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murderofravens · 23 days ago

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VIOLATE

pairing: salesman x fem reader.

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT | RAPE/NONCON. daddy issues. age gap. reader had an abusive dad. physical abuse. degradation. forced blowjob. hitting, slapping, you know the drill. sub!reader. dom!salesman. blood. plot with porn. dont like? dont read. its that easy.

summary: you steal from the wrong man and face the consequences.

continuation to THIEF

MASTERLIST

most girls have some sort of fantasy in their head when it comes to their virginity. a blueprint of sorts— about what kind of man they'd like to lose it to, of how gentle he'd be with them. whether it would be planned and patient or spontaneous after a magical date.

you were one of those girls. so far, you'd managed to stay away from men, not just because none of them fit the standard you created in your head— but also because the idea of being with a man repulsed you. the first man in your life— your father, had broken your heart. so you protected yourself, put a lock on engaging in sexual desires for that special someone you could wholeheartedly give yourself to. you were scared that most men you encounter would be like your father— cold. violent. now, you understand that you were wrong.

the man in front of you was so much worse.

you dont get to wallow in your self pity for long. he hovers over you like a god— his presence alone was suffocating. the fact that his massive hand is currently tugging your head back doesn't help; your scalp stings and fresh tears well in the corner of your eyes. the sight makes him groan. his free hand holds onto his cock— gently stroking back and forth. it's a little darker than the rest of him— tip flushed and some precum gleaming on the top. it's clear all this fighting has been foreplay for him. he's getting off to your misery. his dark eyes flicker over your face, and as you try to pull your head back again, he forces the tip against your mouth; letting the stickiness spread over your lips.

"open up." his voice is breathy, hand tugging your hair back again. you wince. "don't make me ask again."

you shake your head, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as you glare at him with all the resentment your eyes can muster. your teeth grit together as you clamp your mouth shut. he pauses and settles you with a bored gaze, and before you can realize what's happening, his hand is pulling back and slapping you across the face again.

you fall sideways onto the couch with another sob. you can taste the blood in your mouth, and you cough. he's quick to yank you back up, chuckling slightly when the blood sputters out of your mouth and down your chin. he smears his cock against the dark fluid, before settling you with another warning glare.

"did you act this stubborn with your father too?" he pouts, voice taunting, "no wonder he hit you. you never seem to listen on the first try."

you feel livid, shaking with rage as he mocks you. you open your mouth to answer him, and he takes that opportunity to pry your jaw open with his thumb. he groans as he forces his cock past your mouth, slowly at first before pushing to the hilt, till your nose presses against the light patch of hair at the base. you barely get the time to protest before he's rolling his hips slightly, getting used to the wet cavern of your mouth. the thickness and the intrusion in your throat makes you choke and sputter incoherently around his cock, eyes watering again. your hands hold onto his thighs for support. maybe you can bite his dick right off, maybe—

"and if you bite me," he warns with a little chuckle, as if he read your mind, "i will slit your throat open and fuck it."

you shudder. you know he means it too— you can see the crazed look in his eyes as he cups your head with both hands. you don't want to take any chances. you can barely think when he pulls his hips back and thrusts again, eliciting a choked gargle out of you.

"fuck—" he grunts lowly, using your head as leverage as his thrusts slowly grow faster. your body trembles violently, the lack of oxygen making your head feel faint. "that's it— stay like that."

it's as if he's releasing all his pent up frustration on your little throat— his head thrown back, adams apple bobbing up and down as his thrusts get harder, faster. your choking seems to only spur him on, his hold on you getting tighter as you squirm on the couch, trying to pull back. he's not having it.

he pulls out momentarily and you get only a few seconds to breathe before he's grabbing you by the ear and dragging you off the couch. you shriek throatily and claw at his hand as he pulls you towards the wall and cages you in. your head presses against the concrete as he enters your mouth again, "stop that—" he grunts at your wiggling, pulling your head back and slamming it against the wall. you choke on a sob, feeling lightheaded. "the faster— ah— you make me cum the easier i'll make this for you."

his thrusts are like him— to the point, aggressive and inconsiderate. his hips snap forward almost violently as you claw at his thighs, leaving a few scratches. it makes him moan. your bloodshot eyes glare up at him as you choke around his length, his balls sloppily slapping against your chin. he doesn't make a lot of noise, but when he does it comes from the back of his throat. your head repeatedly slams against the wall as he fucks your face, and between his grunts he lets out another breathless chuckle.

laughing at your suffering.

"i'm getting close," his hand comes up and he pinches your nose between two fingers. you begin to writhe at the sudden cutoff of oxygen, eyes widening, "ah ah- take it like a good slut."

your vision gets blurry, head pounding and throat gurgling as he throws his head back and cums with a loud moan. you're sure you can feel it fill your stomach. it's bitter and you can feel the stickiness of it on the roof of your mouth, on the back of your tongue. his thrusts falter, hips stuttering as his chest heaves, few strands of his well kept hair falling across his forehead. you choke and cough as he pulls out, and stuffs his softening cock back inside his pants like he didn't just violate you.

you gag slightly as you taste the saltiness of his cum mixed with the metallic taste of your blood, and you cough some of it out. you greedily take in as much air as you can, eyes wide and face heated. he tosses you around like a ragdoll. your body is limp as you slump against the wall, shuddering. his foot raises, the tip of his shiny dress shoes pressing against your clothed crotch. his voice is thoughtful, contemplative. like he's talking about the weather. "should i pop your cherry?"

you look up at him, shocked. you can barely see him through your tears. "what?"

with a smirk, he grabs your arm and yanks you forward till your face crashes into his thigh. in your panic stricken haze, you grab onto his leg, clinging to him, desperate for any ounce of sympathy or comfort he can provide.

he has nothing to offer.

his hand comes down to run through your hair, like you're a dog. you lean into the touch, hope that you being responsive would sway any thoughts of him violating you further. he grabs your jaw, making your cheeks squish in his hold. he thinks you look utterly adorable this way. you whimper.

"please don't."

you break down into sobs again. you hate crying. you hate it more so because it makes you appear weak in front of the other person. they never seem to understand that you're crying out of rage, not sadness.

he sighs before shoving you off him. you slouch on the floor and he kneels before you, face indifferent. he gently brushes your hair away from your face, and you slap his hand away.

he's toying with you. playing with your fear. manipulating your emotions as he deems fit and he's revelling in it.

"you—" you pant, choking on another sob, before a crazed chuckle leaves you. full of disbelief, anger, hurt. "you sick fuck—"

"let's not use crude language." he remarks dryly, eyes crinkling as he puts on a smile. the same smile you thought to be charming at first glance. now it just looks empty and manipulative. he pulls out a handkerchief, wipes the sweat glistening on your forehead. "someone really ought to teach you how to talk to your elders."

"you raped me," you snap back, voice cracking as you shoot daggers at him through your glare. you want to lunge at him, to pull out his eyeballs and rip him apart. he grabs your chin, stares into your eyes with an intensity that makes you cower into yourself.

"i taught you a lesson," he shoots back calmly, expression serious. as if he truly believed what he said. "i gave you a glimpse of what could happen if you kept up with your reckless behaviour. surely you don't think you can always get away with stealing from men or talking back to them?"

you snatch your face away and look at the floor again, eyes stony and vacant. you were a fool to think you were made for this life. that you could've lived without a proper roof over your head, the financial security that your abusive father could provide you. but you weren't willing to go back.

not after everything you endured to leave.

your lips wobble. you try to compose yourself, force your face to look cold as you glare at him again.

"i'll go to the police." you take another sharp breath. you try to sound brave, you really do, but the slight waiver of your voice gives you away. "i'll tell them everything. i'll post it on social media. they'll find you and you'll be in jail by—"

you stop talking, merely staring at him as he smiles at you. it's a smile you recognise— one of those smiles that adults like to give to children, as if to say 'aw, you're so silly.' as if you're a naive child who is mindlessly babbling about something you don't know. as if he's the smartest person in the world. you know this smile because your father has aimed it at you multiple times.

"what are you smiling at?!" you snap, voice hoarse. he shakes his head almost fondly, his thumb caressing your bottom lip— spreading the drying blood around your chin.

"it amuses me," he starts, snorting again, "how you still believe in humanity after what i just did to you."

you're frozen as you stare at him, breathing ragged. he stares at your lips, plays with the blood there before pulling his hand back and licking the crimson fluid off his thumb. he tilts his head to the side, eyes coldly boring into yours.

"you want to know how men really are?" he quirks an eyebrow, unimpressed, "they will find out where you live and they'll come have their own fun with you."

"some time will pass and you'll eventually start selling your body to perverted old men on the street." his voice takes that business-like tone again. he stands up, adjusts his suit jacket as he looks around the apartment. "weak little girls like you can't handle that kind of lifestyle."

he bends down and picks up his stolen wallet off the floor. he opens it, pulls out that card you saw before. the one with the weird shapes on it. he holds it out towards you, "here's an opportunity. you can call the number on this and participate in some games that will get you money—" he gestures towards the cash on the floor- your prize from playing ddakji. "— or you can keep living like this and encounter more horrible men like me who won't be as gentle with you as i was."

the last line makes you snort bitterly. right. gentle. his bruises would last for days, the trauma a lifetime. if this is his idea of gentle, you would never want to know what his 'rough' entails. his eye twitches and he smiles back, before dropping the card on your lap.

you stay on the floor, frozen, the reality of what just happened to you settling in. you can keep living like this— pickpocketing men, making ends meet with stolen change, getting raped, and living in this clusterfuck of an apartment just to avoid your father; or you can go wherever all that money came from. his voice sounds faraway when he speaks again.

"i'm trusting you to make the right choice."

he gathers his briefcase, sends one more glance your way before exiting the apartment like he was never there in the first place.

A/N: im not very good with smut, but i tried. i really wanted to write just porn but i physically cant bring myself to do that without adding lots of plot and psychological elements and a backstory. otherwise it feels soulless to me. i hope i didnt bore you. for anyone who read this, thank you. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. maybe i'll write about inho soon too.

tags for people who commented for a part 2: @rafesbunniebby @screaming-potato @nerdybarbariancupcake @deadddoll

#raven's work #the salesman x you #the salesman x reader #squid game x reader #gong yoo x reader #recruiter x reader #squid game smut #squid game angst #squid game season 2

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rizzanon · 2 months ago

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01 | SIXTEEN AGAIN

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Your breath hitched, and your phone slipped from your trembling fingers, landing with a soft thud on the carpet.

Four years ago.

The date burned in your mind like a cruel joke. It couldn’t be real. It shouldn’t be real. But the reflection staring back at you, the unfamiliar-yet-familiar state of your room, and the unscarred body you now wore told you otherwise.

This was real.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, but the air felt too thick, too suffocating. You sank onto the edge of your bed, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your thoughts spiraled.

What was happening? Was this some kind of hallucination? Were you dead, and this was some twisted afterlife?

You closed your eyes, trying to remember everything that had led up to this moment. The warehouse. The fight with the drug ring members. The blood. And then it hit you.

You died.

There was no questioning it. You felt your heart stop. You felt yourself take your last breath. You remembered the darkness afterwards. The quietness.

Before you heard the alarm.

A noise so mundane, yet so impossibly jarring in the context of your supposed death.

Your heart pounded as new thoughts invaded your mind. If this was real—if you were truly back to being 16—what does this mean?

Was this meant to be a second chance for you?

A second chance?

That was rare.

But a second chance for what exactly? To try again? Another chance to make yourself seen in this godforsaken family? But what use would that be? If you couldn’t do that before, what changes things now?

What exactly could you even fix?

Was it any use to try and see if anything you could change now would make your family acknowledge you?

Your hands tightened into fists as doubt and fear crept in. Four years ago, you were a girl who’d spent every waking moment trying to prove herself. Four years ago, you were still chasing the approval of a family who barely seemed to notice. Four years ago, you were still desperate to find your place, even if it meant destroying yourself in the process.

Did you have to repeat that whole process again? Go through all that pain and disappointment and loneliness all over again?

You shook your head violently, banishing the thought. No. You wouldn’t let that happen. Never again. This time, you’d do things differently. This time, you wouldn’t let yourself go through that again.

Not when that very thing drove you to your death.

You stood up from your bed and when towards your dressing table. Your gaze locked onto your reflection, lingering on your hair. The long, luscious black curls framed your face, a stark reminder of everything you’d endured when you were sixteen. It felt foreign, almost like you were looking at someone else entirely. Back then, your hair had been a source of pride—something you nurtured and refused to cut because you wanted it to grow naturally, to be perfect.

But now, seeing it again after everything you’d been through, it didn’t feel like pride. It felt like a symbol of the girl you used to be. A girl who sought validation in all the wrong places. A girl who let the weight of everyone else’s expectations crush her.

Without hesitation, you reached for the pair of scissors on your desk. You picked them up, holding them firmly in your hand. For a moment, you hesitated, the memories of your past self flashing through your mind. Then, with a sharp breath, you snipped.

The first lock of hair fell to the floor, and you kept going, cutting away the length of your curls until your hair rested just below your shoulders. It was a bit uneven, messy, and far from perfect—but that didn’t matter. The act itself felt liberating, like shedding a layer of skin that didn’t belong to you anymore.

When you finally put the scissors down, you stared at your reflection. You barely recognized the person staring back at you, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t mind.

This was you. A new you. A girl who wasn’t going to live her life chasing after her family’s approval. A girl who wasn’t going to let herself spiral into loneliness and despair again.

You swore, in that moment, that you’d do things differently. This second chance—whatever it was, however it came to be—was yours. You wouldn’t let anyone dictate your worth this time.

This time, you’d live for yourself.

A soft knock at the door startled you from your thoughts. Your heart stilled as a familiar voice reached your ears, a voice you hadn’t heard in so long—a voice you thought you’d never hear again.

“Miss, are you all right? You’ve missed breakfast. I wanted to check on you.”

Your heart began to pound. You stood frozen for a moment before rushing to the door. As you opened it, you felt your breath hitch.

There he was. Alfred Pennyworth. The man who was supposed to be dead.

But he wasn’t. Not here. Not now. Because somehow, you’d been sent back to the past, and he was alive. Standing in front of you, as real as the pounding of your heart.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, your emotions wavering between shock and overwhelming sadness. Was this why you were sent back? Was this your chance to save him?

Alfred’s expression shifted as he took in your freshly cut hair, his usual composure faltering for just a moment.

“You’ve, uh… changed your look,” he said gently, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “May I ask… why?”

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you lunged forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him. You could feel his body tense under your embrace, likely caught off guard, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go just yet. Damnit, you missed him.

It took Alfred a beat to respond, and even then, his arms came around you tentatively, a silent acknowledgment of the sudden outburst. “Miss,” he began softly, concern lacing his tone, but before he could say more, you pulled back abruptly.

A stray tear had escaped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, offering him a small, shaky smile.

“I just thought it was time for a change,” you replied simply, your voice steadier than you felt.

Alfred’s sharp eyes caught the tear despite your best efforts to hide it. His brow furrowed slightly. “Are you certain you’re all right, Miss?”

You shook your head quickly, forcing your smile to widen. “I’m fine, Alfred. Really.”

He hesitated for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but finally gave a small nod. “Very well, then. Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs.”

You gave him a grateful look and stepped past him, heading downstairs to eat.

As you walked away, Alfred remained rooted in place, watching you. Something was different. He’d seen it in your eyes, in the way you smiled, and in the way you’d hugged him.

He couldn’t place what had shifted, but whatever it was, it wasn’t just another day.

You stepped into the kitchen, the familiar scent of Alfred’s cooking wafting through the air. At the table, you spotted Damian already eating. He was so much younger than you remembered—shorter, his posture not as rigid, but the scowl on his face? Oh, that was exactly the same.

If you were 16, then Damian must be about 11 now. The realization hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help but stare for a moment, taking in the sight of your youngest brother looking… well, like a kid again.

Unfortunately, he noticed.

Damian’s sharp green eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you pause mid-step. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you like you were an alien that had invaded his space.

Internally, you thought, What the heck is his problem? But you weren’t about to let him get under your skin. Not this time.

You walked over to the table, keeping your composure, and took your seat. Alfred had already set out your plate—classic scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit, just like you remembered from those years.

As you settled into your chair, Damian finally broke the silence.

“What the hell did you do to your hair?”

You glanced at him briefly but didn’t rise to the bait. “Good morning to you too, Damian,” you replied calmly, picking up your fork.

Damian’s eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with a scrutinizing gaze. Then he huffed. “It looks stupid.”

That ticked you off. Your grip on the fork tightened momentarily, but you caught yourself before you could snap back. Instead, you took a deep breath and decided to let it go. Without saying a word, you simply started eating your breakfast.

For a split second, you swore you saw Damian flinch, his gaze flicking down to his plate. He let out an annoyed scoff, stabbing his oatmeal with his fork, and mumbled something under his breath.

You couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of triumph. Ignoring him, not letting him get to you was a win, right?

You kept eating, pretending not to notice how Damian kept sneaking glances at you from across the table, his expression unreadable. Whatever he was thinking, you weren’t going to let it bother you.

Not this time.

Damian had been awake long before the sun rose. His mornings were always disciplined: training, meditation, and breakfast—his time to exist without the noise of others. By the time he sat at the table, the house was still and quiet, just the way he preferred it.

Today was no exception. He ate his breakfast in relative peace, each bite of oatmeal and fruit deliberate as he mentally reviewed his plans for the day. That peace, however, shattered the moment you entered the kitchen.

He heard you before he saw you, the soft padding of your steps on the hardwood floor. He didn’t bother looking up at first, expecting to see you shuffling in half-asleep as you often did. But something made him glance up—and that’s when he froze.

Your hair.

It was short. Messy. Uneven in places, as though you’d taken a pair of scissors to it in a fit of frustration. He blinked, staring, his mind working to reconcile this with the version of you he’d seen just yesterday. What the hell happened?

“What the hell did you do to your hair?” he asked sharply, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.

You paused, your eyes flicking to him briefly before responding with infuriating calmness. “Good morning to you too, Damian.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. Normally, you’d snap back with some sarcastic remark. That was how it always went with the two of you—a constant back-and-forth of sharp words. Especially when your father or Grayson wasn’t around to stop you two from bickering. But now? Nothing.

“It looks stupid,” he added, his tone more biting than before.

You didn’t even flinch. Instead, you calmly reached for the plate Alfred had prepared for you, picked up your fork, and started eating.

Damian stared, his expression hardening. What was this? Why weren’t you responding? The silence grated on his nerves in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

His eyes flickered back to your hair. It wasn’t just the fact that it was short—though that was strange enough. It was what the act symbolized. You had always been so particular about your hair, letting it grow long, keeping it neat. He remembered you fussing over it, refusing to cut even the split ends because you wanted it “natural.”

But now? You’d hacked it off like it meant nothing.

Damian’s fingers tapped against the edge of his plate as he studied you. Something was different about you. It wasn’t just the hair. It was the way you carried yourself, the calmness in your demeanor that didn’t belong to the person he remembered.

And it unsettled him.

He hated not understanding things, and right now, you were an enigma. Damian prided himself on being observant, on reading people with precision, but you were throwing him off completely.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, stabbing at his oatmeal with unnecessary force.

Despite himself, his gaze kept flicking back to you. You ate in silence, seemingly unbothered by his presence—or his insults. And for a moment, just a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something in your eyes. Something quiet. Resigned.

Damian scoffed, turning back to his food, but the uneasy feeling lingered.

Whatever had changed in you overnight, it unsettled him more than he cared to admit. You were acting like a stranger, like he didn’t matter, and Damian hated that.

Why did he hate that? He doesn’t know. But what he does know is that he hated not knowing things. And right now, he had no idea what changed about you overnight. Though one thing was clear: he wasn’t going to let it slide. Not until he figured it out.

You shoveled the rest of your breakfast into your mouth as quickly as you could manage, the clock on the wall reminding you just how little time you had. It had been so long since you’d been in school—high school, no less. The thought made your stomach churn.

High school. The one place where whispers and rumors followed you like shadows. Where the weight of your name and the absence of your family’s visible support made you feel like a target. Where every glance, every muttered word, felt like a judgment.

But then, another thought struck you.

High school also meant Adrien and Caitlyn.

Your heart skipped a beat at the realization. Adrien and Caitlyn—your two closest friends, the ones who stuck by you when no one else dared. The ones who had tried so hard to pull you out of your destructive spiral, to get you to stop chasing the approval of a family that seemed indifferent. And how did you repay them? You pushed them away.

You could still remember the way their faces fell when you told them off, accusing them of not understanding you, of not understanding why you needed to prove yourself. The hurt in their eyes, the silence that followed. You hadn’t seen them in years.

But now? Now you had the chance to fix it.

The thought gave you a renewed sense of urgency. You stood, grabbing your bag—or what you thought was your bag. You weren’t even sure if it had everything you needed, but you didn’t care. You just needed to go.

As you rushed down the stairs, Alfred appeared at the base, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Miss, where on Earth are you running off to in such a hurry?”

“School!” you blurted, already moving past him.

“School?” Alfred repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “Miss, if you insist on going, at least allow me to—”

“No time!” you called over your shoulder, pushing open the front door. “I’ll take the bus!”

“The bus? Miss—”

But you didn’t wait to hear the rest of his protests. You bolted down the driveway, your bag bouncing against your back as you ran. The crisp morning air stung your lungs, but you didn’t care.

You had to catch the bus.

You had to see them.

The thought of Adrien and Caitlyn waiting at the school, of their familiar faces, of the chance to mend what you’d broken—it filled you with equal parts hope and fear. What if they didn’t forgive you? What if they’d moved on?

No. You couldn’t let yourself think that way.

This was your second chance.

A chance to make things right.

You reached the bus stop just in time, your breath coming in short gasps as the vehicle pulled up. The doors hissed open, and you stepped inside, your mind racing faster than your feet had moments ago.

For years, you had regretted the way things ended with them. Now, you had the chance to fix it. You just had to find the courage to do it.

You fumbled in your skirt pocket, fingers brushing against a few spare coins. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to cover the fare. You dropped the change into the slot, the clinking sound strangely grounding in this surreal moment.

As you stepped further into the bus, your eyes scanned the rows of seats. The hum of the engine and the soft chatter of other students filled the space, but all of that faded when your gaze landed on two familiar figures in the back row.

Adrien, with his short blond hair falling messily over his forehead, was leaning back against the window, lazily scrolling through his phone. Caitlyn, her brown hair tied neatly in a ponytail, sat beside him, scribbling something into a notebook.

Your chest tightened. There they were. Just as you remembered them.

The realization hit you all over again, like a tidal wave crashing against your chest: you were back. Truly, impossibly, undeniably back.

Your gaze lingered on them, drawn to the easy camaraderie between the two. Adrien muttered something, and Caitlyn rolled her eyes with a smirk before elbowing him lightly. The sight was painfully nostalgic, a reminder of the warmth and friendship you’d so carelessly tossed aside.

Then you noticed the empty seat beside them.

It called to you, tempting you to go over, to sit down, to fall back into the fold of their friendship as if nothing had ever happened. You took a hesitant step forward, but your feet faltered.

No. Not yet.

They hadn’t noticed you yet, and maybe that was for the best. You couldn’t just barge back into their lives, not without making things right first. You owed them an apology—a real one—and this wasn’t the time or place for it.

So, you slid into an empty seat farther up the bus, one out of their line of sight.

You exhaled shakily, leaning back against the seat as your mind churned. Seeing them again after all this time stirred up a whirlwind of emotions—guilt, longing, hope, and fear all tangled together.

You didn’t want to ruin their morning. You didn’t want to come crashing back into their lives uninvited, not when they didn’t even know what you carried in your heart.

For now, you’d wait.

But as you sat there, your eyes flickered to the reflection in the window, catching the faint outlines of Adrien and Caitlyn in the background. You couldn’t help but hope that later, you’d be able to face them properly and make things right.

The bus ride felt agonizingly slow, your heart thrumming in your chest as the city passed by in a blur. You were sixteen again. Sixteen, sitting in a high school bus, on your way to Gotham Academy. The thought was still absurd.

When the bus finally pulled up to the school, you stepped off hesitantly, your shoes hitting the pavement with a weight you hadn’t felt in years. Gotham Academy loomed before you, as grand and imposing as ever. The sprawling stone building with its Gothic spires seemed to mock you, its arched windows catching the pale morning sunlight.

You stood frozen for a moment, staring up at the place that had been the backdrop for so many of your formative years. Nostalgia washed over you, bittersweet and suffocating.

The courtyard was already buzzing with students. Groups of teenagers clustered around benches, laughing, chatting, or finishing up last-minute assignments. Some darted across the lawn to catch up with friends. Others leaned against the stone walls, scrolling through their phones.

It was so familiar. The hum of conversation, the subtle hierarchy of who sat where, the tension of homework left undone—it all came rushing back to you. It felt like stepping into a memory, but this wasn’t just a memory. This was real.

You inhaled deeply, the crisp morning air tinged with the faint scent of freshly cut grass and chalk dust.

Two years. It had been two years since you’d last walked these halls. Two years since you’d graduated and left this chapter of your life behind. Except now, here you were, a sixteen-year-old all over again, staring at the same building with the same familiar ache in your chest.

Your gaze shifted to the steps leading to the main entrance. How many times had you trudged up those stairs, your bag heavier than your shoulders could bear? How many times had you stood here, dreading the day ahead because of whispers you couldn’t silence and rumors you couldn’t stop?

The same faces. The same cliques. You spotted people you hadn’t thought about in years, younger and unburdened by the drama that would inevitably unfold.

The weight of it all hit you again. This wasn’t just a second chance to relive the past. This was a chance to change it. To fix the things that had gone wrong. To make peace with the person you were at sixteen and the choices you made.

Your grip tightened on the strap of your bag as you forced yourself to take a step forward, then another. Each step brought a flood of memories, some sweet, others bitter.

This time, things were going to be different.

This was it. The start of your new beginning—or your repeat, depending on how you looked at it.

The rest of the school day went surprisingly smoothly. Classes passed by with minimal hassle, and you even managed to take a few notes—though it was difficult to focus on anything but the surreal fact that you were truly sixteen again.

At lunch, you avoided the cafeteria entirely. You weren’t ready to deal with the crowded chaos yet, so you found a quiet spot outside and ate there instead. The day wasn’t as bad as you remembered, though the whispers and side glances still lingered in the corners of your awareness.

By the time the final bell rang, you almost dared to think that high school wasn’t as awful as you had built it up in your mind. Maybe it was the years of separation—or maybe it was the determination you felt now, knowing you wouldn’t let the same things happen again.

But just as you stepped out of your last class and into the hall, a hand gripped your wrist tightly, yanking you backward. Before you could react, you were dragged into an empty classroom.

The door clicked shut behind you, and when you turned, you froze.

Chloe Travers.

She stood before you with her arms crossed, a wicked smile curling at the corners of her lips. She hadn’t changed a bit—not that you expected her to. Her pristine blonde curls, immaculate uniform, and piercing green eyes screamed perfection. But you knew better.

Chloe was the reason your high school years had been hell. The daughter of influential Gotham socialites, she was untouchable—at least, that’s what everyone believed. Her reputation was pristine, but beneath it was a master manipulator who thrived on making others miserable. She never did anything that could directly incriminate her, and when she couldn’t keep her hands clean, her clique—Maya, Darius, Victoria, Ryder, and Sienna—always covered for her.

You clenched your fists, already bracing for whatever cruel remark she was about to make.

“I almost didn’t recognize you with that awful haircut,” she sneered, taking a slow step closer. “What, did Daddy finally stop paying for your fancy stylists? Or are you just trying to make a statement now?”

You swallowed the bitterness rising in your throat, but this time, you didn’t shrink back.

“Thanks for noticing,” you said evenly, your tone sharper than you’d ever dared to use before.

Her expression faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered, her smirk widening. “Wow, you’ve grown a backbone. What’s next? You’ll actually try to fight back this time?”

“I don’t need to fight back against someone whose entire personality revolves around making people miserable,” you shot back, keeping your voice steady.

Her eyes narrowed, and the room grew tense. Chloe’s lips curled into a condescending grin.

“You really think you’re so much better now, don’t you?” she hissed. “You’re still the same pathetic little shadow, clinging to your daddy’s name to make yourself seem important.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to let her see the way her words stung.

“I’m not the one clinging to my parents for relevance,” you said coolly. “At least I know how to do something other than bully people.”

Her face twisted in fury, and before you could blink, her hand shot up, ready to strike you across the face.

But the impact never came.

A hand stopped hers mid-air, gripping her wrist firmly. Your breath caught as you turned to see Adrien standing there, his jaw tight and his eyes burning with anger.

“Enough,” he said sharply, his voice cold and commanding.

At the same time, someone stepped in front of you protectively, shielding you from Chloe. Caitlyn. Her presence was steady and reassuring, her shoulders squared as if daring Chloe to challenge her.

“You okay?” Caitlyn asked over her shoulder, not taking her eyes off Chloe.

You nodded numbly, unable to form words.

Chloe yanked her arm free from Adrien’s grip, glaring at him. “You’re making a mistake,” she spat, her voice trembling with rage.

“No,” Adrien said calmly, his gaze unwavering. “The mistake would be letting you get away with this again.”

Without another word, Caitlyn grabbed your hand gently but firmly and started leading you out of the room. Adrien followed close behind, his presence a silent warning to Chloe not to follow.

The walk to another empty classroom was silent, tension hanging thick in the air. When you finally stopped, Caitlyn let go of your hand, and the three of you stood there, the quiet almost unbearable.

You stared at them, your mind racing. Why? Why did they jump in like that? Why did they defend you, especially after what happened the last time you’d been sixteen? You remembered the argument clearly, even though it had been four years for you. For them, though, it was probably still fresh.

Before you could say anything, Caitlyn hesitated, then broke the silence.

“Your hair,” she said softly, her tone unsure.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What about it?”

She shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Adrien before looking back at you. “It’s… different. Shorter. You never would’ve done that before.”

Adrien crossed his arms, his expression unreadable as he studied you. “Yeah. What’s going on with you, (Name)?”

You blinked, your throat tightening. “What do you mean?”

“You’re different,” Caitlyn said, stepping closer. Her usual sharpness was softened by concern. “Chloe’s always been horrible, but you’ve never fought back like that before. And now… you’ve cut your hair and…” She trailed off, her brow furrowing.

Adrien crossed his arms, tilting his head as he studied you. “We’re not mad, but we’re worried. You’re not acting like yourself. Did something happen?”

The care in their voices made your chest ache. For years, you’d thought about how deeply you regretted pushing them away, how much you missed them. Now, standing in front of them again, with their concern still so evident despite everything, you didn’t know what to say.

Your lip quivered, and you glanced at the floor, feeling shame creep up your spine. They didn’t deserve the way you’d treated them back then. They were great friends—better than you’d ever acknowledged.

And you threw it all away because you were so caught up in proving yourself to your family.

“I…” Your voice cracked, and you looked up at them, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “I’m sorry.”

Adrien and Caitlyn exchanged a surprised look, but neither of them interrupted you.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you said, your voice breaking. “For everything. For how I treated you both. For all the awful things I said. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

You could see their brows knit with confusion, but you couldn’t stop. “You two… you were always there for me. Always trying to help, always standing by me. And I pushed you away like an idiot because I was so focused on proving something to people who didn’t even care.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you hurriedly wiped it away. “I don’t even know why you bothered with me after the way I acted. I don’t deserve friends like you. I don’t deserve you.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Your chest tightened as you added, “And I get it. I’d understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore after what I said and did, but—”

You didn’t get to finish.

Caitlyn lunged forward, wrapping her arms around you tightly, cutting off your words with the force of her hug. A second later, Adrien joined her, his arms wrapping around both of you.

For a moment, you were too stunned to move. But as their warmth sank in, so did the overwhelming sense of relief. You let out a shuddering breath, the tears finally spilling freely as you hugged them back.

“You’re such an idiot,” Caitlyn mumbled into your shoulder, her voice trembling. “But we missed you.”

Adrien chuckled softly. “Yeah. Don’t think we’re letting you off the hook that easily. You still owe us an explanation.”

You laughed—a real, genuine laugh—and it felt like something inside you was healing. For the first time in years, you felt lighter.

“Maybe it’s because of the new haircut,” Adrien joked, pulling back slightly to ruffle your still-damp hair.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, sniffling but smiling.

They both grinned, and the three of you stood there for a moment, wrapped in a bubble of comfort and understanding. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t letting go of them this time.

You walked into the manor, cheeks hurting from the wide smile you couldn’t seem to shake off. For once, you felt like you were doing something right—something for yourself. The weight of guilt and regret that had once plagued you felt lighter, almost manageable. You’d made up with Adrien and Caitlyn. You’d taken the first step in changing things.

It felt surreal, like you were rewriting the script of your life in ways you hadn’t dared to dream before.

As you walked into the living room, Alfred was tidying up, humming softly to himself. He glanced up when he saw you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.

“You’re back earlier than expected,” he said, pausing his work. “And wearing a smile that’s far too wide to be anything ordinary. Might I ask what has brought this unusual cheer to your day?”

You grinned, almost mischievously. “Let’s just say… things are changing, Alfred. For the better.”

Alfred raised a brow but didn’t press further. “Hmm, cryptic as always, I see. Well, whatever has brought this change, I hope it continues to do so.”

You turned to head upstairs, but Alfred’s voice stopped you. “Oh, before I forget,” he said, “you do have a patrol scheduled for tonight. Do be mindful of the time.”

And just like that, your smile faltered. Patrol. Right. How could you almost forget? Almost.

Because this was that time—when you were sixteen, desperate to prove yourself, and driven by an endless spiral of toxic self-comparison. This was the period when Stephanie had donned the Batgirl mantle, leaving behind her identity as Spoiler, and your insecurities had spiraled out of control.

Back then, you felt overshadowed, like Stephanie’s presence somehow diminished your worth. Even after she eventually returned to being Spoiler, the damage was already done in your mind. You hadn’t “won” anything; you’d simply been left behind.

But now… now, standing in this second chance at life, you could see how warped your thinking had been. None of it mattered. What mattered was doing what was right—not for anyone else, but for yourself.

Your resolve solidified. You turned back to Alfred. “Where’s father?”

Alfred frowned slightly, tilting his head. “In the cave, as usual. Why do you ask?”

You didn’t answer, simply nodded and headed toward the clock entrance. Alfred’s confused expression followed you, but he didn’t question further.

Descending into the Batcave, the cool air and faint hum of machinery enveloped you. The smell of leather, metal, and the faint chemical tang of the medbay felt familiar, almost comforting.

There he was, seated at the Batcomputer, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he scanned reports and case files. His back was to you, but you didn’t need to see his face to know the intensity of his focus.

“Father,” you called out.

Bruce didn’t turn, though his fingers paused briefly over the keyboard. “I’m here,” he replied, his voice steady and sharp, as always. “What is it?”

You stepped further in, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not going on patrol tonight.”

Bruce didn’t react at first, still absorbed in whatever was on the screen. “Alright,” he said absently. “I’ll reschedule your route for another time. Stephanie can fill in for you tonight—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “That’s not what I meant.”

Finally, Bruce stopped typing. Slowly, he turned his chair around to face you, his expression calm but searching. “Then what do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage you had. “I’m done, Father. I’m quitting as Batgirl.”

i don’t think this really focused on the batfam as much, it’s more of world-building i suppose. but the next parts will definitely showcase more of the batfam!!

taglist (open): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows @thethingwiththefeathers @mochiivqi @pix-stuff @narration-ator @nebulousmoon3990 @delias-stuff @froggy-voidd @jjsmeowthie @kore-of-the-underworld @nen-nyy @juthesillylesbain @vikkus-main @emilylouise123 @blueiones @horror-lover-69 @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wassupbroski55555 | ask to be added <3 (idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

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izadi234 · 4 months ago

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Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English. Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader Chapters Chapter 1 (You're here) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 1

You can't remember a time when you didn't live under the roof of Wayne Manor. Those hallways that for a 4-year-old child seemed chilling and eternal, today you consider a prison. And no, they don't keep you locked up or anything like that, in fact they give you a lot of freedom within this house, but you can consider that so-called 'freedom' as negligence.

Yes, negligence. Of course you had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, a roof to shelter in, but what about love? If they could ask you if you have ever felt loved in your home, the answer would be simple.

No not once

Bruce Wayne, your father, may be one of the biggest billionaires in this world but it seems his love and attention was limited towards you. But, with your brothers? It seemed to be an endless well of love and patience that he gave them.

Unconditional love, something you always looked for.

Or maybe he was busy owning one of the most successful companies in the world or cosplaying a vampire to help the city.

Yes… in short, Bruce no longer knew what excuse to give himself for not spending time with you.

And your brothers? They weren't much better. Richard "Dick" Grayson may be very loving and charming but with you? You were just a zero on the left. He didn't think you needed attention as much as his traumatized brothers and sisters. You, being a normal civilian, knew that you were safe from anything, so he only limited himself to greeting you with that little smile that at first seemed warm to you, but now it just cracks your teeth to see it.

As if he were the perfect brother.

Jason Todd was everything to you until it became nothing. You met him in his days as Robin and the truth is he was nice to you and you had a good relationship with him (they are only three years apart). When Dick wasn't at the mansion he would play with you and let you watch him train. He was your greatest confidant, your best friend… Until the Joker killed him. When he came back to life you couldn't recognize him, was he really your brother? A being full of hate and revenge? So much so that even though he saw you once after years, he just turned around.

And although he already has a better relationship with his family, it seems that your loving relationship as brothers ended that day he died. He didn't even look at you, much less talk to you.

What a hypocrite.

You can't say anything about Timothy Drake. Seriously, and it's not because he's a great brother, it's because you've literally never talked to him. You only know of his existence because of the times Dick shouted his name in excitement at him every time he came to the mansion and because you found out that Todd wanted to kill him. Furthermore, your room and his are in the same hallway with the slight difference that your room was at the end.

Spoiled child...

Damian Wayne was a totally unique case. He was violent and explosive but apparently your father preferred him over you. Damian considered you a zero on the left. He never found value in you, neither in your physique (you didn't fight), nor in your mind (you're not outstanding) so he didn't waste even a second insulting you or degrading you.

According to him, you were just a nuisance to the Wayne family and a disappointment to the Batfamily. And it didn't matter if you were going to complain to Bruce about Damian's behavior, he always made excuses for it.

Is this how unconditional love looks like?

Cassandra Cain was another ghost like you inside the mansion... With the only difference that she did pay attention to her even though she didn't talk much. She was never interested in interacting with you even though you tried several times.

Even a mute could attract more attention than you...

Stephanie Brown. An extroverted girl who wasn't afraid to give her opinion, but apparently she didn't have any opinion about you. She always gets excited to see others and she was quick to look for things to do with them. But, if she saw you, she would just give you a slightly awkward smile and she would get out of there quickly.

She runs away from you like you have the plague.

Barbara Gordon is seen by most of the family as an older sister, however you see her as a grumpy secretary. You could be the most respectful person in the world towards her but just seeing you next to her asking what she was doing made her look at you as if you were a villain she is looking for.

I'm sure she hasn't seen a villain with the irritation she sees you with.

Duke Thomas is the new addition to the Wayne Family. You have nothing against him, he is a kind and smiling boy. Who you could even consider to be the kindest to you of all your brothers.

When he first came to Wayne Manor, despite you being a nobody in that family, he took an interest in you. At first you thought he did it out of pity, but when one day you heard him asking Alfred where you were because he wanted to show you something, that's when you realized he wasn't doing it out of pity. And that made you feel special, being the sibling Duke turned to.

But you couldn't help but hate how easily he integrated into the family. How easily they accepted him.

And last but not least, Alfred Pennyworth. He tried to be there for you and he encouraged you to keep trying to get your family's attention. But even with the butler's attention you couldn't help but long for the affection of your father and brothers.

You are more sure that without him you would have gone crazy in that big mansion.

For that reason, the only ones you would miss once you left that place would be Alfred and Duke.

"Would you be mad at me if I decided to leave the mansion?”

What a bad way to start a conversation.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter. As was custom you watched Alfred make breakfast, occasionally helping him. The butler, upon hearing your question, momentarily stopped what he was doing. Thanks to his poker face, Alfred didn't show any surprise but you knew well that he wasn't expecting that question.

"Pardon me, master (name)?”

"Would you forget about me if I left the mansion?" you asked

"Of course not!" Alfred quickly answered, his tone of voice a little high. However, upon noticing the change in his tone of voice he composed his posture again.

“I mean, of course I would never forget you, master (name). Why do you ask me those questions?”

"You know why Alfie" you sighed.

Alfred likewise sighed and turned off the stove where he was cooking. He walked over to you and sat down in front of you.

"Master (name)…" he was saying but you interrupted him.

"No Alfred… Could you let me talk… please..?" you asked gently but firmly

"Since I came to this place fifteen years ago I have always been part of the ghosts of this mansion and- and I got tired of being that. For a long time I have been thinking about moving somewhere else, away from this mansion, away from them…” You said that last sentence angrier but you controlled your temper.

"But… I can't leave knowing that you don't agree with my decision. I can't stand the thought of you being angry with me.”

You couldn't even imagine a world where he, Alfred Pennyworth, the man who decided to take your father's tablecloth, was angry with you. But even if he gets angry at your decision, you are going to follow your plan to leave the city.

Alfred smiled slightly and took your hand.

"You know very well that I would support you in whatever my little one does. Unless that decision put your life in danger of course" they both laughed at that comment.

"So that's a yes?" you asked with hope in your eyes and voice

"Yes" he nodded "Just take care of yourself"

You could see in his eyes that there was a bit of fear in his eyes as well as something else that you didn't know what it was and you didn't pay attention to it at that moment.

You should have paid more attention to him in that moment.

"Thanks Alfie" you hugged him regardless of the fact that the table was between the two of you. The butler hugged you anyway, his hug felt warm and safe.

"You don't have to thank me, Master (name)"

Then you broke away from the hug and ran to your room with a big smile on your face. You were finally going to be able to live the way you wanted, without living in the shadow of everyone. Finally free.

Once in your room you started making some calls and organizing your things quietly (not that the inhabitants of this mansion cared much about what you did) so as not to attract attention. In a week, this place will only be a bad dream and you will be able to move from this nightmare to a dream with a happy ending.

Or not?

Hellooo! I hope you liked the start of this story! To be honest, this has been something I have wanted to do for a long time. And Let me remind you that English isn't my first language so if you find some mistakes I would appreciate fo you to tell me in a good way.

Anyway, if you liked it I'll appreciate for you leave a heart.

See you in the next one!!

-Izadi <3

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nemesyaaa · 1 month ago

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soft heart shaped // brother's ennemy!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; there was a fair reason of why your brother always keeping you away from the kook boys, even his own friends. there was also a fair a reason of why he wouldn't let you around his ennemy.

warnings ; +18 content. reader is kind of innocent but it doesn't involve rafe having a kink/or attraction about it. mean!rafe. intox kink/drugging. protective!brother. daddy issues. smut. oral(f&m r.). dumbification. daddy kink. light of violence. little age gap. mentions of stalking. soft!crybaby. p in v. dubcon. lil background. again, be aware of the warnings.

author's note ; as much as i love the brother's bsf trope, the brother's ennemy concept ran into my mind. i also wanted to add ; reader and her brother are kooks. it's not about pogues matters. i'm sorry if it's kinda shitty.

your brother always made sure you were safe and you had everything you needed. it was understandable knowing that none of your parents had been home for so long. he made sure that you always had what you wanted, and that you didn't have to lift a finger, or sweat a single drop to get it. all you had to do was ask for it to be wrapped in a gift at your bed. you were the youngest, the little princess who had to be spoiled and pampered, the one to whom we granted every whim, the one to whom we said amen without necessarily being a believer, the one we looked at hoping that she would always remain as beautiful and innocent, but also the one we always admired from afar because she wasn't allowed to be with boys alone.

your brother was one of those siblings who could have been the child prodigy if your parents were still around. he always had good grades at school, always praised by his teachers, and he knew how to play a musical instrument. It seemed that when you heard him playing the piano, you stopped crying. you had heard him play so many times, sitting on his lap, his hands sliding across the keyboard as he gently pushed your fingers on the piano keys, hoping that a few notes would calm you down.

he was protective. he had always lost interest in other girls just to only care about you. he was protective because he didn't want you to suffer, and because he knew the kook boys. even though he hated pogues, he knew you'd be safer with one of them than one of those rich boys with so many privileges.

one of them was particularly his enemy. rafe cameron. the one and only son of ward cameron. the businessman who controlled the island but was also one of your father's former best friends. you had seen him so many times in your house with all his children and his trophy wife.

rafe had always been a little weird around you. he always said he was there for your brother but it was always you he looked at. he always found an excuse to be with you. sometimes you wonder if it wasn't a question of ego.

you knew he and your brother didn't get along. they were always arguing and fighting. “I forbid you from hanging out with him.” your brother had warned you once, after coming back with an ugly black eye on the face. “is that him? " you asked shyly, swallowing hard. his gaze was fierce. “exactly. that’s why you have to listen to me. ”

did that necessarily make Rafe Cameron a dangerous person? You wondered because your brother could also be very violent. never towards you. but towards others.

could rafe cameron attack princesses like you, didn't you deserve better treatment? you were always so confused.

but one day, you knew that your brother had shot Rafe at a party. and after that he was gone, nothing more. you were alone at home. there was no one left.

He didn't respond to your messages or your calls. if he was no longer there, there were no more rules, no more prohibitions, right? you were totally free. you could wear the clothes you wanted, talk to whoever you wanted, come home at the time you wanted, go wherever you wanted. you no longer needed permission or approval. you no longer had any chains.

so you went to this kook party that everyone was talking about and that Sarah absolutely wanted you to come. she said you needed that, rather than staying alone in your castle.

When you arrived there, your heart was racing. Sure, your brother wasn't there to judge you, or tell you to go home, but you had the impression of feeling his warning dark stare through all these people looking at you.

you wanted to turn around, to run away. you heard people talking, music blaring from the speakers, all these drunken bodies pressed together which made you even more transparent. It wasn’t long before you started smelling like alcohol, drugs, and sex, the scent exploding in every corner.

while you were still thinking about leaving, you moved away but your back hitted someone's chest. a hand was placed on your shoulder to hold you close then a slightly mocking chuckle was heard in your ear.

“Careful, baby. "

you turned to confront the person. “rafe. " you announced without surprise.

"Such a face. I might think you're disappointed."

“I was looking for Sarah.”

“It’s a shame. She’s not here.”

“I’m leaving then.”

"I'm afraid you're not going anywhere." he mocked gently.

you looked at him strangely. he was there in front of you, with a drink in his hand, and his body was blocking your way.

“It’s not a game.”

“oh princess, it’s not because you don’t play that no one plays. and you see… when I look at you in this ridiculous tight outfit and especially alone, I really want to play.”

“you’re sick.” you replied.

"yes." he simply replied "but baby, everyone knows it, it's not a secret. on the other hand..." he leaned over to whisper something in your ear. “i would like to know how much you are too willing yourself to come to my party without your brother to protect you.”

“I don’t need him.” you defended yourself, stepping back so as not to be seen so close to him. “I’m a big girl.”

"yea, such a big girl. look at you, you managed to dress yourself." he teased you with a laugh. “ i'm joking, i admit you're pretty. why that face, baby ? i thought that little dress of yours wanted some rafe validation. ”

“you’re really not funny.”

"I think above all that you should relax. and I can help you with that..." he suggested softly. but all his sympathy was so fake. “have a drink.”

you laughed sarcastically and his smile widened. he had followed you into the crowd, acting like a bodyguard so you wouldn’t get lost among the people. he placed an arm around your waist, the size of his hands groping at your hips, pretending to be a gentleman when this kindness was purely ridiculous.

“don’t touch me. ” you snapped.

“too late. i just did.” he replied. “If you didn’t want me around, you shouldn’t have come here. you don’t make the rules in my house. ”

“It’s called harassment.”

“oh isn't-it a big word for little girls like you? is that what your bro told you to say if i touch you? ”

it was so annoying to see him openly making fun of you. to believe that you had not grown or evolved for him.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked kindly.

“you think you’re going to drug me without my knowledge?” you laughed. " Nice try but forget about it."

he took a sip of his drink and responded with an emotionless voice. “you’re wrong.”

"what? you would never have drugged me? stop lying."

"no I mean. I wouldn't have done it without your knowledge." and he left with a smirk.

you grimaced before taking a drink at the bar. you had inspected the inside before drinking it because you didn't trust anyone here. and Sarah wasn't there which was weird since her boyfriend, Topper was there.

you had managed to relax after several drinks, and you wanted to take a seat on the huge sofa in the salon but it was full. so you found a space upstairs in one of the empty rooms.

you had barely sat down on the bed when the door was already opening to reveal someone. rafe cameron. again.

“are you stalking me?”

"I'm not sure you'd like the answer, baby. but I'll let you guess. after all, you're a big girl."

"Can you stop doing that? Do you think I'm scared because my brother isn't here anymore?"

"you see, I didn't really like the fact that he shot me. Do you know how much it hurts to be shot? No, I'm sure you don't. Little princesses like you have no awareness of the real world, right? ” he knelt between your legs, keeping them apart with a hand, and lightly pinching your forehead to get into your brain. “ If we don't tell them anything, they know nothing. ”

"I'm not stupid. I know it hurts but I didn't do anything to you. I'm not my brother."

“yes, you’re pretty.” he admitted, caressing the inside of your thighs, massaging them slowly to get your attention. "so pretty that you always got what you want when you want, right? but it's not really fair to me. I've never had that privilege. but you... you're an angel , a blessing, will you grant it to me?”

using your kindness against you, no one had ever done that to you. you were always so nice to people. you were incapable of saying no, of resisting, of being mean. This was far from your behavior.

“What do you want?”

" This. ” he had lifted the bottom of your dress gently, before revealing your panties, and revealing your pussy.

“Are you looking for revenge?”

“I would never do such a thing. I have always liked you. You're sweet…” he placed one of his fingers against your pussy, sliding it against your slick without pushing them inside your walls, just enough to leave them sticky with your wetness. he also caressed your swollen clit, addressing little circles to make it throb under his touch. you gasped loudly, his thumb playfully toying around your bullied nub. you didn't know what he was looking for but when he started to touch you more insistently, you wanted to close your legs but he blocked them with a hand to force you to let them spread. “ stay still, i'm not done. ”

he wanted to get a wide view of your pussy clamping against his fingers, to see how obedient and a good girl you could be when it came to sex.

“so sweet…” he said as he fingered your glistening cunt, forcing the stretch of your hole with strengthful strokes.

you were so tight he could feel each of his fingers moving inside you as you were grinding your hips to them. but more importantly your walls were clenching around them. the sound was obscene and viscous, as you welcomed every vibration inside your body. you were hot and your mouth was filled with breathy moans. his pace was fast and gentle as if he didn't want to hurt you. “ here it is…that's a big girl right now…”

all his three fingers were buried inside you. their thickness brushing every corner of your walls. he lighty sped up, leaving you to gasp louder while his digits ruined you. “ look at you, sweet angel turning into a little whore. is that what dad and big bro left the home, because they can't handle you anymore ? ” he rushed a deep stroke as he spoke, causing your back to arche widely and sobbing more.

you turned your head, trying to get his raspy voice and mean words out of your mind but you were a little dizzy. he was annoying with all this teasing and you can't barely stand it. but with his fingers buried in your sore insides, he had the control of your whole body. he got your pussy so easily on his side,stuffing your slutty core, and fucking you all way from to the hitting spot that was made you scream harder. he was driving his fingertips so hard that hot rush of tears was flowded over your cheeks. he didn't shut you up even if you were still at the party, because he wanted to hear you, from the little cries and sniffles, to the breathy voice and spitting babbles over your mouth. his fingers were so quick and you wanted to try to make him slow down by placing a hand on his, but that only motivated him to go faster. you had no choice but to squirm, while his gaze bore into your face.

you flushed, as he was working his fingers further in your cunt. he was hard for you to the point he started to feel the pain of boner in his pants. the music outside the room was nothing against the sloppy wet sounds of your pussy over his digits. the way he was pressuring your clit while making evil and forceful back and forth in your hole was enough to make you lose your mind.

you thought he was going to leave after making you cum, that he had gotten what he wanted but you were wrong.

he had searched for something in the drawer. a bottle of lube. and you thought that was it.

when he was back at you, his cock was wet and glowy with some substance. “i'm gonna make you very pretty, baby.” he said, before tearing your lips in two with his tip, forcing you to open your mouth wider and take him.

he pushed his cock into you without warning, leaving you no choice to do your job. you wrapped your hand around the end of his shaft, while your mouth sank around his member. you had started to suck him, your lips forming a tight but deep well around his cock. everything was wet with your own saliva. you could feel his stomach twitch every time you pumped his hard cock until it bulged inside you.

he had grabbed your hair with one hand, accompanying your head in your movements, leaving your mouth shaping in an o. you thought everything was fine, but you had started to feel a little dizzy, and also to feel your body getting a little weaker. rafe was turned on. and with the strange feeling that currently warmed your body, you couldn't maintain the pace anymore so he took care of it, driving your little lips to his dick. you were sucking as he was feeding you all his length inside your mouth, shoving it enough to make you gag and hurts your throat. a smirk appeared on his face when you became extremely needy, literally lapping at the leaking tip of his dick like a pup with wide round open eyes. “ yea, try to catch daddy's dick..come on you can do it... don't you want to own it ? ” he was giving you fat and strong slaps with his dick on the side of your cheeks, as you were trying to run your tongue against it.

he took back the stream of saliva in your lolling tongue before fucking your mouth at an insane pace. he doesn't care that you couldn't breathe and that your eyes were teary, he just wanted you to be sucking at his dick.

you giggled when he pushed your body back onto the mattress, while you couldn't really stand on your feet. he was on top of you, standing with all his big frame that was making you ridiculously smaller than him. he had spit into his fist before stroking himself, making sure all his shaft was wet and nice. “see? I told you I could make you feel better. "

and he pushed his dick you with such a sharp thrust that you whined. since your hole was still a little tight, he had forced your walls slightly. you panted, choking on each of his other strokes. you were euphoric and your unsteady body fucked hard against the mattress. “Come on, baby. nothing fun anymore? i thought you wanted to laugh. ” he mocked your tears with another rough push, sending you waves of pleasure and shivers.

he was fucking your pussy like a beast, bruising your cervix with such a primal need. you were now such a mess, babbling and crying because of him, because of the way his dick was bullying your insides. it felt so good but you could feel some pain.

as he used your cunt, taking all the space of your entire hole, rafe was delighted. no, he wasn't going to cry or regret because you decided to be a crybaby. he was going to continue fucking you until you were completely senseless and his cock fully empty.

he always hated your brother. it was like that. it was ward's fault who told him he was the son he never had. rafe couldn't help but be jealous of this relationship that his enemy and his father had. he felt erased. and you, the perfect little princess who was never blamed for anything, who was always in her own corner, he couldn't hate you, even less blame you. but he could still use you.

you were the perfect victim. you were so clean and innocent. and your brother loved you so much that rafe felt obligated to hurt you.

you were like a doll, a stupid doll with no brain that he could control so easily. you were helpless, each thrusts slamming so hards. he was forcing your head to stay, holding it into his palm. “I know, baby. i know how you feel, but it's gonna get worse if you don't let it go. "

you weren’t really sure what he was talking about, you didn’t really understand what he was saying. you were in another dimension. you could see but it was slightly blurry. his tall figure was moving above you, words were being said but you were just there, a trembling smile over your lips, a tipsy look, and crying completely out of sync with the situation.

only rafe knew the truth. you didn't feel like that because of the alcohol but the drugs that had been added with the lub. the drug quickly took effect. your body had been in possession of the substance in a few minutes but above all under its submission.

“you're so pretty. should i send a photo to your brother? "

you didn't even wince at the brother. you just laughed like it was the funniest joke you had ever heard. “Let’s play a game. you wanna play games? "

you nodded. one of the rare gestures that you managed to do fully. rafe had smiled before caressing your face. “ can you feel the inches inside you? "

you nodded with a little giggle. “if you guess the exact number, daddy's will give you all the orgasms you want and need like the princess you're. if it's wrong, you let daddy use you for the rest of the night.”

it was evil. he knew you wouldn't have the answer because you couldn't think.

“Come on, baby. don't let daddy's win the game. ” he said so softly in your ears, but his voice sounded so fake.

you tried. one time. three times. until your chances were exhausted.

“'s too bad. doesn't matter, i bet you wouldn't guess earlier all the fingers i've got in you. "

you pouted, and he just fucked you harder, rushing the pace into you to an insane one. this time, your whimpers were muffled beneath his large palm.

“ it's okay, baby. you don't need a brain when you've got such a perfect tight pussy. “

he was big. you could feel it. there was a rough strength in his thrusts. your body was pleading against his heavy one. you hated to feel like such a crybaby around him but you couldn't help.

all those tears on your cheek were real, even the saliva coating your lips, and the sniffles wetting your nose. you couldn't fight against his control.

since there is no one around you, you were craving for some attention. and rafe was giving you the one who needed, only by a simple sentence. he started the conversation with you, he was looking at you while you speak and he's listening like he cares when you know he don't. he was touching you and standing close to you like you really exist.

you shouldn't be with him. your brother warned you a lot. rafe cameron was the type of guy who doesn't fit girls like you as he said. he also said that Rafe doesnt love and only damage. he was toxic for you.

but wasn't it also toxic to listen to your brother all your life ? you were not a little girl anymore.

Rafe had filled your pussy with his cum, invading the tight canal of your pussy to the point it was coating your slit. he slipped out his dick before milking it and spreading every leaking drop over your body until there was nothing left.

he made you clean all his fat length with your mouth, feeling the pleasure holding him when you start to lick all of his cock. your tongue was already wet, but now sticky with drool and cum. you pushed your needy muscle to lap at the reddish dick, watching the face of your brother's enemy with little eyes as you were cleaning the mess.

“I bet your brother now has a real reason to hate me. " he said with a playful tone.

“ Rafe...”

“you can stay here. it's not like you can go anywhere with the substance inside you… but don't worry, i will be back. ”

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mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

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for you

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.

Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘

Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day.

He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.

“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not.

“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”

“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“

Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face.

“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw.

“I said that she looked fuckable.”

It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face.

Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie.

Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place.

You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today.

You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation.

“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly.

“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles.

“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in.

Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart.

Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him.

Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body.

“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt.

“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”

“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”

“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer.

“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office.

As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you.

“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.

“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him.

“Is that so?” She looked at you.

“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.”

“Liar.”

“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.”

“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!”

“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.”

“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange.

“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room.

“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk.

“What did you want to talk about, professor?”

“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love.

“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded.

“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”

“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms.

“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long.

Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet.

When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.

“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock.

“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.

“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”

“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief.

“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him.

"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling.

“I thought she hated me.”

You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you.

“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.”

“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy.

Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”

“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips.

“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh.

“Then I'll let you do it.”

#mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x y/n #slytherin boys #harry potter fanfiction

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liiixsturniolos · 3 months ago

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"Think you can take it?"

matt sturniolo x reader & chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut, unprotected, p in v, threesome, oral (male receiving).

¿ what happens when you Matt and Chris get a little too bored, but both of them want you.. you'll have to compromise and fuck 'em both at the same time.

You were sitting in the living room with your friends, Chris and Matt. Watching a movie you've seen before. Nick was out at a space camp meeting, and you all sat there bored without him.

You sit relaxed in the middle of the couch, with Matt on one side and Chris on the other.

The room is uncomfortably silent. Chris and Matt are looking back and forth at you.

"God, I'm so bored." You sigh.

Chris' hand slides up your thigh, "Ya' look so fuckin' good in those shorts.." he whispers

Blood rushes to your face, forcing your cheeks to turn a rosy-red,

Matts eyes focus on your face. He's analysing every expression, watching the way you blush and Chris' hand creeping further and further up your thigh.

You catch Matts eye, and he gives you a jealous glare and aggressively grabs your other thigh. They fight for your attention, like children, it was pathetic, if only they knew you wanted them both.

Chris leans in, pulls up your chin, and kisses you for what feels like hours, fluttering your eyes open and closed as he wraps his lips around yours.

Then he let's go, and turns to look at you, until Matt grabs you, kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down on your mouth, his hands slipping under your top,

Minutes later, you're all undressed, Matt is sitting on the edge of the couch, pants down, and you're sliding off his underwear.

You dont know how you ended up like this, but you knew you didn't want to stop.

“Can you be a good girl and suck my cock?" Matt says, innocently, with the tilt of his head,

“Go on, let him fuck ya' mouth ma'," Chris tells you as he slowly slides into you from behind.

You attach your mouth around Matts head, and he lets you get used to his dick in your mouth before thrusting his hips forward, his tip hitting the back of your throat violently,

"Can I?" Chris whispers slyly in your ear, you whisper back an approval, and he started fucking you fast, and deep, you tried to keep your mouth around Matt but it dropped open,

"Mmm..-fuck!" You cry out as Chris pounds himself into you, hitting your spot, He presses his chest against your back, "Ya' gotta' keep helpin' Matt out to, or ill stop" he mumbles, you agree to this, taking Matts dick back into your mouth happily.

“Shes soaked." Chris chuckles. Rubbing against your clit perfectly, "come for me," he groans in your ear,

Your legs start to shake, and you let out a loud moan with your mouth still wrapped around Matt and come around Chris' dick. Chris comes at the same time, his cum spilling out of you,

But he continues to thrust himself into you, and you let out soft sighs and whimpers as he does, focusing now on sucking Matt off, you run your tongue around him, putting pressure on his cock, flicking your tongue across him, taking him in further of your throat.

"Fuck-ugh..fuck." Matt moans out as he comes into your mouth, throwing his head back in pleasure.

You give him a proud look before using your fingers to wipe away some of his cum that had dripped out of your mouth...

hope you liked this shittt ;)!! Interact if you did, likes, re-blogs and I LOVE comments from anyone. <3

taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @1-d0nt-w4nn4-b3-m3-4nym0r3 @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @matts-myloverboy @sturniolo-fann @emely9274

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jayktoralldaylong · 1 month ago

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One of my favourite things about Arcane is that all the couples can be read as toxic, which is GREAT.

I'm tired of people bringing morality debates into dark media. Let dark media be fucking dark. You guys wouldn't survive a day in the TMA fandom, needing everyone to be as good as gold. How are they going to make for enjoyable complex characters if they're not morally grey. In fact, I wish there'd been more expansion on just how morally black they can become!

"CaitVi is so toxic" According to lesbian statistics, that sounds just about accurate. 💀 Heck, I wish Caitlyn had done more (Not really, but it would have been nice to further explore the darkness in her heart). Isn't it adorable how she immediately folded as soon as Vi called her cupcake? Caitlyn's like one of those villains that will consistently do the most....until it comes to someone else hurting her girlfriend. The only one allowed to hurt her girlfriend is her. 💀

Then let's talk about Vi. Someone pointed out how Vi never cared about Zaun's independence in the first place and many people yelled that they were wrong. But actually, they were right. Vi never wanted Zaun. Zaun was Silco's dream, and Jinx inherited that dream cause Silco would never shut up about it. Vi wanted Piltover to take responsibility for all the shit they allowed to happen in the Undercity. That's a part of the reason she joined up with Caitlyn in the first place. Let's not forget she wasn't dissuaded when she dragged Jayce down to fight with her and he killed a child. Children been dying, it's been her whole life. Someone needed to do something about it, and Zaun would have just isolated the people from all the privileges that Piltover SHOULD have been providing for them. Some people just can't accept that Independence cannot in fact solve every problem, and sometimes independence is colonisers running away from the responsibility of fixing the mess that they started in the first place.

Besides, we all know Vi joined up with the Enforcers because "I feel like I am worthless if I can't be of service." She'd already run out of family members to serve, Caitlyn was the next best thing. She's just like Jayce.

And speaking of Jayce, let's talk about his violent levels of codependency with anyone who'll give him attention. People LOOOOVE to talk about Mel, but it's there with Viktor too. When bro wasn't basing his worth on his inventions, he was centering it around Viktor.

Viktor who decided at some point in his life that he would not LIVE without Jayce. He was fine dying without him, but living without him was unacceptable. Oh how healthy. 🙄😂 Viktor be the kind of toxic ex to threaten divorce 500 times over, then burn the world when you actually leave him. Jayce is no better cause he's the kind of guy to keep going back to his toxic Ex.

Yes, Mel is manipulative. That's what I love about her. How are you guys failing to give this woman the praise of being an outsider in Piltover, but running their entire council. 💀 Girl raises her hand once and the whole government starts spinning. She was the best sugar mummy Jayce and Viktor could ever ask for. She kept the whole city running. Literally the entire of Piltover dancing on her palm. And yes she manipulated Jayce but let's not forget she thought that was a love language. 💀 You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at Ambessa for raising her that way.

I also don't think it's fair to blame her for the Undercity situation, she's not native. Monkey see, monkey do, and not a single one of those Council members actually cared about the situation down there, it was deplorable. 💀 Jayce did way more in his two weeks as Councillor than any of those drug pushing, money laundering, Piltovian heads of government.

And that just covers MelJayVik, we don't even need to get fully into TimeBomb, cause we know what's wrong there. 💀 Surely we have not forgotten the many teammates Jinx has killed, but making sure to never kill Ekko cause that's her man. Ekko has a lot to unpack, like how his consistent and unwavering love for Jinx is an indication of a lot of doors he might not be ready to open. I know they dynamics go crazy and I love to see it.

Ambessa and Sevika are a crack ship but I'm sure we all know bedroom dynamics go crazy with Mrs. Warlord and Miss Liberation. I love it when characters clash in a toxic heap. It's insane and should be explored.

Quit saintifying my toxic ships with your woke morality debates. If you want everyone to be sunshine and rainbows then you should be watching literally anything else. 💀 "It's not healthy." GOOD, I like it that way. 💀 Angst, spice and trauma are the recipe for a plethora of explorative fanfiction. Any of their dynamics can be taken in any toxic direction and I want that EXPLORED.

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evieelyzabethh · 2 months ago

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"homecoming"

⭒"and i told her in my heart is where she always be"⭒ college AU Arcane headcanons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞ slightly pervy jayce, and a bunch of fluff. ALSO, one of my dearest pookies requested a college au so everyone say thank you sidda 💋

♞Vi♞

♞Vi would totally be a student athlete and a very good one. I don't see her as a basketball or football girl but baseball actually. Swinging a bat around is a controlled way to get aggression out. She played soccer and football in high school, though. She did football first, her and Jayce signing up together and both managing to get a spot on the team, but she got annoyed with all the padding really quick and only stuck it out for a year because of Jayce. She moved to soccer but got kicked off the team for fighting after a girl kept bumping into her and never got fouled for it. The fight was pretty bad, and in combination with her pre existing record of violent behavior, the school put her in counseling for her aggression issues.

♞She deeply enjoys baseball and takes it very seriously. Regular trips to the batting cages with Vander helped her regulate her emotions. It requires patience and control and a bat. She really loves her bat. When she made it onto the team, Jinx bought her a wooden one that she spray-painted, and she keeps it in her dorm room. She also likes the atmosphere. Her hand is always in a bag of sunflower seeds, she appreciates a good bubblegum, she likes how she looks in the uniform.

♞This being said, college Vi cleans up her act a bit. She doesn't get into fights anymore, she raised her F's into B's, and she got into a really nice school on a sports scholarship that she refuses to lose. She takes this as an opportunity to get good at something. She knows major league women's baseball isn't really a thing and she doubts she's good enough to ever make it to the Olympics, so she dedicates her time to finding something to make of her life

♞You two meet in a language class. It's a requirement at your college and she's only there because it's the easiest option that they stick all the student athletes in, and you were quite frankly just being lazy and wanted a class you could get an easy A in. She shows up slightly late, but the professor lets it slide as it's only the first day. The only open seat is the one next to you, quietly sitting in the back of the room with your laptop up staring intently as you go through the course's syllabus. She smiles. She thinks you're cute.

♞You can hear the dad rock blasting in her earphones, her hands in the pocket of a school branded hoodie with her head down as she slips in quietly next to you. She takes up a lot of space, her water bottle is one of the huge gallon sized ones, her laptop is large and kinda clunky, her notebook is also splayed out and you silently judge her sloppy handwriting. Just as preoccupied as you are, she's going through her schedule to see what time practice starts and gets out, what time she has to be at her volunteering commitment, the time slot she blocked out to call her sister.

♞Part of her scholarship is working in surrounding communities at recreation centers to encourage kids to get active. She thinks it's stupid at first, but eventually she finds out that she enjoys working with kids. They are constantly in awe of her, constantly asking her to give them piggyback rides or toss them around a bit, but they also deeply admire her. It's not a foreign feeling for her to be looked up to, but it's one she hasn't felt in a long time. She always wants to be better, and they make her feel like she's moving in the right direction.

♞She wouldn't start talking to you right away. Contrary to popular belief, Vi isn't super popular with the ladies. She is much quieter, she likes to keep to herself. She only sparks a conversation with you to ask what you got on the last test because she didn't do all that great and wanted a study partner. She likes being your seatmate a lot. You're just so nice. You're the first to offer a pencil if you need it, you keep sweet-scented hand sanitizer in your bag and soft tissues which she almost feels bad about how many she steals when her allergies hit in the spring.

♞Finals season is going back and forth from the library and her fancy athlete dorm after it closes to study for finals, both of you running on an ungodly amount of energy drinks and two hours of sleep, some nights you fall asleep on her shoulder when even the pale light of your laptop screens can no longer keep you awake. She freezes every time, not wanting to move you but also wanting you to be comfortable, slowing her typing to a gentle pace before giving up entirely and falling asleep herself. You wake up to Vi's earsplitting snores, low music still playing from her speaker, the tv shifting hours ago from bright cartoons to some live action sitcom from decades ago. You debate on leaving, but the buses are no longer running, and she drives you herself, stranding you at her dorm in her large comfy bed where you willingly lay yourself back into her arms.

♞Her teammates definitely know about her crush on you. Anytime you come to their practices or walk her to them, she has a pep in her step and a smirk on her face the whole time. She swears she's not that obvious, but she talks about you constantly and the mere mention of your name has her scrambling. She is a show-off during practices, maybe playing a bit too hard as she slides onto bases in her already ratty sweatpants.

♞She would ask you out at one of their games. She's not big on super big and showy public confessions, so she wouldn't have you guys on the jumbotron or announced by the commentators, but after the game she would catch you in the crowd and ask her to be your girlfriend. Your first date would be to dinner after the game because she is absolutely starving, but she does pay for both of your meals.

★Ekko★

★Ekko, like Vi, would be at university on a scholarship, though one for engineering or something STEM related. He's there to pursue some sort of STEM degree but he abuses the fuck out of gen-ed classes. He absolutely loves being able to take a variety of different classes and different disciplines. He's done some culinary work, some studio art classes, some music theory. He has so many interests and he is determined to get the best out of the experience.

★While his nose isn't always stuck in a book, he's always working on something. His dorm is a mess of papers, his clothes are strewn around the floor, and he probably isn't even there because he's in a lab or in workshop or in the grocery store because he finally got tired of ramen noodles. It's a good thing the university offered co-ed dorms because no one else would be able to put up with him but Jinx, though the second she rolls her ankle after stepping on one of his shoes she has half the mind to burn all his stuff.

★Their dorm room is quite nice. They're the type that have led lights and posters all over the walls, those fake vine things hanging over his bed. The lights are always low in there, they forget about the ceiling light because they use their desk lamps so much. They don't have the nicest things, him and Jinx splitting one fridge and one microwave and maybe a snack cart, but they would have a comfy bean bag chair in there.

★He would get noticed around campus because he skateboards to class and wears cool outfits. The university social media has a page dedicated to OOTDs that he run's and it gets pretty popular. He isn't in a bunch of clubs, I think he would stick to one or maybe two. Of any of them, he would be involved in whatever social justice club they have, and while only a freshman, his passion gets him on the administrative team for communication and outreach. He is a master at Canva and is seen all across campus putting up fliers

★He is a D1 procrastinator which is ironic because he is always stressed. The only motivation he needs is the weight of all the work he has to do on his chest eventually being released and actually feeling like he can breathe.

★Ekko...with a belly button piercing...yes. He would have a few other piercings besides his bellybutton, including a daith, tragus, cartilage, and the first and second on his lobe. He prefers gold jewelry to silver and wears a lot of crop tops to show off the piercing. He takes terrible care of them because he refuses to buy the saline solution and raw dogs it with some soap and water and he hasn't had any reject yet.

★He would be a TA for Heimerdinger in grad school and would hang around his office a lot. A very chaotic lecturer in his recitation sections. He gets to the room a solid hour or two early to work on his dissertation and when class starts, he hops from topic to topic. He loves that chalkboard, he's all over it. He also likes coming to class in nice suits like the one he was in the alternate universe.

★You and him would meet after he bumped into you on his skateboard. He had been replying to an email on his way to class and you had been trying to catch up on the reading you were supposed to have done a week ago and you walked right into him, knocking the phones out of both of your hands and sending the skateboard rolling until it hit a bench. You both scramble to apologize, and as he offers you a ringed hand to help you off the ground, you go back and forth claiming it was completely your fault and not the others. He remembers you after that, partially because you hit the ground pretty hard and he's scared he gave you a concussion, and partially because he thought you were gorgeous.

★He would keep noticing you around campus and Jinx would bully him into saying something to you after the umpteenth time of telling you how cute you looked in that outfit today and how locked in you were at the library and how he wants help finding your insta so he can stalk you. All you see one day at the dining hall is a very confused Ekko with a very annoyed Jinx behind him pushing him your way and leaving quickly. You had been eating alone, laptop sat beside your half empty plate, your blue light glasses laying down on your nose in hopes of protecting you from going blind at thirty from how much time you spend staring at your laptop. Conversation is extremely slow at first, but when you two find your rhythm, he builds the courage to ask for your number.

★Lots of movie nights in his or your dorm or one of the lounges in your building while you do his retwists. Be warned, he is very tender headed and can't sit still to save his life, so you keep having to tap him with the comb and tell him to stop jerking before the parts come out wonky. Also, dye and detox days!!! He complains about his neck hurting while he's bent over the sink, but the feel of your hands in his scalp makes it bearable. You're confined inside as the dye penetrates beneath some plastic bag from under the sink and end up playing a game on the console he brought from home.

❂Jayce❂

❂Though he started high school playing football, and was quite good at it, he does quit the team when Vi does. He was never a really big sports guy, though the gym teacher never stopped pestering him to join the team again. He was always far more interested in science. He went through all the phases as a kid, being obsessed with dinosaurs since he was three, then space up until he hit like 8th grade when he was first introduced to the concept of chemistry and liked the idea of blowing shit up. He had the coolest science fair projects and won like every one of them. Rather than being the kid who told his mom about it the night before, he had the date marked on his calendar and preplans what he wants to do for the year

❂All this being said, he gets offered a scholarship to go to a nice university despite not being in the same state of financial despair that Vi and Ekko were in. While some of the extra money goes towards his dorm, he does put a lot of it towards the club he's in, something like STEM Students for Change. He offers to fund the outreach meetings, the occasional events they put on, and renting tabling spaces.

❂He keeps to himself pretty often. He's not the biggest fan of having to do the big speaking stuff in his club, he's far more interested in being able to do the work behind the scenes. He's always been the type to be upset by non-academic attention, never one put much effort into getting a romantic partner. He's also not a big party guy, only going out at the request of a friend, and spends a lot of his time either in his dorm, one of the libraries, or one of the labs.

❂Very scatterbrained. He doesn't get anything done without his notebook which he takes with him everywhere and is full of scribbles of notes and things he needs to get done for the day. He is also the type to neglect doing basic human things, like eating, especially if it's not in his schedule. It's a cycle of "ok, if I finish a page of this paper then I'll go get a snack" which devolves into "I finished this page sooner than expected, I might as well keep going until 2:30" and then "I'm still not at a good stopping point, I'm gonna finish off this page" until he finishes the entire thing. Sometimes by that point his hunger is forgotten about, and he moves onto something else.

❂He abuses the fuck out of office hours. He is not afraid to send an email or just drop by anyone's office. He builds a great repertoire with his professor which is convenient later when he's getting tons of internship offers through recommendations and getting accepted into his major. He is also a registration warrior. Before his time, he's already been set up at his laptop for at least an hour perfecting his schedule making sure he gets all the classes he needs. He once had a nervous breakdown fall semester of his sophomore year because all the classes he needed were full by the time it was his turn to register. It was the worst semester of his life.

❂He constantly has a huge water bottle on him. Not nearly as big as Vi's, but still large and metal enough to knock someone out if he tried hard enough. He's also the first guy to set off the fire alarm in the residence hall while making popcorn. He swears up and down it wasn't his fault, which isn't entirely false because the alarm was sensitive and too close to the appliances, but he did burn the shit out of it and had to throw it out on his walk of shame.

❂You two would first interact at a party he dragged his friend to after his friend abandoned him and he got lost in the sea of people. He made the mistake of going out on Halloweekend, thinking that 11 would be early enough to party before the unruliness began but he was sadly mistaken. You had been with your friends having a grand time, slightly backed into the wall where he was, trying your hardest to dance without pressing against him too much. He only remembered your face because of the sheer number of times you looked back to apologize, feeling extra bad because of the blush on his face and how hard he was trying to keep his composure. You were clearly having fun in your very low cut and short costume and your eyes were sparkly and you ass was pressed so thoroughly onto his dick he almost passed out from how overwhelmed he was anytime you moved to whatever song was playing.

❂The next day in class, he notices you towards the back of the room, giggling at whatever on your phone and before he knows it, he's putting one foot in front of the other and sitting next to you. Like him, you were someone who liked to be early to guarantee your seat, so he had plenty of time to talk to you, embarrassed that your first impression of him had been the "awkward guy at the party".

❂Many of your dates would be study dates. He is quick with booking study rooms, making sure to throw a bunch of dry erase markers and abuse the hell out of those white boards while you pack a few snacks in your tote bag, so he makes sure to eat. You usually finish your work before he does, playing games on your laptop while snapping a few pictures of him as he slowly goes insane. Markings are all over the walls in every color of the rainbow by the time you two take a break, sliding over to sit in his lap as you two scroll on your phone with your head on his shoulder.

❂He does not have a lofted bed, which is great because you two fuck in his room constantly. He's very lucky to live in an apartment style dorm because Viktor would be pissed constantly being kicked out of his own room. It's his motivation for getting through his days. It used to be a sweet treat from the dining hall, but he hit it once and decided that pussy was just way better (I will be dropping a smut fic with this concept as my treat for getting through my exams)

☽Viktor☾

☽He was very picky with what college he went to. He did a lot of research beforehand. He was very confident that schools would be throwing money at him and planned on being very selective on whose money he took. He was looking at facilities, faculty, Rate My Professor, any measurement of a school's worth was being analyzed before he even thought of applying.

☽As mentioned above, he rooms with Jayce and likes to hit him with his cane when he tries to pick shit up for him or open the door. It becomes second nature at a certain point, he doesn't see it coming and only feels the impact. He loves to embarrass him. Their majors align pretty exactly and they take a lot of the same classes and any time he so much as lets the door close on Viktor its "Wow, I can't believe such a flagrant display of ableism! You really couldn't hold the door open for me?" and Jayce gets red, desperately trying to explain he gets thwacked with a cane every other time he opens the door for him.

☽He brings nothing to class but a pen and a notebook. Not even like a spiral 5 subject one, but one of those 50 cents marbled composition books. He does have a laptop, a very nice one at that, but it hardly ever leaves the dorm. He staunchly prefers physical notetaking to digital and slightly judges those who take notes on things like IPads. He just thinks it's unnecessary and often becomes a distraction. Jayce tries to convert him Viktor's gets firmer in his position after noticing everyone desert notetaking to play games or look at clothes after like the third week

☽While also an office hour abuser, he does prefer a zoom meeting if he can snag it. He's not one to drop by just to say hello, he wants a good relationship with them but he's not trying to get invited to Christmas. He also never forgets to do those course evals and give them a rating on Rate My Professor. There is nothing he hates more than a professor who doesn't give rubrics. That is his biggest pet peeve. That and someone who can't lecture, instead going on random tangents that barely relate back to the course material.

☽His go-to study music classical music. He’s particularly fond of Tchaikovsky, his go-to ballet to listen to being Sleeping Beauty. During the fall months he usually goes for Dracula and during the winter either Nutcracker or Coppelia. He's a fan of instrumental music in general as on the flip side of this are playlists full of the Minecraft or Undertale soundtracks.

☽A lanyard warrior. He is not someone who can just slide his keys in his bag, especially since he doesn't usually carry one around. He can't just carry them around because he will set them down somewhere and forget them and those replacement fees are like a couple hundred dollars. When he does carry a bag though, it's one of those nice leather messenger bags that he thrifted. Speaking of which, his brightness would be so low. He's not even hiding anything and it's a miracle he can even read anything on the screen. He also is someone who uses blue-light glasses when on his phone or laptop, which is part of the reason both are so dim. You are on his lockscreen and home screen on all of his devices, though.

☽He would be so good at proofreading anything you needed him to. While definitely a STEM major, he would also be a grammar stickler and is part of the dying breed of people who actually know how to write a paper without Chat GPT or AI. He would HATE all kinds of stuff like that. Slightly off topic, but he loves sharing all stupid discussions posts he has to do for class. He loves laughing at some of the idiots who say the wildest things, so wild that no one else in the class even wants to respond. He'd also be the type to develop favorite classmates through how they respond and only respond to those.

☽He has some sort of earbuds in his ears everywhere he goes. It's always either headphones or wired earbuds. He would hate the wireless ones after the one time he tried them, and they kept falling out of his ear and it was too much of a hassle having to repeatedly bend down to get them. He likes the noise cancelling ones too, he is impossible to bother when he's using them.

☽For his gen-eds, I can see him getting into film or maybe history. History because he's always had a minute interest in it. He's never been a big war buff, his niche was probably more aligned with the classics. I think he would be fascinated with ancient Greece and Rome. As for film, I can see that being something he decided to take for the fuck of it but then realized he was very interested. Maybe not a rom-com or film bro kinda guy, he would be interested in super niche, campy films. He would like wackier, more experimental stuff

☽He would meet you at some film screening he's going to for extra credit in one of his classes. You showed up because the showing just so happened to be one of your favorite movies. The extra credit was just for showing up, it was also for attending the trivia session after the screening with the points depending on how many questions you could get right and since you both had gone alone and had ended up sitting next to each other and he had already decided you were gorgeous, he decided to ask you to be his partner. He felt a little bad being carried through the competition by you, but you were so excited to just share all the fun facts you knew that he decided he could live with it.

☽You actually ask him for his number after the fact, suggesting you two do a few more movie nights together, trading off week after week showing each other your favorite movies. Though he is very busy, with all his internships, class work, and studying he usually has to do, he happily finds a way to slide you into his schedule. He treats it as his reward for getting through the week. You'd also go on a lot of coffee shop dates. He knows all the nice quiet spots around campus.

☼Mel☼

☼She is another one who has been planning for college since forever. She has had vision boards for which school she wants to go to, what job she wants to have, understanding the admissions process, what classes she'll need to take at her university of choice to graduate most efficiently, has all been written in a journal since she was in high school

☼She is very organized. I totally see as someone who has all of her class notebooks color coded, definitely uses Midliners, has those nice Pilot G2 pens, the whole nine yards. She was also particular about how her dorm was put together. Her and her roommate coordinated on a color theme, and they have like the dream dorm. They have a big TV, an air fryer, a microwave, a fridge with a freezer, an oil diffuser. Any nice thing you can fit in a dorm is in there

☼She is in like every club ever. Involved in the black student organizations, probably in a sorority (I think she'd be an AKA but that's only because I love them), clubs relating to her political science major, and other fun ones like art clubs, maybe debate club too. She'd also be one of those girls that everyone knows on campus because she's so everywhere. She's the people's princess, that one girl you see everywhere surrounded by friends who looks really nice but you're kinda scared to talk to her.

☼She types really fast. It's something she got really good at back in middle school when she got bored after finishing all her work super early and played a bunch of those typing games until she got really good at typing. Because of this, she is someone who can knock out a paper in like one sitting. I do think she'd need an outline or draft, a notebook by her side containing her notes on her sources and a reminder of the thesis she's arguing, but she could knock it out in less than 2 hours

☼I wouldn't call her a party animal, but I do think she likes to go out. Maybe not to the club but a frat party, one thrown by one of the D9 to be more specific. She brought her car to campus and is usually the designated drivers. She only really drinks fancier alcohol, she's not a beer or cheap vodka fan at all, and that's usually all you can get at parties. She doesn't go to get drunk or hookup with anybody, usually just because she got tired of being an academic weapon all day.

☼She gets a call from her mom usually once a week, usually at the same time, likely because Ambessa has that time schedule out to call her. It's super matter of fact, how are the grades looking, what is she doing in her clubs, has she gotten any internships yet. If she's feeling sappy, she does tell her that she's proud of her. Mel didn't love living with her mom, who put a lot of effort into distancing herself from Mel. She knew that she could handle herself and what she wanted, but she didn't know how she felt about Mel wanting something different out of life than her. Mel thoroughly loves her time away from her mother, but she does look forward to these phone calls.

☼I also think she'd be someone who has a secret pet, but it's just a stray cat that lingers around her building that she fed until it got attached. She does one day scoop it up to the nearest vet to make sure it doesn't have rabies and hides it in the dorm during the winter months to give it shelter from the cold. She doesn't name it because she doesn't want to get attached, especially since there's a likelihood that one day it may never come back to her, but when it starts perking up to the little pet names she's given it, she's already too far gone.

☼She is also someone who is quick to book a study room at the library. She doesn't do that well in her dorm. It's too comfy and her bed is right there, and she sets closer goal posts so that she can justify taking a nap. She's exhausted with all she's doing. Because of this, towards the end of the semester she is on main campus a lot trying to get all these essays done.

☼She is a very active participant in class! I think gen-eds would be pretty women and gender studies and African American studies heavy, with a few econ classes sprinkled in as well. Though she's not going into a math related field, she was always incredibly good at it. She could've majored in either the humanities or STEM and would've always done well. She is unfortunately the annoying person getting 100s on the exams and getting rid of the curve

☼Like Jayce, I think she would also meet you at a party. Being far more introverted than she was, you would hang around in a corner, checking your phone for emails. It was early and the party had yet to pick up, meaning everybody had coagulated in certain spaces on the floor, talking and too scared to dance to the music because there was too much room to be perceived. You obviously knew who she was and looked at her a few times, putting in a lot of effort to avoid her gaze when she notices yours. She would eventually walk over to you, red solo cup filled with water she grabbed from the fridge. She obviously knew who was throwing, knew them well enough to dig through their kitchen for a non-alcoholic beverage.

☼She would make small talk with you, asking if you had ever been to one of these parties before, especially since she hadn't really seen you here before. You two end up talking for hours against the wall, her head resting against the wall, not realizing her pupils dilate as you explain to her the chain of events that got you here, the long day of studying you just had, and damn finals are right around the corner and you just needed a break. Earlier than she would typically leave, she gets tired of the noise obscuring your voice and offers to drive you around for a bit. You two end up sitting in a McDonalds parking lot talking over an abandoned pack of medium fries. You two exchange numbers and talk like all the time before she asks you on a for real date.

☼Though you feel a tad bad about it, she loves being your chauffer. You wanna go on a 3 a.m run to some chicken place; she is already on the way as soon as you send the text. She's very quick to do a quick drive by to pick you up so she can show you off at a party. Also, though she can throw it, she prefers to catch it.

☼She is the perfect study buddy. She prefers studying with flashcards and pops a little Ferrero Rocher for every 20 terms she gets correct. With you there, it's even better. She gets a kiss for every right answer which is like infinitely better.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #arcane x you #ekko arcane #ekko x reader #jayce arcane #jayce x reader #mel arcane #mel x reader #vi arcane #vi x reader #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane headcanon

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gothamhappiness · 6 months ago

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Don't hurt Red Hood, Batman! (Jason Todd x f!reader - Part 1)

Warnings: no proof reading, language, Batman is mean, mentions of fighting and wounds, reader got some nerves and aimed at Batman

You were living on Red Hood territory.

Actually you stayed in Gotham thanks to him. You felt safe thanks to him. Yes, he was the new crime lord in town, but women and children were off limit. Innocent people were off limit.

You knew Red Hood killed people but he killed bad people and kept innocent civilians safe. You weren’t for the killing, of course not. And yet you were grateful for what Red Hood was doing, for people like you. You weren't afraid to walk at night anymore.

The first time you saw Red Hood, he was arguing with Batman and Nightwing. Actually, Batman was fighting with Red Hood and Nightwing was in the middle, trying to stop them.

You didn’t really think before grabbing the small gun you had in your bag. And you were clearly out of your mind when you aimed at Batman.

"Leave him alone!" You screamed

The three men froze. You didn’t really think you would hurt anyone, you just felt better having a gun in your hand to face the dark knight

"Go away" Batman sternly told you and Nightwing moved his head to silently ask you to do the same

"No, you, go away. Leave Red Hood alone."

"What?" The three men muttered

"He is doing good for people like us. You don't give a shit about us, Batman. Go play with Harvey Dent or Oswald Cobleppot, and let Red Hood saves us from Black Mask and his goons." You stubornly replied

"Look..." Nightwing started but you cut him off

"You are both on his territory anyway" you said

"His territory? Wait you are in agreement with this?" Nightwing asked and you nodded instantly

"I live here, Red Hood keeps us safe without asking anything in return. He even feeds children of the street. What did you two do about it? Aren't you supposed to be in Blüdhaven, Nightwing, anyway?" You clearly knew no fear that night

Red Hood had sat down during the exchange, he was hurt but more importantly he was stunned that someone was actually taking his defense.

"He is a criminal" Batman finally said

"So are you" you replied

"He is trying to do justice by taking money from the goons and the prostitution. He is a crime lord, like all the others"

"What don't you understand in "He keeps us safe!". The money is always dirty in Gotham anyways." You justified Red Hood again

The silence following was defeaning. Batman made one step towards Red Hood, and you shot past his ear.

"It's a warning Batman, my mother taught me how to use guns against violent men" you threatened him

"Alright, let's go, Nightwing," Batman groaned. He didn't want to fight with a civilian

You watched them go before looking down at Red Hood, you felt the adrenaline slowly leaving your body and you felt a little bit sick. But aslo very proud of yourself. You smiled at the man who was still sat down on the ground.

"Are you alright? Do you need help with your wounds?" You asked

"What's your name, brave girl?" He asked in return

"Y/N" you said with a slight blush

"Y/N, thank you for making me happy for the first time in a very long time" Red Hood softly whispered to you

"Anything for you, Red" you smiled even more

Part 2

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x s/o #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x s/o #red hood imagine #batman #bruce wayne #nightwing #dick grayson #batfamily #batfam x reader

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mattyriddlesbitch · 9 months ago

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Would you be willing to do Slytherin boys x shy!reader?? If you can, thank yoiuu!!

Yes! Love shy reader with our boys!

Draco Malfoy

I don't think he cares if you're quiet or loud. He just likes you.

Doesn't try to push you into situations you're not comfortable with. Other than maybe something his family is hosting. He is practically pleading for you to go so he isn't lonely.

The type to order for you and talk to workers for you if you feel too shy to do it.

BUT will also tease you with it by saying "My wife wants x." when you guys are still just dating. He thinks it's funny when you get flustered, but won't overdo it.

Will def tease you in private too. If you get shy and blushy about something he does, like taking off his shirt, he's gonna keep doing it.

Tom Riddle

I think he prefers someone quiet and shy. Likes to be able to be with just you and doesn't have to worry about you talking to someone else when you two are out together.

Also wouldn't push you into situations you aren't comfortable with.

I don't think he'd order for you tbh, but will stand up for you. Someone talking shit about you, well...we know how that goes for them.

Wouldn't tease you intentionally, but might do something that makes you flustered and he finds it amusing, but isn't going out of his way to do it.

Would definitely love having private little date nights with you instead of going out somewhere in public where you might feel overwhelmed.

Mattheo Riddle

I covered him in another headcanon BUT

Loves shy girls. He looooooves making them flustered.

Will encourage you to get out of your comfort zone, but isn't gonna force it. He wants you to be happy, but he also thinks some things would be fun with you.

Will order for you and talk to workers for you like Draco. Will also stand up for you. Likes I said in the other one, he's showing up to your dorm covered in blood and a sweet smile.

ABSOLUTELY will tease the shit out of you. He's the worst. Doesn't matter if it's in public or private. Will whisper nasty things to you in public to see you blush. Getting super physical with you in private to make you flustered, like constantly touching you, will strip too, claiming it's for his comfort.

So overprotective of you though, he won't let anyone else tease you.

Blaise Zabini

I feel he prefers someone more extroverted, but does enjoy the power he gets when he makes you all shy.

I feel like he'd have you talk to workers and all that, just so he can see you all flustered. But he will take over if it gets too much for you.

Will also encourage you to get out of your comfort zone, partially for his amusement, but also because he wants you to get more comfortable with things. He can't be there 24/7 to protect you.

Will stand up for you too, but he won't be violent about it. I think worst he'd do is hex them or pull a really nasty prank on them.

Also loves teasing the shit out of you. Shy of PDA? That sucks. He's gonna kiss you and have his hand on your thigh or an arm around your waist. Would definitely point it out too, but only in private.

"No need to be shy around me, ma." "It's just us."

Lorenzo Berkshire

Doesn't care about you being shy or extroverted.

Sweet, sweet, sweet boy. Talking to workers, ordering your food, standing up for you, even telling his friends off if they go too far with you.

I do see him getting into a physical fight with someone too over this. A lot of people think he's too sweet, mans is not afraid to fight, especially when it comes to you.

Does encourage you out of your comfort zone every now and again, but overall doesn't push you.

Would only tease you in private. He doesn't want others getting the idea that they can tease you, so he'll keep it private. Minus a few cheeky comments or sly touches when no one's looking.

Theodore Nott

I do feel like he'd prefer someone more extroverted, but, like Blaise, loves how easy it is to get you flustered.

Will stand up for you, even to his friends, BUT refuses to order for you or talk to workers. He wants you to get comfortable doing it yourself.

Will definitely try pushing you out of your comfort zone. He'll be there to comfort and ease you the whole time, but he does want you to do more things you're not used to or comfortable with.

Absolutely teasing you in public. He's not even sorry. Shameless PDA with you, wants to see you blush and stutter.

Will let his friends tease you two, but not just you. Like, let them gag about the PDA and your blush, but if they laugh at you doing something embarrassing, he's MAD.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch

Let me know if you wanna be added!

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reignpage · 2 months ago

Text

Frat Boy!Gojo

Staropramen: drink up

Content: context to part 1 of Modern au!Gojo's smau, just the first picture, wanted to write a little so I thought I'd do this one, not proofread

You pace back and forth in your room. The sky outside is darkening, dulling into dark orange hues, setting your room alight. You sweat, palms growing clammy. Part of your hair is tied up, arranged into some silly, convoluted up-do and your makeup contrasts with the soft curls framing your face. The maids twisted and pulled and plucked until you’re as presentable as possible, but you insisted, practically fought them, to let you do the rest.

So your piercings stay on, eyeliner as thick as ever, and lips painted a dark shade. And the dress hanging on the door? Well, it’s just as black as everything else in your wardrobe.

This dinner’s important. You know that, as do the maids; your parents had been emphasising how every dinner, every engagement, every invite from the Gojos were important, so important, in fact, that preparations had begun hours ago, well before the clock could strike 7pm.

But there’s one person who doesn’t seem to get the memo. Any of them.

One person who has evaded every meeting, every phone call, every email, letter, hell, every fax from your family. And he gets away with it. Every. Time.

“It’s not fair,” you mumble, fidgeting with your lip ring, “I missed one dinner because I was literally sick and no one spoke to me for weeks. But he gets to miss every single one and we can’t say shit?”

A glance at the Sattler table clock by your bed says it’s nearing showtime. The chauffeur must already be running the car, awaiting your family. You’d have to put on that stupid dress and those stupid heels and plaster on a stupid smile, and shake stupid hands and eat stupid food and stupidly wait for someone who’s never going to show up.

And it’ll be your fault.

That’s what the looks they’ll give you will say. Somehow, you’ve messed up this engagement before it could even really begin, because, of course, it’s the girl’s fault that the guy is an irresponsible idiot.

You didn’t want to have to do this. Didn’t want to have to cave first. But you must. So you pick up your phone and send a message to a number you hoped you never would have to contact.

A girl had given it to you earlier in the week.

She seemed familiar, perhaps she’s one of the more popular students, not that you interact with them. God, just the thought sends shivers down your spine. But when you had seen her parting ways with Gojo, your feet took you to her faster than you could even process and she was smiling at you with a look of surprise.

It’d be great to say the surprise was just because she hadn’t expected you to approach her but that would be a lie. She probably wasn’t expecting someone dressed like you to stand before her in broad daylight and not ask for a drop of her blood to offer up to your gods, or whatever else people tend to think about you.

When you asked if you could get Gojo’s number for ‘something important’, she didn’t fight you, she simply smiled more softly and eagerly typed his number into your phone, flashing you a wink before saying she has a lecture on fluid dynamics that she can’t miss. You assumed she was a physics student, not that she really gave you that vibe, but who are you to say anything?

You frown at his replies.

What a dick.

A honk breaks you out of your sudden violent desires to strangle and offer a certain frat president up for sacrifice, and you rush to put the dress on, already feeling the phantom ache in your feet at the thought of wearing insanely tall heels.

You take one last look of your phone and sigh.

This is going to be a long night.

On the other side of the city, however, lays a boy on a king sized bed. He’s shirtless, joggers hanging low on his hips as he glares at his ceiling, willing it to cave in and kill him right there and then.

“Why did you give her my number?”

A girl giggles on the other side of the bed. She’s wearing nothing but his shirt, typing frantically on her phone, most likely texting a certain blond tutor. Then with a sideways glance at the pouting child thumping his fist on the mattress to get her attention, she flicks his forehead with manicured nails.

“Because,” she drags out, “she looked fun. I like her.”

Gojo groans. “You can’t like her. She’s the enemy!”

The girl rolls her eyes with a grin, half entertained by his theatrics and half excitedly waiting for Nanami’s reply. She had just sent a text asking him if he listens to music whilst having his ‘special alone time’, and the three dots dancing on the screen is making her heart skip a beat.

A pillow gets smacked in her face and when it falls down, her view is obstructed by a pointed look. Focus on me and my dilemma or die, is what it says.

What are they talking about again? Oh right.

“She’s not the enemy, Satoru. She’s just like you.”

The white-haired man pouts even harder. He doesn’t want to admit that the thought had already crossed his mind; she’s a pawn in the game just as he is. But he can’t accept her existence. Because to do so would be like accepting his parents plans, accepting that he has so little say in anything that goes on in his life, and ultimately submitting to the terrible fate of being a Gojo.

His friend has returned to her phone, squealing in a way that makes Satoru wince, and he doesn’t want to ask what she’s blushing over. He’d kill her and himself if she shows him a dick pic again.

Then, as if his mood has somehow lightened, he pokes the girl on her shoulder, ignoring the scowl she gives in return, and asks, almost absentmindedly, “Is she pretty? My….fiancée, I mean?”

Gojo doesn’t know her name.

He’s sure someone had told him but anything to do with the word ‘engagement’ makes him blank out, static playing in his head.

A devious smirk creeps up on her face, eyes dazzling with mischief as she looks over at her friend, lying on his stomach now, bright blue eyes twinkling with curiosity. It occurred to her, when he mumbled his question, that he has no idea what she looks like. Satoru is in for one hell of a shock when he finds out that the girl he had been envisioning as the most prissy little future housewife is actually someone he totally would do a double take over.

It’s gonna be so fun to watch this whole thing play out, she thought. But she can’t make it easy for her stupid friend. Never.

So, she returns her focus on her screen, biting her lip at Nanami’s stern ‘behave’ message and dangles the answer in Satoru’s face.

“You know Choso, right? Sukuna’s younger cousin?”

He nods hurriedly, patience running very thin.

But that’s all she’s willing to give.

And Satoru groans, nose crinkling in irritation. Quick as lightning, he snatches her phone from her hands, and sends the most recent picture on her camera roll to the guy he’s been hearing too much about.

“You didn’t…”

Her tone is disbelieving, a horrified expression pulling her features down before she lunges for her phone and shrieks at the picture of her lying on the floor after slipping on olive oil in Gojo’s kitchen. Her face was distorted in a blur and her dress had ridden up to reveal a hot pink g-string.

Nanami’s going to block her.

He’s going to complain to Professor Yaga and it’ll all be over.

Satoru shrugs and heads to his bathroom, using the excuse of needing a shower to cover up the fact that he has every intention of searching up what a certain art student looks like through socials.

Sure, he could search for his fiancee directly, ask one of his assistants to gather a detailed file, but where’s the fun in that?

Through the door, he hears his friend’s panicked voice, desperately trying to rationalise that the reason why her tutor isn’t answering is because he’s busy and not because he’s calling the police on her for sexual harassment.

She really is the dumb to his dumber because if she knew anything about men, then she’d know he’s totally jerking off to that picture. Nerds are more repressed than anyone else, so she’s gonna have to wait a little longer for him to regain sanity.

Under the hot stream, Gojo’s thoughts shift to a different focus, a girl resembling Choso, the brooding artist cousin of Sukuna, the devil spawn.

There’s simply no way he’d ever like someone like that.

It’s impossible.

Right?

#jjk drabble #jjk angst #jjk fluff #Gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk crack #jjk x you #gojo satoru

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eclipseiz · 2 months ago

Text

The Gladiator 18+

pairing- hanno/lucius x fem! oc 1310 words

(♡ synopsis)- general acacius's daughter became intrigued by the violent gladiator she saw perform in the games and just had to meet him. (lucilla is not her mother)

warnings- p in v, dirty talk, fingering

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Sabina Acacius was a strong willed woman that always made sure to get what she wanted. When she saw ‘Hanno’, as they called him in the colosseum she immediately knew she would seek him out when the time was up in the emperor's section.

After the gladiator had beheaded the contestant Geta and Caracalla had chosen she got up from her seat, “Emperors, An entertaining game as usual. I bid you a good night. I must retire to my room for some needed rest.”

Geta only waved the girl off, more focused on relishing in the applause from the people of Rome, making the girl roll her eyes before catching the General's glare in warning, “Father. Lucilla” she nodded, “I will see you back at home."

Sabina didn't waste a moment to rush out of the colosseum and down the busy streets of Rome towards the Gladiators holding cells. When she arrived at the entrance she pulled her hood up and maneuvered around the training fighters to the back corner where Ravi had Hanno sitting to be stitched.

“Quite a deep cut.” she commented, giving Ravi a kind smile.

“M’lady it's been too long.” he smiled back before focusing back on the task at hand. Hanno watched their interaction in silence observing the girl he saw in the emperor's box, sitting next to the man he vowed to kill and his mother.

Sabina pulled her hood down and sat on the bench in front of the men, “You put up a great fight Gladiator. I wanted to come down and greet you personally. You impressed the Emperors.”

“That carries no importance to me.” Hanno grunted out moving his eyes to the wound Ravi prodded with. “Now what's the real reason you're down here. Certainly not to talk of my achievement.”

Sabina smirked at his sass and crossed her legs, “Perhaps it is, you've intrigued me.”

Hanno furrowed his brow, “This isn't a safe place for a lady of your status.” he said plainly, taking a drag of the mixture Ravi gave to him.

Ravi pointed at a rag that sat next to Sabina to which she handed it to him, leaning in more towards Hanno. “I saw the sour looks you threw towards my father. What's the reason for such emotions?” she asked curiously.

A dark look passed over the gladiator's face, “That would be business between the General and I.”

Sabina hummed while Ravi backed up, “You're stitched up Hanno. I suggest you take a bath, you stink of filth.” he chuckled and patted him on the back. “Nice to see you Sabina.” he bid them a goodbye.

Hanno stood as did Sabina, “I'll escort you to the tub.” she smiled at the aggravated look that washed over him. The pair walked side by side in silence before stepping into the large room with the large tub of hot water in the middle. “Well I shall leave you to rid yourself of the remnants from tonight's game.”

“Wont stay to question me anymore?” he raised an eyebrow while unclipping his armor.

Sabina watched as he undressed cheeks heating up, “Not while you are without clothes, no.” she said perplexed and turned her back, “ You'd like to answer my curiosity?” Once she heard the water splashing she turned back to see Hanno sat in the steaming water, head leaned neck with his eyes shut.

“Nothing with the General.” he said before opening his eyes and moving his gaze to hers.

Sabina moved in closer, slipping her sandals off and hiking her dress up. She sat down next to him and dipped her legs into the water. “What were you before all of this?” she watched the bruised man let a sigh out.

“A farmer.” he answered plainly.

She hummed, “Does any family wait for you?”.

Hanno tensed, “My wife was my family. She was killed when your people invaded.”

The girl nodded, “Rome is in a dark time, not even the citizens feel safe.”

“And do you?” he questioned looking at her.

Sabina pondered, “I worry for the innocent Romans who will be caught in the crossfire when the twins' leadership fails.” Hanno chose not to answer and began to wash his arms, careful of the wounds his body had received before standing.

Sabina looked away at the man's naked form, “You can look. You say I intrigued you and it cannot be my soul in which that did.” he looked down at her.

She cautiously turned back and looked at his face before her eyes moved down to his muscular chest littered with scars, cuts, and bruises. She stood and moved in front of him reaching out and traced a jagged white line that sat on his right pec. Hanno said nothing and instead looked at her features and the way her eyebrows furrowed with every wound she felt.

Sabina’s eyes lingered on his abs before moving down to his half hard cock between them. She had been with one man before and he had been nowhere close to the size Hanno was, “I should return to my chambers.” yet she made no move to leave.

“Perhaps.” he whispered moving his hands to her waist

Sabina didn't waste a moment before crashing her lips into his chapped ones, hands moving to his shoulders and around his neck. His hands gripped her harder, lifting her up with ease and setting her up onto the counter behind her. Hanno stood between her open legs exploring her mouth with his tongue, driven with frustration and desperation.

He gripped the bottom of her dress and tapped her hips in order for her to lift them so he could punch her dress to her waist. “Are you sure you want this Sabina?” he asked breathlessly. Although he hated the girls father he had to admit something about the girl made him addicted

“I've wanted this since I saw you in the games, please Hanno.” and with that he returned to her lips and brushed his fingers agaisnt her soaking pussy. She moaned into his mouth and gripped the hair at the nape of his neck.

Pushing one finger into her he circled her clit with his thumb. Relishing in the way she tightened her walls. “Feel how wet I make your cunt?” He whispered between her swollen lips.

Sabina whimpered, “Please-more Hanno, please give me more.” she moaned out

He pushed another finger in and curled them up in her g-spot and sped his pace on her clit bringing her to the cusp of an orgasm before pulling away leaving the girl a gasping mess, “No-why?” said asked

Hanno gripped the base of his cock and lined it up to her entrance before leaning down to her forehead, “When I get you to cum I want it to be around my cock.” he said before pushing up into her all the way to the hilt. Sabina moaned, gripping his back, adding more cuts with her nails, “You're taking me so well my beautiful girl.” he gritted out while thrusting into her at a fast pace.

“Cum with me, my gladiator.” Sabina gasped out.

Hanno worked his hips into her, tip hitting her cervix, “Let go.” he commanded and that all she needed to hear before an orgasm washed over her, Hanno followed burying his hips deep into hers.

The pair caught their breath before separating, Sabina pulling her dress down and feeling a mixture of their cum leaking out of her while Hanno pulled a uniform over his head.

“I shall see you at the colosseum in coming days.” She combed her hair out and moved towards the exit but he caught her wrist and pulled her back to him.

“I ask of you to pay me a visit after the game, that is if I survive.” he smirked

Sabina smiled and nodded, “If that is what you want my gladiator.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Part Two

like and reblog ♡

#gladiator 2 smut #gladiator smut #lucius verus fic #lucius verus smut #lucius verus #Hanno smut #hanno x fem oc #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #hanno #Spotify #paul mescal #gladiator movie #gladiator #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #marcus acacius #lucius versus x fem oc

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darlingdreadwrites · 4 months ago

Note

I read your Toby fics, and I really love your writing:D

I see your open with requests and I wanted to ask a Toby x final girl reader?

They just kept fighting against him, and he somehow gained a crush on the person he is supposed to kill? It's fine if you don't ;D

I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I SQUEALED WHEN I READ IT!! i hope i do right by you, my lovely anon.

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl F!Reader

part: 1, 2

summary: Toby thought you'd be an easy target since you were just a girl. He should've gone with the easy kill when he had the chance.

contains: getting chased by a man wielding two hatchets, slight pov switches but it's still in second person, idk what else to put

warning: violence, gore (more like imagery is gore-y), MEAN TOBY, reader gets hurt, toby gets hurt, me not knowing how to write fight/tense scenes and the logistics that go with them, barely any talking cuz i think toby would be too embarrassed by his stutter

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a.n: when i read final girl in the request, i pictured reader wearing those outfits that female japanese horror game protags wear (picture fatal frame). i’m gonna keep the end ambiguous for you because my freak brain wants it all to work out perfectly for them, but the other part of my brain wants to keep it realistic cuz there’s no way in HELL i’d let someone forcing me to run live. if you want me to continue where i left off i’d be so glad to (and you can pick whichever type of “route” you want). ENJOY!!

The cool, night air gave you chills all over as your feet pounded against the soft forest floor under your feet. With every quick step you took, another short burst of breath escaped your lips. It felt like you were being pushed back by a sudden gust of wind, but the trees continued to look blurry in the corners in your eyes, and that was a good thing. You kept your pace – even if it felt like the breeze kept poking needles into the cuts on your skin.

You had decided to actually dress up today but stayed mindful enough for the fall weather. So, you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe next time you decide you want to get attacked by some psycho swinging hatchets; you’ll be a little more fucking prepared.

The whistling of said hatchet reminds you of why you were running. The sound of his weapon whirred by as it lodges itself deep into the bark of a tree. It’s already behind you as your mind yelled at your body to keep up. His other hatchet thwacks into a tree too close to your head and you scream involuntarily. You stumble to a stop stupidly, stabilize yourself, and drag your body to pivot and sprint to the right.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. But - as much as your lungs burned - that buzz that came from fighting for your life nagged at you like a bitch. You don’t care how much your body hurts because you will deal with the consequences later.

You’re not going to let yourself die.

Toby grunted as frustration and anger seethed in his veins. Wrapping his hands around the handle of his hatchet, he kept his eyes trained on you as he struggled to pull the thing free. He’d all but forgotten that the other one was a few feet away. He wasn’t normally fond of losing his favorite toys. He wouldn’t lose you either.

You were a stupid, stupid girl, after all.

His head violently twitched to the side compulsorily when he finally dislodged his weapon. A few wood chips flew out and landed on the muddy leaves below. He stood there, taking and letting out deep breaths.

He thinks about what might be going through your mind as you keep running. Maybe about how you were gonna get out of here, call the pigs, and have some nurse tend to the wounds he gave you. He smiled and tightened his grip on his hatchet as he fantasized about your naïve hope. He knew these woods like the back of his hand.

You wouldn’t make it out of here in one piece.

You slow down as the structure of a house comes into view. It fits the eerie atmosphere perfectly – chipping paint, broken windows. You’re not here to admire the neglected building, though, and you stomp up the small steps. The door lets out a low groan as you practically shove it open using your shoulder.

Slamming it behind you, your head whips around for the exit or some type of weapon. In the distance, you can hear the shrill whistle of the man outside, an involuntary thing, you’ve noticed. Just how long have you been fighting this freak? Enough to learn his quirks, that’s for sure.

Delving deeper into the house with hurried steps, you look around for a kitchen. Find a weapon, find a weapon, you repeat to yourself, the sound of your quick gasps filling your ears. You catch yourself on the doorway when you almost rush past it.

You barely stepped foot into the room before crying out when you felt something make impact with your back. The dull, heavy pressure sends painful shockwaves through you. Having the wind knocked out of you, the muscles in your back spasm and you buckle forward. He shoves you, and you wheeze as the edge of the rusted stove in front of you digs painfully into your stomach.

Your eyes immediately land on a cast iron skillet, and you think you have less than three seconds. You smash the pan against the side of his head, your grunt and the metal clang the only sounds in the room. You were confused as to why he wasn’t yelling out in pain. But your arms jerked upward, the heavy iron bludgeoning into his chin and he stumbles back.

Toby can hear the ringing in his ears with each blow to his head, his world spinning for far too long than he would’ve liked. He snarls and grabs your arm, throwing you in the direction of a wall hard - causing you to drop your makeshift weapon.

He looks at you, at how your legs shake as you try to steady the world around you. Look at you - you looked like a fawn. With your wide eyes and trembling form. Guess he’ll be your coyote, right? He’d sink his teeth into the side of your neck and stain his maw with your crimson flood. You were just pretty enough that he couldn’t wait to watch your eyes roll back when he greedily kept the air from inflating your lungs.

No, but you weren’t a fawn, were you? He’d seen more fight in you than any of the losers he was tasked to kill. They sobbed – they fucking begged on their hands and knees – to keep him from tearing them limb by limb. You were stronger than he thought you’d be, but you weren’t as agile as he was, he thought.

His face stretched as another wide, sinister grin spread across his face. His gloved hand tightened around the hatchet’s handle. He could hear the leather creak if he focused on anything other than your breathing.

You duck and stumble out of the way as you hear the spitting of wood above your head. He yells out a loud “fuck!” and attempts to yank the weapon free. You run out of the room and almost collide with another wall. You pivot on your heel because there was no way you’d run away from the front--

Gasping, you caught your balance before you could fall through the gaping hole on the floor. No time to jump, you told yourself, and you spun once again. Sprinting down the hall, you were met with the door to a room rather than any kind of exit.

You’d remember to set this house on fire when you made it out alive.

The room stunk of decaying carcasses and a thick powdery smell – the former outperforming the latter. You make your way to a second door and find yourself in a bathroom. You think there’s nothing here heavy enough to hurt him until your eyes land on a towel rod that hung loosely from the wall.

With a determined tug it comes out and you know he heard it. You can tell by the way you hear his heavy boots scramble in the direction of the room. You take a deep gulp of air and press your back against the wall next to the door.

The air was heavy with tension as the door creaked open. His shadowy figure stretched on the floor, and he walked right in. Would he turn around? Would he sense where you were before it was too late?

While he twisted around, you slam the rod into the side of his head. He’s disoriented for a moment, his head rolling to the side. Before he could react, you lifted your right leg, and the bottom of your shoe made contact with his stomach – sending him hurtling back.

Toby lets out a groan as he loses his balance and falls into a tub. His limbs sprawl out, legs and arms dangling from the sides. He attempts to move when a raw, guttural scream that causes his chest to tighten makes him stop. His eyes dilate as he stares at you wildly. Something about your scream has shaken him to his core. His head was still dizzy and a little numb from the force of your hit. And yet he couldn’t help but admire your resilience. He should be livid – breaking all your fingers and pulling your pretty little teeth out of your mouth one by one.

The man’s tics overtook him, his eyelids squeezed shut with a sudden intensity. He opens them again, and you’re still rooted in the same spot – breathing heavily. He’d never seen a girl look as hot as you did right now. He didn’t think that was even possible in your state. Your clothes, hair, and face were caked in mud and blood from your gashes. A girl like you should’ve been screaming in pain and crying for her mommy. But you stared at him with a burning defiance that caused his heart to pound violently against his chest.

His hatchet lay at your feet, and he realized that you had gotten him. You won. He could try attacking you again – he was bigger than you – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He can’t fight back anymore; he just stares in what he can only assume is awe. Years of taking lives and witnessing more gore than anyone ever should, could not have prepared him for this moment. You didn’t stop – you just couldn’t. It was… admirable. Beautiful, even, if he was a more sentimental person.

You piqued his curiosity like nobody had ever done before. He wanted to know what made you tick. He wanted to study every movement, sound, and judgement you’d ever make. You could break all the bones in his body, and he’d come running back to watch you do it again when the Operator put him together again.

You astonished him.

So, what’ll you do now?

#ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x female reader #tobias erin rogers #toby rogers x reader #creepypasta fanfiction #fanfiction #creepypasta x reader #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #female y/n #reader insert #creepypasta ticci toby #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #final girl

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