had to offer, his cold body was slowly becoming warmer. Bathing in your scent, one of his hands went behind your head, holding you in place to be able to kiss you better. One of his hands on yours, trying to wrap it around his body, wanting to feel more of your touch.
He wanted to be in your arms, to feel how is it when you hold him tightly.
Fuck is even wrong with him. He's not usually like this but now his cocks were hard against his pants, wanting to break free and be inside you. Ah, but he's going feral just thinking about your warm wet cunt taking all of him in. And you must take him in, he won't let you rest until you can take him properly.
"Master." someone could be heard from behind a corner, making you jump and almost run from there.
"Tsk." the tall man said annoyed, getting his face away from you, now fixing his posture but still having you in his arms.
"I prepared the thing you asked me to." that person said again, not daring to show their face.
"Alright." the man said annoyed, finally getting his arms away from you. He looked at you for one more time before he left, leaving you all alone to process what just happened.
You couldn't possibly remain there for the night, you had to leave this place, and you had to leave now. That guy was nothing but a big red flag. Everything about him screamed danger, and you weren't stupid enough to fuck around and find out.
So, in a desperate attempt to get away from there, you went back to the stables, getting your horse out and getting on top of it. You left that place in a hurry, not looking back for a moment as you went back to the place you consider to be safe. By safe I meant that he couldn't possibly appear there, there's no way he could.
So, you ran back to that hell house. Leaving the horse back in its place as you quickly ran inside the house.
Never in your life did you think you'll be so happy to see the same old kitchen you spend most of your time into. And never were you so happy to run to the attic and jump into that rusty bed, falling asleep immediately.
But when you finally got home, the mysterious stranger that you met at the inn just finished his task. Getting into his room and calling for someone to get you to him. He couldn't help but want to ravish you right there and then, split you open on his dicks and pump a few loads in you.
"There's no one in this inn that describes that appearance." were they shitting on him now?
"This female that was recently added to the harem." he tried to find other words to explain it. He knew nothing about you besides how you looked and how sweet you taste for him.
"She's currently at the palace. You told us you don't want to see her because of how inexperienced she was." he did that, didn't he. He remembers something now, a girl with long dark hair getting into his bed wearing nothing but a red transparent bathrobe. She was nothing but talk, it made him lose interest immediately.
"Then I want to see all the females in this inn." he got to find you. He knows you're real, it was no way you weren't.
"There are no other guests besides us." then who the fuck were you? Why did you appeared only before him and then disappeared after making him so hungry for you. Were you a piece of his imagination? No wander he wanted to touch you so bad.
Then he haves no option but to look for someone similar to you, his vision, when he gets back to the palace.
And that night, one of you slept better than a a cat napping under the sunlight and the other was wide awake the whole time.
Sure, the next day came and it reminded you of why you tried to run in the first place, but wasn't it better when you knew you won't have to deal with strangers. Especially someone like that brute of a man.
Your chores and the harassment those three women gave you was annoying, but after yesterday, you'll managed to live a few more weeks with it.
When the weather clears, you'll go out again, and this time you'll do a lot more better.
But perhaps, the universe was giving you a much better solution than to sneak out the house.
Because, you see, by the end of that week your house received a invitation to the Royal ball, and it says that the king is finally going to chose a queen.
Your sisters were running around in circles trying to find a good dress. And the mess they made while looking around was giving you headaches.
But you couldn't really complain when you're planning to leave while they're at the ball.
"Can I come to the ball?" you asked with a basket full of clothes in your hands, being tasked to wash and iron them by the end of the day.
"Mother! Do you hear her nonsense?" one of the sisters yelled, making you close your eyes at the loud noise.
"She can't! Mother!" the other sister said, going to her mother and trying to beg her to say no.
"Do you think they need more servants there? It's a happy ceremony, not a job interview." you knew no was the answer, but still. You tried to see if something changed at least in one of them. Hoping to find a reason to stay in this house for a little longer.
The moment they left in their carriage to the ball, it was the moment you ran out the house and ready to get on the horse.
"Now now, no need to be sad." a masculine voice could be heard behind you, making you turn around instantly.
Two men, both of them dressed in black, one with long black hair and the other with white hair and sun glasses.
"We're here to save you." the white haired guy said, making you raise an eye brow. "Aren't you glad?"
"Who are you?" they acted like it was normal for two unknown men to appear in your yard and act all nonchalant.
"Your fairy godmother."
"But you're two, and men." you tried to correct their words.
"We come in a package. And being a fairy godmother sounds better than a fairy godfather." the white haired guy said.
"Gojo and I will help you go to the ball." the dark haired man said.
"I don't want to." you refused, getting your horse out and ready to get on it.
"But you looked so sad earlier." the white haired guy sounded like he was mocking you. "Come on, don't lie to us."
"If you want to do something for me then kick those women out." it was much better than going to a ball you weren't invited to.
"But you look like you already have your future planned out. Why would we interfere?"
"Then why are you here?" you said, getting ready to get on your horse.
"We better get started or you'll arive when the ball is finished." out of nowhere both of them got some kind of wands in their hands, moving it around in the air before both of them started to do their magic.
"If you're going to a ball you'll need a carriage." the dark haired guy said and you saw a pumpkin floating in the air, getting in front of you and slowly becoming bigger, slightly changing its color and shape.
"We need horses too." the other man said and some mices were turned into horses.
"And a coachman." they looked like they were having fun while you were still very much miserable.
"What about the dress?"
"Something blue?" with a hand movement, your clothes were changed into a big ball gown dress. "And look, glass slippers."
"That will be uncomfortable." the dark haired guy said, getting ready to change your shoes into something more comfortable.
"No, no. They're very much comfortable. Try to walk around." the other guy said, making you walk back and forth and give him a review of how your shoes were.
"It's good. My feet doesn't hurt." you said and try to jump around to show that everything was alright.
"Okay then. Get inside." both of them pushed you inside the carriage.
"You have until midnight to come back."
"The spell breaks when the clock shows 12. Remember that."
"Now go, and don't come back until you had all the fun you needed." they both disappeared into thin air. Leaving you alone in a carriage on the way to a ball you didn't want to go to.
You could jump out the carriage and go back home. But if you're being honest, you want to have a last good memory before you leave your good for nothing status and name and live freely.
A ball didn't sounded that bad. There would be music, food, and a lot of people so you won't have to worry about standing out. There's peacocks out there who are trying too hard to make themselves distinguished, so, you're good.
The castle was a lot bigger up close. You could see it every day from your window in the morning. It already looked big, but now? Damn, you're scared you'll stand out because you have no idea how to act like a noble.
You took a deep breath before getting out of the carriage. Grabbing a bit of your dress in your hands, to help you walk up the stairs.
With small steps, you took your time, looking around at the beautiful paintings and the way the whole place looked like it was covered in gold.
There were guards everywhere. It was a bit scary, if you think about it, but you chose to ignore it.
"Excuse me." you went to someone who looked like they worked there. "Do you know where the ballroom is at?" you asked, being lost in that foreign place.
"This way, miss." the man said in a professional voice, showing you the way to the place where you'll spend the next few hours before you disappear for good.
You went inside the room, being welcomed with a lot of people who didn't looked twice in your direction.
The ballroom was filled with music, but no one was dancing. Rather than that, they were talking between themselves.
Rich people, what do you know.
Most of them were dressed in a similar way to you, but there were some who went over the top. And now that you're thinking about it, your step sisters were doing too much. They probably stand out like crazy, and you couldn't help but giggle.
You decided to go and look around. What's a party without food and drinks?
Making your way between people who didn't wanted to move and inch, you found a table with some desserts on it. They look so tasty, and the taste was even more incredible. Can you steal a few for your journey? Or can you pretend to be a worker there and sneak into the kitchen?
Happy with your discovery, you took a plate of some cake and went to sit somewhere where no one will disturb you.
A small couch that was surrounded by little to no people. And you couldn't ask for more.
You sat on it, enjoying the sweet in your hands, the peace and the fact that no one was giving you any attention.
But the thing is, that if you payed some attention you would have saw why no one dared to stay there. It was the closest couch to the king.
It was in the right side of the throne, just a few feet away from it.
How could you be so blind? How could you not notice that brute of a man. Standing so tall that you could see him from a few crowds away, four arms, not two like the rest of the people in that ballroom. Pink hair that looked like candy, and yet it didn't made him look any softer.
Unlike you, he noticed the person who sat on the couch right away.
His eyes widened, mouth slightly opened as he kept looking at you again and again. Blinking, rubbing his eyes and then blinking again.
"You see that person?" the king asked the closest person next to him, to confirm he wasn't seeing things.
"The lady in the blue dress?" that was all he needed to hear to know he was in fact not hallucinating.
He got up, ignoring who ever dared to come his way and walk to you, stopping right in front of you who still haven't acknowledged his existence.
You raised your head when you finally noticed him, mouth full of delicious cake. You had the same big round eyes he remembers. You gulped, swallowing the sweet down your throat. He haven't said a word since he stopped in front of you, still being in his own world, still not believing that you came to him yourself. He didn't had to look for a replacement anymore.
"Can I help you?" your voice was like magic to him. It could make him melt if you said the right words.
He laughed, a big smirk on his face. But that only made you confused.
You looked left and then right, looking for a clue on what's going on. Perhaps he wanted to sit down and this was the only available space. You knew that nobles have some complicated etiquettes they follow, so maybe he's waiting for you to do something?
Ah, you finally get it. You got up, bowing politely to let him know that was your goodbye. But when you wanted to turn around, you suddenly woke up in the air, and a pair of arms wrapped around you.
"Wha-" panicked, you grabbed onto him. But now that you look at the situation, he was the one who got you in his arms, carrying you out of there. "What are you doing?" this couldn't be normal.
"Don't act like you don't remember me now." his words made sense to you, somehow.
He looked familiar, but you couldn't figure out from where. You don't know his name, this was the first time you saw his face, but that voice sounded so familiar. And his body, it also looked like you saw it before.
He walked around the castle like he owned it. Opening door after door, and getting deeper inside it, and far away from the ballroom.
"Who are you?" he was no ordinary person, you could see that. He walked freely without a single person saying a thing.
He made the guards look like decorations, and they didn't dared to say a thing to him. The palace workers bowed before him, and even the nobles were trying to please him.
"Where are you taking me?" you asked when you figured the answer to the first question.
He still didn't said a word and open one last door.
This room was deep inside the palace, you'd get lost if you try to run from there on your own. But perhaps that was what he wanted from the start. To lock you somewhere you won't be able to run from even if you try to escape.
That place had a big bed in the middle of the room, a couch that was facing the fire place, a big bookcase filled from top to bottom and some really big windows. From what you can see out the windows, and the fact you just walked up a lot of stairs, you were really high up. You won't be able to survive without breaking a few bones if you try to jump.
He really thought of everything, huh?
Walking to the bed, he placed you on it. Turning around and walking towards the door. He didn't thought of finding you this soon, so he had no idea what to do.
"Can I.." you bite your lips before speaking, too afraid that you know the answer too well. "Can I still go home?" he paused when he got in front of the door, but didn't said a thing. "The guys that helped me get here told me to get back before midnight." he almost broke the door when he heard those words. The what? The guys? They did what? "This is actually a spell. I don't actually look like this." he turned around and marched to the bed.
There was something scary in his eyes. But you couldn't help but look at him.
Did you tricked him? Was someone plotting against him and send a doppelganger to play with him?
"Who sent you?"
"I have no idea." you looked away. He won't believe you even if you tell him.
"Tell me." his cold eyes could petrify anyone.
"You don't trust me." you shook your head, trying to brush this off.
"I do. Now tell me." he looked like he could kill you right there, and no one would say a thing about it. You won't be missed, you won't be mourned. You don't even have someone to think about even in your last moments of living.
"Can I leave or not?" your voice just as cold as his, and for a moment he could feel his blood boil. You talked to other men, they send you there to the palace to make a clown out of him and now you dared to act like it was his fault for locking you in a place where he knows you won't run from.
"No." you sighed at his response. Disappointed in yourself for even trying, for listening to some strange men and for not running away when you had the perfect chance to.
"At midnight I turn back to my usual self. I'm not like this, I don't dress this way. You won't like me anymore after that." he was looking for a replacement from the start. This ball was held to find a doll that resembled you. And he found it. You can turn into a hideous monster and he'll find a way to turn you back into this form.
"And you think that I care?"
You looked confused. You had no idea what was going on in his head. What made him act like this and why.
Did you looked like an ex lover? Or someone who passed away? Because if that's the case, then he won't find what he's looking for in you.
"I won't submit to you." you tried to make it clear. "I'm my own person. I can't act like someone else."
He takes your words as a challenge.
He'll transform you into the perfect puppet. You'll match his expectations and taste in all aspects. You'll love him with all your heart and wait for him to return to you at the end of the day. All you need is a little training. And by how things looks, you'll need an intense one.
"You think you can defy me, brat?" he was mocking you. His voice was so annoying.
His face, his body, his status, everything was getting on your nerves now.
"I'm going home." you said. It wasn't a question or request, you were letting him know.
"Try." the shock look on your face was priceless. You looked offended by his words and he couldn't ask for more. He lied, he will get more out of you. Words, expression, feelings, he wants to see everything.
You tried to get up the bed, ignoring the fact that he was right in front of you. He didn't stopped you, he just looked at your dumbfounded expression when your actions weren't stopped by him.
He laughed, his voice filling the whole room.
You looked like you were going to cry, and he couldn't help but want to bite you. Sink his teeth deep into your flesh and leave marks all over your body.
For a moment, you stopped in place, not daring to get close to the door anymore.
Where have you felt that feeling before? The feeling of being watched by a ferocious predator.
You slowly turn around, to look at him who was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. You recognize those red eyes now. It's the same as back then, when you almost successfully ran from home but you were met with that freak who made you turn around.
The realization look you had on your face made his eyes darker.
You had to get out of there, now.
You were if full panic mode, slowly walking backwards to the door, putting your hands on the handle and open it. Not a single second wasted as you ran down that hallway, dress in your arms and trying to get as far away from him as possible.
You stopped just for a moment to look back when you got to some stairs. He was nowhere to be seen, and you didn't know if you actually lost him or he was playing with you.
Whatever, you can think about that after you run from there.
The midnight clock could be heard in the background, but you weren't preoccupied by it. In fact, you couldn't even hear it, too focused on running down that mountain of stairs.
One of your shoes slipped off your foot. You turned around to look at it, and then you saw him, at the end of the stairs and looking down at you.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you almost stopped working for a moment.
Leave it there, a shoe didn't matter when you had far more things to worry about.
You soon got to a hallway, a big open door a few meters away of you, and you couldn't help but run even faster. But the closer you got, the more the door close. And by the time you got to it, it was completely shut.
"No, please!" you banged on the door. "Let me through." no answer.
You tried to open it, pulling it as hard as you can, but nothing. Going back wasn't an answer, and there weren't any other rooms that you could hide in.
There was only one option left. So many windows on your right, it was easy to open one and try to escape. And so you did, you opened a window and looked down for a moment. A broken neck doesn't sounds that bad, if you're thinking about it.
You took a deep breath, with a hand lifting as much of your dress in your arms, and with the other holding onto the window, ready to jump on it and see what the outcome of this event will be.
With no hesitation, you placed your knee on the window frame, trying to balance yours with your other foot and get on top of the window. But then you felt those big muscular arms wrapped around you once again.
"I didn't thought you had the balls to do it." his mouth was right into your ear, his voice leaving chills all over your body. "I might lock you in the basement if you continue to be a bad girl." he can do it, who's stopping him. You won't give up without a good fight.
"So? What do you want from me?" with this he knew you were the person he was looking for. Daring to disappear again just like back at the inn. You loved getting on his nerves, didn't you?
"We have unfinished business." what was he talking about?
"I didn't do anything." and that's the problem. The fact that you left him when he needed you. How dare you.
"Look at the time." he said when he was walking back on the stairs, holding you in his arms. With two holding your body and the other two wrapped around you, in case you planned on doing something crazy again.
"I told you, this is all a spell." and he can't wait for it to go away.
He stopped in place, and you had no idea what he was going to do. "Your shoe." he said, looking at the glass slipper.
"That would disappear too." but that didn't stopped him from moving one of his hands from you and picking up the glass slipper.
He continued walking back to that cursed room, throwing you in bed.
"Let's wait for the spell to break." he sat on a chair next to the door, waiting for your next move. Will your run to the door and try to escape again? Will you jump on him and try to harm him or will you try to jump out the window? He couldn't help but feel exited for your next move.
The disappointed look on his face when you just stood there. Looking down at the floor and from time to time at him with a ugly look in your eyes. You hated him? But that's a strong feeling, wasn't it?
And your words were true. You started glowing, and soon your appearance slightly changed. Your clothes were back to your old rags, your make up gone and your hair freely on your back.
He waited, excited. He couldn't help but wet his lips with his tongue, gulping and pressing his palms against each other. You better transform or he'll do it for you.
He expected more. He thought he'll see something unseen before. A monster, or you at your worst. You got him overthinking that your previous appearance was all a lie, but now you got him to want to bully you for lying to him.
He got up, getting closer to the bed. He stood there before you, expressionless, before he pushed you in bed, making you fall on your back.
"I didn't know you were a liar."
"What do you mean? The spell broke."
"You look exactly the same." he was on top of you, caging you between him and the bed. "You look even better than before." he was strange, truly.
"I still want to go home." you'll try as much as you can. There must be something that will work on this guy.
"I don't want you to."
"And who are you to decide for me?" he didn't respond to your question, choosing to ignore it like most of your questions. Instead, he smashed his lips against yours, his craving for your touch far too loud to ignore it.
And then it hits you. If you distract him, and act all sweet, you might actually be able to fool him and run away.
So, your hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer to you. He looked shocked, and for a moment he just stood there.
"What?" you spit those words at him, annoyed. Even if you cooperate with him, your words can't help but show your true colors.
"Take your clothes off." you gasped.
"I'm not doing this before marriage." you said, not wanting to do more than kissing.
"Consider the ball tonight the wedding ceremony." you looked at him in disbelief. "I'll take them off if you don't want to." even worse.
"I never did this before." you said. Maybe he'll have a heart and try to understand your situation.
"It's definitely going to hurt." no encouragement words? What a dickhead.
"I'll do it myself, no need for you to do a thing." you got up the bed, your hands traveling here and there, taking your time while undressing.
He stood at the edge of the bed, watching your every move. You can run if you want, the door is open, and it would stay that way until he leaves that room. So, you can try as much as you want, it's entertaining watching you fail.
But you didn't run, instead, you did as he said. Taking your clothes off with shaking hands and biting off any bad words you wanted to say out loud.
"Come and help me too." he could only laugh at your expression. But you got closer to the bed, no protests. He better sleep with his eyes open tonight.
He placed his much bigger hand on top of yours, dragging it on him.
You had no idea what to do. You kept looking at his body, at his arms, at his big chest, his shoulders. "Try and undress me, not just with your eyes." he was too much.
You slowly took whatever you could off him, and he just looked at you the whole time.
Now, when both of you were naked, you just stood there in front of him. You couldn't help but stare. He had two cocks, not one but two. I mean, he haves two of everything, but you didn't expect for him to have two dicks as well.
"Close your mouth and stop staring." he laughed at your dumbfounded expression.
"I don't know what to do." he tapped the placed next to him with his palm.
"Lay down here." you layed down on the bed, waiting for what he planned on doing. "You have to open your legs more." isn't he asking for too much already? One of his hands traveled in between your legs. "Look at me." you was expecting everything but to feel something licking your clit. You gasped, and looked at his hand. It was just a hand but it didn't felt that way at all. He laughed again. "I told you to look at me. Don't think of things you can't understand." but you don't get it. You could feel a tongue, traveling between your folds, going up and down, playing with your pearl.
"What's that?" you asked out of breath, forgetting how to even breath for a moment.
"This?" he showed you his palm, which was having a mouth on it. Since when was it there? His hand went back between your legs, playing with your clit again, one of his other hands joining in, as you felt something at your entrance. "Keep your eyes on mine or I'll give you something to occupy yourself with." you had no idea what he was planning to do. With a quick move, he stood up, his dicks against your face. "You know what to do." you looked up at him, at his dumb grin and then at his friends that were right in your face. "Open your mouth." one of his thumbs was on your lips, pressed against it to make you open it and suck on it. He then moved his hand and took one of his cocks, giving it to you to do your thing.
You weren't trained to please him, but even so, he had some expectations from you.
You could do it. If others could, so can you. But look at you, who can't even take half of his fat cock into your mouth.
"Do good and I'll reward you." he said and added another finger inside your wet pussy. "See?" he said and curled his fingers. "Now get to work."
With your head pressed against his thigh, you wrapped a hand around one of his cocks, while trying to take the other in your mouth.
He let out a loud groan, making you unsure if you should continue or stop.
A promise is a promise, and he's true to his words. Since you're trying so hard to please him, he should return the favor. He kept curling his fingers, going in and out of you as his mouth kept playing with your pretty clit. He was touching all the good places, he knew that, and he didn't stopped a bit. Now determined to discover even more places and touch better than before.
Your walls started to clench around him, squeezing him so tight and making him wander how that will feel around his cock.
"You wanna cum? You better keep working then." his words made you try even harder, too desperate of that foreign feeling inside of you.
He kept moving his hands, and you kept trying to figure out what to do to him. But oh, you were so close that you couldn't think straight anymore. And it happened in a flash, your mind going blank and trembling under his touch as you came.
He kept his hands moving for a little longer before stopping, when you finally came to your senses.
"Now focus on me." his hands went away from you, now gripping your hair and pushing your head down his length. You tapped his thigh, too afraid you won't be able to breathe anymore. He moved your head, sometimes he moved his own hips, and soon, he was going to cum too. "Don't let spill anything. Swallow." he said before cumming down your throat.
This was more than enough. You didn't had the strength to go further than this.
Intimacy can be too tiring. And he looked like he enjoys sucking the energy out of you.
"We're not done yet." not yet? What more does he wants from you?
He got on top of you, positioning between your legs. Two of his arms places next to you, while one held your hips. With his only free hand left, he held one of his cocks at your entrance, rubbing his head against your pussy. Getting his head inside your cunt, then drag it out to rub it between your folds, rubbing it against your clit. Then back at your warm entrance again, slowly getting his head inside, just to get out and then again.
He was playing with you. He was enjoying seeing you mad.
But this time, when he got his tip inside of you, he kept pushing, going deeper and deeper. And he didn't stopped until he got inside all the way in.
Warm, wet and hugging him just right. He loved it. He could stay inside of you forever.
His face got closer to yours, looking at you and at the way you were struggling to fit him in. But he been so attentive to you, and you can't even fit him in.
Slowly, he moved his hips, in and out at a calm pace. It gave you all the time you needed understand how you managed to fit him in. And it also gave him time to understand how painfully slow this was.
His revenge was going to wait a lot before he fucks you properly.
He wanted to rearrange your inside for the way you left him, but now he had no option but to wait.
He's going crazy. He's dying in your arms and you're not doing anything. You're not talking to him, you're not looking at him.
He grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together and making your lips come forward.
"What?" you tried to say.
He kissed you, making you wrap your arms around him as he kept moving his hips.
This was better, when you held him in your arms was so much better. It made this fire inside of him calm down and let him realize the situation he's in.
One of his hands went between your bodies, softly rubbing your clit as he kept moving, making your bodies slightly rock together.
His tongue inside your mouth, his movement was so sloppy, not having a proper rhythms but keep increasing the force he kept slamming into you with.
The first orgams pulled out of you with force, him not giving you a moment to breath and keep going for it until he filled your warm walls with his hot cum.
But when you thought it was over, it never was.
He got out of you, giving you a break for a moment before you felt him back between your legs, this time a lot more bigger. He had both of his dicks in his hand, now trying to push them inside of your pussy to fill you up.
"It won't fit." you said, trying to stop him from this madness.
"Take a deep breath." he said before finally managing to get inside.
He was going to kill you, because this was too much. The way he split you open, being stretched out like never before. And he kept moving his hips too, like the fact that you still haven't accommodate to this strange feeling meant nothing to him.
It hurted, but at the same time, the way he kept you open felt good. And you hate to admit it but you might cum just from this alone.
His hips kept moving, and this weird feeling started to feel so much better. It went to the point where you started crying, too much for you to handle.
"Shh. You can take it." he said, a hand moving some hair away from your face.
He liked those hot tears that were falling from your eyes. It made him wander why he didn't try to make you cry a lot earlier.
Can you even come again? He can't help but wander. Guess he haves to find that out himself.
Pounding into you, keeping you wrapped in his arms and not giving you a break. He managed to make you cum again, now focused on the way your squeezing him again. And just like last time, he painted your insides white, this time getting you fuller than last time.
But it's not over, because he haves to try this again, but from another position.
You didn't managed to last too long and fell asleep in his arms, the next day waking all alone in there.
You wasted no time in putting your clothes back on and running out that room, down the stairs and back into that hallway. Being welcomed with a close door that was blocking your way out. Now having no choice but go back to that room and wait for him to arrive back. Who knows what he's planning to do this time.
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Author'a note: I was planning on making Gojo and Geto the step brothers but then it would have because their fan fic. I might write something similar to this but for them. Dunno tho, I'm too lazy to do it.
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meyhew · 2 months ago
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“WHAT WE MOURN FOR THE DEAD IS THE LOSS OF THEIR HOPES.”
I never thought I’d make this post. Any time I imagined a One Direction member dying, I pictured myself weathered and grey. This was an eventuality that wasn’t supposed to be actualized until the boys and I had lived full lives. To have to come to terms with Liam’s death—his perpetual absence moving forward—in my mid twenties feels absurd. I wrote a long thing the day after I found out, so I’ve already gotten some thoughts out. I’m going to try and keep this short. I likely won’t succeed.
Liam was kind. If he’s remembered for anything, I hope it’s that. I know he helped out with food banks in London during lockdown because there were photos of him packing boxes, but I didn’t know until now how much money he gave them. £80,000 without any publicity. And it wasn’t a one-time donation. He kept working with various orgs to help food insecure people. In the week leading up to that unfortunate Wednesday, he gave away thousands to fundraisers—primarily set up to help people with severe illnesses. He’d been part of Soccer Aid for years. He was involved with anti-bullying campaigns. He worked with Rays of Sunshine to make hundreds of sick children happy. Over the years, he also donated to nonprofits that help children in Gaza and other places. The T-shirt he designed for Choose Love has garnered nearly £200,000; Choose Love has been working with the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund and Medical Aid for Palestinians to provide desperately needed aid in Gaza. Liam understood the value of his wealth, and what his social responsibility was. He did his part to make this world better.
All that without taking into account everything Liam did for us. The youtube videos he started during quarantine because it was a way to distract people, give them something to look forward to. His comedic timing was something special. The discord server where he talked to fans and highlighted their creative endeavors. His livestreams, the endless culture-defining tweets he made. I still see people laughing about his tweets. We all remember Mrs. Horan, yes? I mean, go all the way back to TwitCams. Just google the phrase and one of the first videos you get will be Liam’s. From day one, he took it upon himself to make sure the fans were happy. That we felt seen, heard. And he kept One Direction alive for us, on occasion at a great personal cost. He performed deep cuts we’d never seen sung live, he was always so enthusiastic about everyone else’s projects, he never shied away from talking about the band—because it made us happy. He knew what the band meant to us, the blend of hope and nostalgia many of us clung to, and he held on with us. For us. The masses ridiculed him for his clinginess, and he didn’t let go—for us. I’m sure he knew there are those of us for whom the name One Direction still means everything. And how right he was. Look at the global charts for the past two weeks. We’ve made history again. Because of Liam. He had been the glue holding a lot of the fandom together, whether people realized it or not. He brought us all together again in the most heartbreaking of ways.
One Direction came into my life at a time when I was becoming lonelier by the day. I had moved to a new country two years prior, and I didn’t yet have many friends because I knew only enough English to get by at school. Outside of school, I had no friends. They were all back home in the place I’d left. All I had was my two siblings—and when you’re 13 years old, your 14 yr old sister is hardly the person you want to spend all your time with. I didn’t have space for me, to do and to be something that was just mine.
Then I found 1d through a girl at school and they became that something for me. I bettered my English by watching them talk. I found this community because of them, and I have learned so much from being a part of it. So many wonderful people have touched my life because of them over the years, some I’ve fallen out of touch with and some I hung out with just this month. They—and, by extension, Liam—have made me wealthy in friendship.
Claudia, Ingrid, Mery; Thank you for putting up with my insanely specific demands and making headers for me. Ingrid, you’ve been so patient about teaching me how to gif. Mery, I still have your rec list for learning Spanish saved in my notes app. The TPWK print you gifted me hangs on my wall. Cloudy, do you remember that lineart you made of me? I still have it. You’ve all been so kind to me.
Rafa; You have no idea how much you’ve helped build my confidence as a writer. Lyab is a thing of the past now, but those hours you spent fleshing out the details of that fic are priceless to me. I’d never written anything so ambitious before. And, frankly, I don’t think I would’ve attempted a novel if I hadn’t written a 100k fic—which I couldn’t have done without your encouragement. I think this is my first time telling you I finished the first draft of my novel in September. Thank you <3
Yas; Beloved you are so dear to me. You have shown me such kindness over the years, at times I wondered what I had done to deserve it. Not many people check in with me the way you do. I value your presence in my life beyond words. You have so much love and affection to give, and I’m glad I get to receive so much of it.
If I wrote a personal note to everyone who’s in my life because of Liam we’d be here for hours and hours. Jess, Bella, Alex, Jack, Hayley, Hope, Soni, Kayla, Sara, Arsh, Tina, Ola, Cristal, Kylee, Hana, Ali, Antonise, Clare, Abby, Nina, fnh, mert, people I don’t follow anymore, everyone who’s come into my life because of liam—I love you. Literally every single person I follow should be named here because I wouldn’t even be on this website if it weren’t for 1d. You’re all so special to me.
I still can’t believe Liam is gone. I was at the grocery store and it hit me that it’s real, and I thought, no, there’s no way. It feels so fucking weird having this invisible hole in my life that’s never going to go away. But I’ll always be grateful for everything Liam brought into my life. I know I’ll grow old with a whole bunch of you in my life—I’ve already spent a decade with some of you in my life—and I wish Liam got to grow old and weathered with us all.
This is such an inadequate goodbye. I think I’ll keep coming up with things I wish I could tell Liam, or things I want to say to you all. There’s so much history here, so much to reminisce about. He took a piece of my adolescence with him. I’ll miss him forever. Too many of my memories are intertwined with him and I’ll miss him forever.
Sleep easy, Liam. I hope, in time, you’re remembered for your limitless capacity for love and your desire to do better, be better. You deserved more. 🤍
—————
tagging 1d people here because i know many blogs aren’t active on a regular basis. apologies if i missed someone (i’m sure i did). hugs for everyone
@1dclowns @hrrytomlinson @sandiazucar @fookinfreezin @hoeranghae @wlwmermald @tomlinsun @epubgf @heyangel @fireproofs @90sgrungelouis @lirry @iconichalo @itsnotreal @aquickstart @roguecurls @harryscuddles @hoteyelinerguy @babyy-honey @goldencereza @kindathoughtprovoking @kindofsharethat @fuchsiasea @queerbloodyangel @tofiveohfive @aboutmetamorphosis @wastelandbabyblue @delicatepointofview @twentybiqueen @girlcrushau @chaoticsue @chimnation @akasakasads @icouldbeluckyagain @alloutshirt @half-lightl @halohamilton @willowfey @meltedwings @softandslow @loustyles @onedirectiom @pop-punklouis @pridesobright @finexbright @femstyles @baawree @iamnathanscott @avocadolouie @userautumn @niallerer @itsnothesameasitwas @usignedupforthis @svpportive @svncourt
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wolfislost · 3 months ago
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Life as a Disabled Alterhuman
Let's talk about being alterhuman without being able bodied.
If you've never met me before, i'm a werewolf. I use the label of psychological otherkin, but nowdays I mostly just say alterhuman.
A lot of individuals in the community can relate to wanting to spend time in their natural ecosystem or habitat. Some of them don't live in a country where that habitat even exists.
Conceptually, I'm lucky. I'm surrounded by nature reserves that are an hour away at most. Some are much closer.
Every part of me wants to be out there, in the trees and bushes and soil, every week. I'm sure some of us ARE out there every week based on some of the responses I've gotten on my posts.
I can't be.
I'm chronically ill. Partly from birth, partly acquired later in life. My mobility is limited by my threshold for suffering. The more I move, the more i'll have to pay for it later. And those debts don't have an upper limit.
I would love to prioritise letting my animal out more, being in nature more, travelling more. Hell- even running. But not only would doing that wreck me over and over again, it would make it impossible for me to meet the demands and responsibilities of my human life.
As a werewolf, there's an internal pull towards more feral behaviour and imagery. But my chronic illness requires constant upkeep, constant maintenance. My wellbeing depends on frequent visits to professionals.
I've always dreamed of running off to a cabin in the woods. I'm sure many of you have. But it's patently impossible for someone like me, who relies so heavily on human healthcare to survive.
The truth is I wouldn't be able to function without humans to look after me. And I have responsibilities that come before my desires for freedom.
None of this stuff makes me any less of an alterhuman. Makes me any less of a werewolf. All of these smaller restrictions do add up to a certain kind of distance from the "ideal alterhuman" perhaps. But my identity has always been, and will always be, an internal thing for me.
I'm not a werewolf IN SPITE of being disabled.
I'm a werewolf who IS ALSO disabled.
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writing-mlm · 26 days ago
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Is it real?
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Summary: It’s thanksgiving, current plan: ignore your family, backup plan: stay for Alfred’s left overs. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader Wc: 7.1k A/n: I saw comments asking for part 2 so… rushed this out bc Thanksgiving is like… two(??) days away Warning: mentions of homophobic family but they’re silent the whole time, nothing negative is really just it’s just the feeling of knowing that they are
Damian had always known he liked men, there wasn’t one defining moment in his youth where it clicked. He didn’t watch some movie and fall in love with the lead actor, he didn’t have a love-at-first-sight moment that made everything make sense. It’s just something that’s always been. But falling for you had been something that had been gradual. 
At first, you were just some intern with a loud laugh and clearly hung out with not the best people. He’d seen you in the hallway of Gotham University, which was a surprise considering how large the campus is and he grew a little suspicious. He’s Robin, of course, he’s going to be suspicious of a coincidence. 
But falling for you had been incredibly easy when he looked back at it. He just remembers that one random night, after work and school, on your way back from patrol where he looked at you as you sang along (badly, he’d tease you and you’d say it was on purpose) to your patrolling playlist. It was this warm feeling that washed over him, his stomach tossed up and he was thankful that he got to spend his days next to you. It made him realize he’d been falling for a while now and in that moment, it all just felt right. 
Truly Damian had never expected love to be that simple. He had expected it to be something akin to trials of battle. Something he had to defend like he defended himself. How grateful he is that he was wrong about something. 
He considers himself lucky in that regard. 
He looks at you as the two of you sit in the garden, looking at the fallen white snow cloaking the nearly barren bushes. The cold is nipping at his nose and it’s starting to snow again. His pants are wet and cold, his hands tense with what he thinks are the early signs of frostbite. But you look lovely, you look like everything he wants and more. 
A part of him wonders if he deserves this. If his happy ending is something he has been able to get; if he’s atoned for his past. If the blood he’d split has finally dried and he’s able to truly move along. But he tries not to remind himself about his past, focusing on his present or whatever stupid thing Grayson always preaches about.
Sighing, he taps the cold bench with his knuckles before standing up. 
“I believe father should be done talking with your family,” He says and you hum, following after him. You walk hand in hand, your bodies begging for warmth. He notes the recent footprints that aren’t his or yours and figures it was Diana. She’d been wearing kitten heels and that’s the print of them. It makes him smile, figuring she probably got the hint. 
He glances at you as the two of you walk in tandem; he’s known about your family issues for a while. Sworn to secrecy because you didn’t want the others to pity you or try to somehow make up for your family’s shortcomings. You knew his family; you knew how much they liked you and how if they knew the truth, how your family wouldn’t even be allowed to step foot inside. 
He doesn’t know why, honestly he’s tried to imagine it, but you still love them. You still answer their texts, you still wish them a happy birthday even though they rarely do the same, and you haven’t spoken truly ill of them to anyone but him. 
You believed you never did anything remarkable; born to live in the middle child’s role for the rest of your life and he cannot imagine that. 
Gotham University is comparable to Ivy League in almost every regard. You managed to be one of his father's best interns long before you’d gotten your powers. You had enough self-preservation and drive to uproot your entire life, growing used to the harsh environment of Gotham alone. You’ve been beaten and broken enough times to make a grown man quit and yet, you put on the suit night after night, fighting crime with a joke and a smile. You had literally no one in your corner for years and yet he watches as you smile at the snow falling on your nose. 
He knows you’re incredibly strong and he wishes nothing but the best for you; which is why he’ll proudly wear your relationship on his sleeve. 
You look at him, feeling his intense gaze and he grins, kissing you again. 
“You okay?” You ask when he pulls away. He nods, looking back towards the manor as you exit the maze. 
“I’m happy I can kiss you freely.” Is all he says and you playfully roll your eyes. Your siblings are waiting on the porch while Damian’s siblings and further in the snow, talking using sign language when Cassandra waves you both over. 
“We have a plan,” She says. “We are going to act like I can’t speak. Only sign language with your family,” They do that every time the family is introduced to someone new, kept it up with Bernard for nearly a year before someone broke. You managed about two months but that’s only because you accidentally walked into a very heated conversation between her and Jason about ballet plays. 
“I agree.” Damian nods. 
“It’s only natural.” You agree. 
“Yo,” Jason suddenly says while smacking your arm. “Is your stepmother the mom of your sister?” You cringe when you think about it and the weird family drama around them. 
“No, she’s an affair baby,” You start and scratch your cheek. “She’s my mom's god-sister's daughter. Her and my dad didn’t date, though. It’s complicated.”
“Oh, okay,” Steph sighs. “Because they look so similar.”
“Oh, yeah. They’re cousins.”
“Huh?” They all blink and you glance at Damian. He shakes his head; he’s not going to explain this mess. 
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m going to need a full explanation,” Tim shakes his head, arms crossed over his chest while you inhale. 
“Okay, her mother is Lupe. Lupe and my dad slept together for about five years before they had my sister. My mom found out because Lupe’s mother told her because she thought my dad would ‘step up’ and marry Lupe; spoiler, he didn’t. My dad's wife  is Lupe’s older sister's daughter.” You explain, using your fingers to keep track of people. 
“Okay,” Cass nods. “So, how old is everyone and when did they divorce?”
“My sister, Nadia, is twenty-seven, Pat is twenty-four, Diana is eighteen, and Lupe is ten. My parents divorced before Lupe was born.”
“She has her mother's name?” Jason gasps, holding back a laugh. 
“Dad tried to change it; but you need both signatures. Everyone just calls her Lulu. My mom doesn’t acknowledge her.”
“Are we done here?” Damian sighs. 
“Yes, you can go back to kissing your boyfriend,” Tim rolls his eyes while Jason just shakes his head; still in disbelief that Damian had decided on his own that was in a relationship. He feels like he’s done that in another universe, too. 
“So,” Steph starts just before the two of you can walk away. “When’s your anniversary? Or do you celebrate both of them?” She teases and the others laugh. 
“I’m not answering that,” He grumbles and grabs your hand, pulling you away. 
On the porch, he looks at Nadia and her roommate. They’re holding pinkies, testing the waters while your fingers haven’t left Damian’s in nearly twenty minutes. He feels bad for them; despite his upbringing and hardships, he can confidently say that neither side of his family is homophobic. Not even in the slightest; he’s heard about Ra’s and Bruce’s escapades— although Bruce thankfully reassured him that his grandfather was not on his vast list of people he’d taken to bed. 
He goes to remove his hand, fearing you wouldn’t want your family to know but you squeeze his hand, keeping his hand firmly pressed against your skin. He looks at you and you offer a smile, guiding him to a porch bench while you wait for Bruce to let everyone back inside. 
He blinks, holding back a smile while you pull out your phone with your free hand. You’re playing some tedious game about placing blocks that he finds himself captivated in. It’s as if he can see your thinking in real time; understanding how your brain works. 
“So,” Nadia’s roommate— girlfriend, he corrects himself, Kendall, starts. Her voice feels almost surreal in the soft silence that fills the backyard. He’d nearly forgotten you weren’t alone. Nearly. “Are you two…”
“Dating?” You ask, voice carrying a sort of understanding that Kendall smiles at. She nods and you smile, nudging Damian’s shoulder with your own. “Yeah, we are.” 
“Cool,” She says, eyes darting to Nadia’s who just looks down. 
“Gross,” Pat says, eyes flickering to Damian’s. “You can do better.” Rolling your eyes, you return to your phone. 
“There is no such thing,” Damian answers and you pause, your thumb-stopping as you’re about to place a block. “Your brother is the best thing to happen to me.” Smiling, you lock your phone but pretend you’re still using it. Pat rolls his eyes but he doesn’t say anything further. 
From what you’ve told Damian he knows that Pat is an envious man. Envious that Nadia had won the lottery, envious Diana got your parent's love and affection, envious that you were able to escape the suffocating clutches of your parents when no one else could. 
He feels bad for Pat. He wanted to be an elementary school teacher but your parents had pushed for a ‘more respectable’ degree. You said after that he lost his spark. Became a shell of himself; not that you liked him before all that. He wasn’t a good brother to you, always thought you were too childish. Too head in the clouds to do anything. It was strange, considering the close ages between the two of you and you remember a time the two of you were close. 
The door opens and Damian looks over at his father as he fixes his jacket. His neck is tight but he forces himself to relax and he smiles. It’s the smile he puts on for a crowd, during gala’s, during meetings; whenever he has to put on his Brucie Wayne persona. Because anyone who knew Bruce, really knew him, knew his smile was different. 
“Come on, children.” He says, stepping aside as Tim rushes in. 
“He’s too anemic to be in the cold for so long,” Jason snickers, stepping in after Tim. 
Damian has you walk inside first, watching as his fathers eyes track you with a solemn look. It’s the look he had when you opened up about your family and he looks forward, staring at the back of your head as you enter the room for the third time that day. 
Your step-mother is no longer on your father's lap, she’s sat next to him and settles with just holding his hand. Your mother is opposite to them, her expression— Damian hates to admit it, he’s sorry for even making the connection in his head— is nearly identical to yours when you’re annoyed. Your father— again, really, he’s sorry for the connection— has the traits too. It’s the eyebrows and nose flare with your mother, the eyes and lip curl with your father. 
He wonders if you realize it and that’s why you don’t like getting upset. The reason why you try to avoid conflict if possible. 
Lupe climbs onto your fathers lap, the coldness has only made her more tired and he kisses her head, providing the warmth you’d never gotten from him. 
Damian looks at you as you’re holding a recording device between your fingers; a conflicted expression clear on your face before Bruce slyly takes it and crushes it under his finger. 
“Bruce-!” You gasp but he shakes his head, hand on your shoulder. “Okay,”
The two of you take your seats again, your head naturally finding a home on his shoulder while his arm wraps around your shoulder; tracing shapes into your arm absentmindedly. 
Diana scowls as she enters the room; the two of you sit in the middle because she just knows- oh, she knows you’re doing this on purpose. You’re jealous of her so this is your revenge, you’ve always done things like this. Getting better grades, turning her friends against her (she doesn’t know how for that one yet, despite it being nearly six years ago), countless others and now this. You can’t just be happy for her. 
You ignore her, still playing that damn game that Damian doesn’t know why you play. 
For some strange reason, Damian remembers back to when you learned Wonder Woman’s identity. How your face had dropped and how he snickered when you muttered; ‘that’s an unfortunate name’ that Diana had raised an eyebrow to. You had quickly apologized, of course, later recounting how embarrassing it was when you were alone with Damian. 
You still call her Ms. Prince, though. 
His eyes flicker to Nadia and Kendall; Nadia is pressed in between your mother and Kendall, her leg bouncing while Kendall seems almost unfazed being between Nadia and Jason. 
He’s probably wondering when the food is going to be done; he’s been preparing for this day. Literally; him and Tim and sometimes even Duke will take on extra patrol shifts the day before and not eat the day of Thanksgiving just to make sure they have enough room in their stomach for the feast Alfred prepares. 
While Damian is a little sad that Duke wasn’t able to make it this year, he’s glad he’s able to spend it with his family this year. He says they’re getting better, it’s taken several years but the Joker venom is weaning off of them. He can tell and the doctors confirmed it. They’re good enough that he can have an actual meal with them again. 
You check the time; five-sixteen, and almost sigh. Dinner always starts at eight on the dot and man, you’re hungry. Alfred doesn’t let anyone in the kitchen for a nibble on anything; just a glass of water before he kicks them out. 
Maybe if you texted Damian he could sneak out and bring some food for the two of you. 
“No,” He whispers when you’re hovering over your texts, debating typing it out. Grumbling, you put your phone down and look around. 
There’s not much going on, a couple of conversations have broken out but nothing worthy of note. Bruce is almost guarding the door with the way he’s placed his seat, facing over everyone. You wonder what he talked about; you’re not stupid, you know it’s about you, but you want to know exactly what was said. It’s stupid but you worry that Bruce is tired of you, maybe he agrees with your parents that you’re just that kid. Nothing special. 
Damian feels your pulse when his hand travels to run across your neck, his fingers ghosting from your elbow up and you shudder. His eyebrows furrow when he feels the beating and he discreetly checks on you, your eyes darting about the carpet as your worry vein starts to show on your forehead. 
“Father,” Damian says and Bruce looks over, a quiet hm of acknowledgment coming from the man. “Can we be excused?”
“Of course, Damian,” He nods as a thank you and taps your back, beckoning you up from the couch and you follow him out of the room. 
“What’s on your mind?” He asks once you’re a couple of steps away from the room. You shrug, fingernails digging into the rubber phone case. He hates that; hates when you don’t give him a verbal response because how is he supposed to help? He’s great at reading body language, yes, of course he is, but he wants you to talk. 
“You’re worried about something,” He says as you’re traveling up the large staircase. The old wood creaks under your footsteps, the banister sharing it when your hand presses down against it. 
“Does Bruce like me?” You ask and he blinks over at you. 
“My father adores you. He’d adopt you if he could,” He reassures with ease and you smile. “You’re worried about what he spoke to your family about?” Nodding, he looks up the stairs and thinks for a moment. 
“I’m going to be honest with you; I have a couple of theories myself. The most likely one is that father invited them here on purpose; he wants to know them because he realized at the tree that your family doesn’t treat you well. He probably played the aloof character he often does and sang your well-deserved praises, watching as your parents squirmed.”
“You really think that?”
“I’d never lie to you,” He promises, kissing your knuckles. “Do you want to take a nap?”
“Yes, please,”
Damian had stayed awake at his desk while you napped on his bed, curled up on his blankets and his pillows, Titus happily sharing the space with you. He hates to admit it, but he definitely watched you as you slept; simply admiring you. 
The others had checked on the two of you periodically, finding Damian was more often than not simply sitting in the silence of the room. Jason wanted to make a joke, something about day one relationship bliss but he held his tongue, he didn’t know why. Don’t ask him. He totally should’ve made the joke. 
When you woke up, he put his book down and waited for you to say something.
“Is the food done?” He laughs and checks his phone. Two minutes until eight. 
“It should be once we head downstairs,” You smile this sleepy smile, face still pressed into his pillow and he swears his heart swells. With a quick fixing of your clothes and hair, the two of you head downstairs as Bruce is heading up. 
“Good,” He breathes. “I was on my way to get the two of you.”  He waits for the two of you to walk past before heading back down himself. Jason and Dick are helping bring the food into the large dining room. Two trays of food in each of their arms while Alfred carts in more trays. You can smell the food from the bottom of the stairs and you’re so glad Damian forced you to go. 
You can imagine the leftovers now. 
Bruce sits at the head of the table as he’s always had, Damian pulls out a chair, one away from the corner seat where he’d be sitting, and nods with his eyes for you to sit.  
“He’s such a gentleman,” Tim cooes from across from you. 
“Just because you were raised without class, Drake doesn’t mean the rest of us were.” Damian quickly replies. Bruce wants to smile; he’ll never admit he loves his children’s banter, but he puts on his old man's tired face to save Damian the embarrassment of knowing his father finds his actions cute. 
Cassandra takes the seat across from Damian while you find Kori next to you. Dick is next to her, but Mar’i is asleep in a mobile bassinet between the two of them. They promise she’s a heavy sleeper but everyone is ever aware of their volume as she sleeps. 
You wonder why more partners aren’t at the dinner. Jason usually invites at least one of the Outlaws, the Kents are almost always there, and maybe one or two of Dick’s Titans show up. You were hoping at least Jon would be there; it’s been a while since you’ve seen him. 
Stephanie settles next to Tim, followed by Jason. He likes to be as far as he can from Bruce without being too far because… Bruce and Jason's things. 
You don’t care where your family sits, honestly you try to block them out. Between your parents, siblings, aunt, and cousins (plus Kendall and your father's wife), you can’t bring yourself to care. 
The last of the food is set and Alfred takes the seat at the other end of the table. Head of household go on the ends, is what Damian had told you when you first questioned it. 
“Wanna say what we’re grateful for?” Dick grins the same way he does every single Thanksgiving that the others mouth the words as he’s saying it. 
“Sure,” Bruce nods, his eyes scanning over the table. “I suppose I’ll start, then.” 
“I’m thankful for my children finding happiness,” He smiles. “Wherever that may be.” He adds, looking at Jason. 
“Oh, I need a drink,” Jason mutters and grabs his glass, pouring whiskey out from his flask.
It’s Cassandra’s turn and she looks around before signing
‘I’m thankful for ballet.’ Everyone replies in sign, not because they actually want to reply, but because it’s funny. You catch your family's embarrassed glances at each other when they realize they have no idea what she said and no one is willing to translate for them. 
Tim doesn’t realize it’s his turn and returns to staring at his lap, trying to hide the fact that he’s working. Stephanie nudges him and he looks up, not even embarrassed that he’s been caught. 
“I’m thankful for the internet in the dining room.” 
“I’m thankful for…” Stephanie trails. “Cassandra.” 
“I’m thankful for alcohol,” Jason says as he takes another large gulp. He wanted to say guns, he always says guns, but you guess Bruce had told him not to this year. 
Kendall is next, her eyes flicker to you for a brief moment as she thinks. 
“I’m thankful that I have someone to celebrate with,” Is what she settles on before it’s Nadia’s turn. 
“I’m thankful for Kendall,” She smiles, her voice shaking as she says it. Kendall smiles down at the table, hiding her pink face. It continues on, your cousins are thankful for Kai Cenat, your brother says some corporate answer you forgot immediately after, Lupe says her iPad, your father says his wife, his wife says him, your mother said her husband, her husband said her, your aunt said her kids, and then it’s Diana’s turn. 
“I’m thankful that Mr. Wayne opened his doors to us,” She says in this sickly sweet voice that makes you inhale and hold your tongue. Thankfully that Kori’s hair mostly blocks you from the others, you shake Damian’s shoulder and he stifles a laugh. 
The married couple says sappy married couple answers and suddenly it’s your turn. 
“I’m thankful that I have all of my organs,”
“You’re still on that?” Tim glares, looking up from his laptop and you laugh, the others joining in. “It happened one—“
“Kids,” Bruce says and Tim looks back down at his laptop. He looks at you and you sigh. 
“I’m thankful for the blue— I’m thankful for the food Alfred cooked so tirelessly,” You say and the family nods to that, even Tim. 
“I’m thankful for (Y/n),” Damian says and Jason cheers when Dick slides him a twenty. “You’re childish.”
“And you’re predictable,” He sings, holding up the crisp twenty-dollar bill. Damian goes to say something but Alfred clears his throat and anything he was going to say dies before it reaches his tongue. 
“I’m thankful for another year with all of you,” Alfred smiles fondly at everyone, even you. 
“Dig in.” Getting food is nearly a free-for-all hell. It’s why Alfred always makes enough that you don’t need to reach too far to get your favorite foods. You pile food onto your plate, fighting Tim with the spoon and ever aware of your family’s bewildered expressions. 
It’s strange for them to see; you’re so happy here. Clearly, in your time in Gotham, you’ve been integrated into the family, settling nicely in their bunch. You’re laughing with Jason about something they don’t get, sharing a forkful of food with Damian because he wanted you to try the tofu ham he loves so dearly. You never liked tofu before, your mother tried once, but you love their tofu ham. 
You have inside jokes with them, even with Bruce. Bruce asks about your classes and they realize they can’t name a single class you take; they don’t even know your major. 
But somehow, someway, it’s your fault. You don’t call enough, you don’t text enough, you don’t come home. It’s not because of them; they’ve done nothing wrong. 
And you know that’s what they think. 
With the initial food free-for-all done, you settle into nice conversations that often have breaks of silence because you’re talking to Cassandra. It’s also the first time Bruce participates in the ongoing gag. 
“No, you nearly killed Jerry on his first Thanksgiving,” Damian insists to Jason. “You’re the reason we didn’t have a Turkey for four years.”
“I’m not the one who tried to kill me.”
“Pretty sure you have,” Tim comments, and Jason snorts before covering his face. 
“We agreed to no more suicide jokes,” Bruce lazily reminded. 
“Was it ever a joke…?” You test the waters and he sighs, holding his face while the others laugh. 
“That’s so rude, (Y/n)!” Diana shouts and everyone goes silent. Dead silent. “Don’t joke about suicide!” The others glance at her, unsure of what to do. You blink, pushing food into your mouth and slowly chew. 
“It’s harmless banter between friends and siblings,” Damian says. “You wouldn’t get it.” 
“Oh…” She settles in her seat. “I guess,”
“Anyway,” Stephanie looks away from her, giving you a glance that says ‘seriously, you’re related?’ and you just shrug. “Did Jason try to kill Jerry?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Okay, let’s ask Alfred.” Alfred looks up from his plate, wiping a napkin along his mouth with wide eyes when he sees the children have turned to him for his verdict. 
“Oh, well. That was so long ago, I suppose I’ve forgotten what’s happened.”
“Nonsense Pennyworth; your memory is sharp. No need to spare Todd’s feelings.”
“I know the demon spawn can be a bear but you can tell the truth, Alfred.” 
Bruce sighs because he knows this topic will never end.
“It wasn’t him.” Bruce blurts before covering his mouth with a napkin. Alfred gives him a thankful look but Damian slowly turns to look at Bruce.
“What?” Damian leans over, eyes wide as he stares at his father. “Who was it, father?”
“It was…” He sighs. “Me.”
Shouting erupts at the table, you and Cassandra sit, shell-shocked as years of a feud had been for nothing— something Bruce could’ve stopped long ago. 
‘Wasn’t it you?’ You ask and she nods, serving herself more mashed potatoes. You snicker, reaching over to finish Damian’s glass of wine. He takes the last sip of his father's glass, angrily downing it because the shouting has made his throat dry. 
“I cannot believe you let Todd take the blame,” Damian breathes as he settles down. “It’s been nearly ten years, father!” 
“Oh heavens,” Alfred shakes his head. “I shall bring out more wine.”
“Bourbon, please, Alfred.” Bruce and Jason grumble. 
“Having fun?” Tim grins over at your family. The bunch are shocked; well your cousins are eating this up and Lupe is still playing on her iPad. You didn’t expect anything less from them if you’re being truthful. 
“You have a… lively family,” Your father’s wife smiles. 
“Hopefully you’ll marry into it, right?” Tim continues to egg them on. “Then we’ll be one big happy family.” He winks at your mother who gawks.
“Yup,” You nod, much to Damian’s shock. “One big, gay, happy wedding, right, Dames.” He quickly collects himself and nods. 
“Honeymoon to whatever island you want; after our destination wedding. I’m thinking Istanbul or Cape Town, South Africa.”
“Mhmm, and then we’ll get a big mansion somewhere.”
“A farm, too.” 
“That sounds nice,” Kori agrees. 
“You’ll be my maid of honor, of course.”
“And Dick will be my best man.” 
“He’ll be mine.” You disagree, turning to Damian. 
“You cannot have both!”
“Fine, I’m taking Casandra.”
“No! She’ll be my maid of honor. Why don’t you pick Drake or something?”
“I’m busy that day,” Tim responds and Damian squints. “I might be able to squeeze you in.” Tim concedes. 
“I’m taking Jon, then.” 
“Oh my god,” Bruce puts his head in his hands as Alfred pours him a glass of bourbon. He downs it and Alfred quickly pours another glass. “There won’t be a marriage until you’ve finished college.”
“I didn’t know you moved that fast,” Jason teases. 
“It’s not fast if I’m sure he’s the love of my life.”
You pause, staring down at your glass as the room falls silent. 
Honestly, this is moving… fast. You’ve never been in love, at least you don’t think you have. You’ve never really known love; your father cheated for five years, your mother married your father's (now former) boss out of spite, your father is currently married to someone the same age as his eldest daughter, and your sister was in a hidden relationship. 
Your girlfriends have been nice. You liked them enough, they weren’t bad in any way. You enjoyed being with them but you wouldn’t say you’ve ever loved any of them. 
With Damian, you aren’t sure if what you’re feeling is love. Maybe puppy love but… love. You aren’t sure about that; you’d been joking about the marriage stuff. It was a joke to get your family uncomfortable. You weren’t even sure you wanted to get married! Let alone to Damian. 
The relationship was literal hours long at this point— sure longer in Damian’s eyes but he’s clearly had romantic feelings for you for longer than you’ve had them for him. Maybe you hadn’t realized before, sure, yes, that’s entirely possible. But you don’t love him just yet. 
“I’m gonna… use the bathroom…” Diana excuses herself, her kitten heels clicking against the freshly polished floor. 
Your ears are ringing as Damian continues his conversations like normal. You glance around, finding Tim’s eyes in the chaos that’s your current state. He raises his eyebrows and you must’ve made a face because he did a short nod. Damian says something; something about you. He wants your opinion about something but you don’t know what he said. There was just one fact running through your mind. 
He was in love with you. Like genuinely. 
You must’ve been a horrible gay boyfriend because you smile and ask him to repeat himself. 
“Oh, (Y/n),” Tim cuts you off, closing his laptop. “I wanted your opinion on something about… stuff; join me.” 
“Can’t it wait?” Bruce asks. He assumes it’s about his case because Bruce was considering asking you some questions about it anyway. It had to deal with your major and why not ask the kid who’s currently studying what he thinks? 
“Don’t wanna forget,” Tim shakes his head. 
“It’s okay,” You smile. “I’ll be back in the second, yeah?” Damian nods, squeezing your hand as you leave the room with Tim. 
“He’s a lot.” Is the first thing Tim says when you’re walking into a nearby room. 
“I wouldn’t say that,” You mumble, falling onto a couch with a loud sigh. 
“Really? Because he just said you’re the love of his life and you looked sick.”
“I’m just—“ Any reasoning dies before you find it and you look at him. “It was shocking.” You settle on saying. 
“Yeah, you’ve been dating for maybe six hours and you were asleep for half of them. Congrats, though. You’ve clearly won him over,” Tim settles across from you, his legs hanging off of the chair while he hangs his head, staring at the dead fireplace. 
“I don’t know what love is.” You blurt and he looks up, half interested. 
“Considering your family is a weird fucking situation, I figured.” 
“Shut up, fucking detective.” 
“Ouch,” He teases with a grin. “Put ‘World’s Greatest’ in front of it next time.” 
“Can you explain love? Maybe then I'll put the title.”
“You’re great at barging,” Tim sits up, now resting his chin on his fists. You stare at him, waiting and he sits there. Thinking. 
“If Jon was to walk through the doors and declare his love for Damian, how would you feel?”
“Upset. Confused.” You shrug. 
“How often do you look for him?”
“Not often. We’re never apart.”
“When you are.” He corrects, rolling his eyes. 
“Often, I guess. I worry;” You shrug. 
“About what?”
“During…” Glancing at the door. “Our side jobs, I worry that he’s been taken. I guess. Maybe worse. During classes I just miss him, I’m used to being around him.”
“Used to or want to?”
“What do you mean?” Your face pinches and Tim tilts his head. 
“Are you used to being around Damian or do you want to be around Damian?”
“I want to,” You answer without hesitation. “I miss him when I sleep and he’s not there. I think of him whenever I’m shopping because I often see something he would like. I’ve…” You trail off, rubbing your hands on your legs. “Never told him I’m mildly allergic to dogs because he loves Titus.”
“You’re allergic to dogs?” 
“Mhmm, my throat gets itchy for a bit when I touch them or something they’ve come into contact with. I try not to touch them too often. I think I’ve built an immunity, though.”
“I’d say you’re in love. I would never do that,” He laughs. “Maybe baby love and Damian’s full deep-end love, but love.” 
“Really?” You smile and he nods, looking you up and down as if he’s judging you. He totally is. 
“Yeah, only fools in love would do something that stupid.” 
When Diana returns to the dining room, you pay her no mind. You're holding your goddaughter as she stares up at you, holding your finger. Her eyes really are green like her mother's. She smiles, cooing when Damian strokes the top of her head. 
She’s not old enough to have normal food, but it doesn’t mean she likes it. She tries to grab the fork whenever she can and even tries to remove the tablecloth to get to the delicious food. Against your wishes, Kori takes her upstairs. Dick says she needs to eat and you reluctantly understand, missing her already. 
“It’s time for dessert,” Alfred announces as he stands some time after Kori comes back, Mar’i once again fast asleep. Everyone had finished their plates and slumped in their seats, sure they were going to fall into a food coma. 
“I’ll help clear the table,” You offer, standing up and grabbing some of the trays. Jason does the same and you stare at each other; silently agreeing you’d split the leftovers evenly if you don’t argue and alert the others. 
Alfred takes the trays the two of you don’t and once they’re set on the table, he watches as the two of you rush to grab the tupperware he takes out for Thanksgiving and pile food inside. 
“Do leave some for the rest of us,” He comments as he goes back into the dining room to fetch the dirty plates and utensils and you apologize but continue filling the trays. You end up with eight heavy bowls; four for you and four for Damian. It’s not a lot, all things considered. No one else really gets the vegan things so it's always going with Damian. But even with Jason’s filling, there’s more than enough for everyone else. 
You put your tubs into your toolbox, preserving them exactly how they are while Jason has to put his in the fridge after slapping several sticky notes and writing on the tubs that the food is his and he will shoot whoever takes them. 
You’re nearly tempted. 
Alfred returns with the dishes, scraping the bones and scraps into the trash before he places them in the sink to soak. 
“Go inside, you will not have first dibs on dessert.” He says, eyeing the two of you while you stand in the kitchen's doorway. 
“Aw man,” You frown, dragging your feet as you walk away. 
“I assume you stole the leftovers?” Damian grins when you sit back down.
“Absolutely,” You grin back, knocking his leg with yours. “All the favorites, enough for a week.” He nods in approval, once again looking over the table. 
Alfred wheels in the desert and you swear it’s like feeding time at the zoo because the right side of the table eye the trays like they’re raw meat and they’re wild animals who hadn’t eaten in ages. Even Bruce. 
He sets the left side first; which will have the same things as the right and your mouth waters when you see the knafeh. You know your family won’t love it the same way you do and god, you’re going to take the whole pan home. There’s an elaborate strawberry cheesecake, three pies (apple, pecan, and pumpkin), banana pudding, and crème brûlée donuts. 
“I’m gonna cry,” Stephanie whispers, her leg bouncing with anticipation. “It’s so beautiful.”
When Bruce gives the nod to dig in— after Alfred pre-cut slices and gave everyone warning stares—, the dessert free-for-all is more contained. Everyone gets two slices of each pie, two of the cheesecake, enough of the pudding, and three donuts. It’s typically that way but everyone starts trading for their favorite things. You trade your pecan and pumpkin pie slices for: an apple slice, a donut, and two cheesecake slices. Or you don’t. Maybe you made it up; it’s up to your imagination, really. 
Your focus is on the knafeh; everyone always gives you one of their slices out of tradition. No need to trade for those bad boys. 
Alfred pours eggnog for everyone as well— he even makes special ones for those with diet restrictions. 
“This is so good,” Your cousin says, face stuffed with pumpkin pie. “You’re like Gordon Ramsay, dude.”
“Thank you, young man.” Alfred gives him a warm smile that makes your cousin beam. 
“I’m a man,” He whispers to his mother, eyes twinkling. She laughs and ruffles his hair. 
“So, you two are in a real relationship?” Your father's wife asks, pointing her fork between you and Damian. “Like… actually?”
“Yup,” You nod, licking your spoon clean of the apple pie filling. 
“Unfortunately,” Jason teases. 
“Just so you know; I’m like totally cool with gay people.” She says, holding her hand in your general direction as if you were going to grab it. “I’m an ally!”
“Nice,” You nod again. She smiles and nods, sipping her spiked eggnog. She spiked it, and everyone saw. She’ll deny it later. 
“They’re clearly lying!” Diana shouts. You were waiting for that; she’d been incredibly silent for most of the dinner. It was only a matter of time. “(Y/n) is jealous that me and Damian clearly have a spark! He’s… he’s messing with Damian’s mind! You saw the way he looked at me at the tree and besides— (Y/n) has had girlfriends before!”
“I’m bisexual.”
“As if! You don't even like Ryan Reynolds and I remember when you were eight and you said you’d date Red Hood if he was a girl!”
“I never said that!” You quickly shout, face heating up as the others around you snicker. 
“Yes, you did! You made Nadia make you that Red Hood costume for Halloween and made posters of him! You painted our Nerf guns black! And you said you wanted to marry ‘Girl Red Hood’!” 
“No, I didn’t! Oh my god, I didn’t!” You swear, shaking your head. 
“You did,” Nadia nods and you cover your face, unable to look at the Wayne’s. “It was clear, in hindsight.”
“So,” Jason slowly nods. “Red Hood was your gay awakening?”
“No! I was not into Red Hood!”
“And then he was fixated on Robin for a while. The one with the swords,” Nadia continues and you almost sob, collapsing in your seat. “He wanted swords and he swore his Robin hoodie for almost two months straight; convinced dad to buy Robin bedsheets.”
“They’re lying,” Your voice is muffled under your hands. Damian rubs your shoulder but you can just tell he’s enjoying this. 
“It was so much worse than the Red Hood phase,” Pat slowly agrees. “Is that why you moved here?”
“No, because that never happened.”
“It did,” Your mother slowly agrees. “But you stopped because of…” She trails, looking at your father. The conversation dies there and you’re able to breathe. 
“Damian’s not even gay!” 
“Diana,” You groan. 
“Considering there’s a video going around of them kissing; I’d say he’s pretty gay,” Tim says and you look at him.
“You recorded us kissing?”
“Not me; that’s too weird for me.” He shakes his head, flipping his laptop to show you. “Diana was live and someone screen recorded. You’re trending with the hashtag: stuffing.”
“That’s just crazy,” You snicker but try to be serious. 
“Hickeys so soon?” Stephanie wiggles her eyebrows at Damian as she watches the video. 
“This is unbecoming,” Damian blinks at the video but everyone can see he’s red in the face. “I demand you stop playing the video.”
“I actually sent it to everyone already.”
“Drake!”
“Tim!”
“What?” He grins, looking between the two of you. “All of us have one— it’s a rite of passage for Bruce’s sort of kids to get caught making out and having it posted.”
Dinner wraps up, and you’re in the kitchen with Alfred, putting your leftovers into more Tupperware to avoid… all of them really. He’s washing the dishes, insistent that he does it alone and you let him. He won’t budge on his Thanksgiving dish duties for some odd reason. 
You’re finishing up when your phone buzzes and you check it. 
Diana : 
Mom and dad are yelling at each other because of you. I hope you’re happy. 
Just stop pretending you weren’t even bisexual yesterday. 
It’s actually really sad. 
They’re talking about changing custody because of you, now I won’t be able to see mom or dad EVER again. 
Nadia:
I can see Diana texting you
it’s not your fault
you know how they are
and i’m proud that you came out, sorry i didn’t say it earlier 
Your family had left in a haste, mostly rushed by your mother and father who climbed into a large uber with the kids and spouse. Your aunt and cousins were driven back by Dick. 
You:
thanks, you too, btw
Nadia:
LOLLL maybe one day
you two should come visit us one day, see the farm
damian likes animals, right?
You:
yeah
loves them
She sends you some pictures of animals she’s gotten over the course of a couple years and you smile. 
You:
oh he’ll definitely want to see them
maybe during spring break?
Nadia: 
sounds perfect. stay safe, ill worry about mom and dad 
You:
okay love you
Nadia:
love you too
Later that night, everyone is doing a late-night patrol when you hear Jason start speaking. 
“Girl Red Hood?”
“They were lying!”
“For Hood’s sake, he better pray that is true.”
217 notes · View notes
jq37 · 8 months ago
Text
Your sister who you love so much (even though you’ve never shown it) asks you to be her sister again, her true sister, in deed not just in name. And yes, of course that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now that she’s shattered your defenses and destroyed the ones who would pit you against each other and died right before your eyes, how could you refuse? How could your answer be anything but yes?
So you go home with her, not the ruins of your perfectly posh prison, but a new home which provides love and care and bunk beds and it’s so so nice. Ridiculously nice. Sickeningly nice. And a small, sick part of you almost misses your old home (if you can even call it a home) because yes, it was cruel and awful and you hated every second of it but you knew where you fit. You knew what your role was. You don’t fit in here. Everyone accepts you because they’re all so nice, but they don’t know how to volley back your sharp words or find a hidden, “I love you” within an offhanded insult. 
And then your sister leaves to save the world again because that’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who goes out to save the world with her friends when she’s needed and you’re not. You’re not, not, not. Not on any count. You don’t save things, you destroy them. And friends? You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable for friends so of course that’s out. Your sister is 16 and she’s out saving the world for the third time and you, fully grown at 18, are a wanted criminal who hasn’t even properly graduated from high school. You can’t stop thinking about it and, without your sister and her friends occupying the house as a buffer, the ones who are left try to get you to talk about it so you make a rash decision, as you are wont to do. You leave, like a thief in the night. You can make your own way. You can. You’ll prove it.
You find a shitty apartment and pay for it with the ill-gotten spoils from one of your many exploits. You could probably pawn some treasure for more luxurious  accommodations–there is that chest of rubies just lying around–but you don’t. That’s not what you deserve. And what if your sister needs help later? You don’t have access to your parental funds anymore which means she doesn’t either. You know she won’t ask anyone for help–you wouldn’t. But someone has to look after her. You’re an abjuration wizard. You protect people. You protect her. No, that’s a lie. But you want to make it not a lie. You want to start now.
If you’re saving the rubies then you need a source of income. You narrow down your least villainous talents to try and find a suitable job and hit on teacher. You’re good at magic, right? So how hard can teaching it be? Hopefully not as hard as securing the job, which proves trickier than expected because, oh right, you’re a wanted criminal who hasn’t graduated high school. But you dip into your villainous talents once more and tell yourself it’s for a good cause. You secure the job. You’re doing it. You’re making your own way. 
You want to text your sister to see if she’s doing alright but you don’t want to intrude and you don’t want to answer any questions about what you’ve been doing because then either you’ll have to lie or explain that you’ve left again, right after you promised you’d be there. Both options make your heart ache, especially since it’s her birthday. So you wait until the house is empty (mostly empty–you’re never really alone in a haunted house) and enter the room you and your sister shared for too brief a time. You paint her walls with carefully rendered runes, filled with all your abjuration magic and stamped with your arcane mark. It’s a possessive bit of spellcraft. A selfish claiming of a climactic kill. You mean to make a different kind of claim. You are claiming your sister, as she asked you to months ago. You are telling the world that she will not be fucked with while you live. Your rooms were so close before. You could hear her. You knew every night she went to bed in the grips of a panic attack with no one to console her. She won’t have to feel unsafe in her own room again. You can make sure of that at least. 
The sun rises one morning and you know that means your sister is alive and well and coming home. You teleport to Falinel to make sure she returns to her favorite dessert. It’s worth the spell slot and the chance of being recognized. The tower where they kept you is long destroyed and you know that this time, if you were ever captured or even killed, rescue wouldn’t be measured in a matter of months. It would be days. Hours even if your clever sister and her powerful divination magic put things together faster. The thought fills you with more emotion than you know what to do with. You leave a note. “I love you,” you think. “Enjoy the nemesis ward,” you write. 
Practicing magic, as it turns out, is a very different skill than teaching magic. The children are loud and obnoxious and you don’t quite realize that maybe your expectations are too high between the hothouse you grew up in and your sister being the world’s greatest diviner, fullstop. You know you can always go back to the manor, but that somehow makes it easier to stick it out. You’ve always been taught that pressure provides the best results but there’s something about the security of a safety net that makes everything a bit more bearable. And so what if you have to take a second job involving a light criminal element. You’re only smuggling–that’s barely even a real crime.
Your sister who has saved the world thrice now, texts you and she wants help. She is looking to you for help. And you do your best to oblige. You offer your knowledge, you offer your rubies, you invite her over again and again. She sends you a text and deletes it. You’re not the diviner in the family but you drain your spell slots scrying for information you already know. Information that you'll hear from her own lips in just a few hours. “I love you.”
She finally visits and you’re not unaware of the state of your apartment. You know you’ve been too exhausted for an Unseen Servant or even a round of Prestidigitations but you know that your sister has seen your mind and there’s nothing messier about you than that. She teases you and you tease her back. She’s the only one who understands how to deliver a complement with a backhand so you can receive it without your skin crawling. The only one who knows how much tartness you need with your sweetness. 
Later, she visits again. She sits in your filthy apartment and you watch trash TV and it’s the highlight of your week. Your month even. That should feel pathetic but, somehow it doesn’t. You want to tell her. She deserves to hear it from time to time without having to filter out the layers of prickliness that you add as second nature, a layer of armor as ever present as your abjurer’s ward. You may not be able to handle naked sentiment but she can. You’ve seen her with her friends. How affectionate they are. You’ve always been taught that loose lips sink ships but you have experience with ship sinking and this prospect fills you with much less dread. You tell her and it’s awkward and fumbling but you manage. Maybe loving people isn’t so different from loving cats.
You have a new job which is perfect because the school year is almost over and, blackmail or no, you aren’t sure how many times you’ll be able to get away with casting Sleep on your class to give yourself a break. Honestly, you should have applied for jobs in Leviathan from the start. Why would pirates care about your sketchy history and lack of credentials? You could teleport yourself to Leviathan every day but that would be a waste of a spell slot when the door to the Compass Points is right there in the manor (and if your sister happens to be there too then hey, happy coincidence). While you’re there, you might as well do your laundry. And stay for dinner from time to time. And spend time with your sister in your her room where your runes stand sentinel and your old bunk lays untouched. You don’t think you’re staring but later, as you go to grab a snack from the kitchen your sister throws you a casual, over the shoulder glance. 
“You can just move back in, if you want.”
And would it really be that easy? Just like that? After a year of trying to make a point or a plan or a better version of yourself or whatever? Just like that? 
You remember a year ago. You and your sister and words that will be burned into your mind forever. 
“Despite the fact that you have not earned it, I do love you.”
Just like that. 
You say yes. You stay. 
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