#this is me saying this opened my eyes to how abusers think and that seeing it laod out so clearly helps me understand how to spot it in

[murdockcastleslut]

meddle about

an outerbanks band au! | a jj maybank and rafe cameron smau

synopsis: after competing and winning the battle of the bands, the sirens were offered a record deal, launching them into stardom. when they are about to go on their first world tour, the band is faced with the decision of who they will open for them. they choose the swell, their runner-up in the battle of bands two years prior. with a rocky past with some members of the swell, y/n, the leader singer of the sirens, must tread carefully not cause anymore problems during this choatic tour.

intros | prologue | part one

tw: mentions of depression, anxiety, adhd, addiction, child abuse (emotionally and mentally), alcohol, weed, cocaine, homophobia, and sex.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: finals week kicked my ass but we slay and i put out a new chapter of something finally

thursday, august 15th, 2024

You took one last puff from your cigarette before throwing it down to the ground and smothering it with your sneaker. You let out a loud sigh before grabbing the handle of the door and walking back into the first stop of The Lie to Girls Tour. 

As you walk in you notice how the venue has come to life with roadies sending everything up for later that night. You start walking towards your dressing room when someone calls out your name. 

You turn my head and see Ward Cameron making a B-line for me. You roll my eyes and stop in front of him. 

“What do you want, Ward?” You ask the manager of The Swell and Sarah’s father. 

He gives you a sneer and folds his arms to assert dominance over you. 

“Where is Sarah?” He asks with a stern look on his face. 

I let out a chuckle. 

“I don’t know where she is, Ward, but I can be damn sure she doesn’t wanna talk to you.” You say before walking away from the older man. 

You walk towards your dressing room and look around yourself diligently hoping you don’t see him. You make it to your dressing room and open the door to see Sarah getting her hair done by the band’s hair stylist, Aubree, and Cleo getting her make-up done by the band’s make-up artist, Kimora. You walk in, letting the door close behind you, and go straight for the couch that Kie is sitting on and lay your head on her lap.

“Your dad’s a dick, Sarah,” I say with my eyes closed enjoying the atmosphere of the room. Kite lets out a muted snort. 

“I know he is, but what did he do now?” She asks, twisting to look behind her at you on the couch. 

“Nothin, just asked where you were. But I guess he didn’t even bother to look because anyone else could have told him that you were here.” 

“Did you tell him where I was ?”

“Fuck no, that would mean I would have to spend five minutes walking with him here. I would rather spend the night in whatever torture chamber Satan's got prepared for that man.” 

The whole room laughs but you. You weren’t joking, you were serious. 

“How’d you even bump into him girlie?” Cleo asks? 

“Went for a smoke out on the side.” You reply nonchalantly. 

Everyone in the room this time groans. 

“I don’t like this judgment I’m getting from everyone. I hardly smoke cigs anymore! We are Texas and I’m not tryna get arrested before we have even gotten on stage.” I defend. 

“I guess that’s acceptable,” Kie says, tapping your nose. 

You scrunch your face at her. 

“So how are you girls feeling? The first night of your basically sold-out tour.” Aubree asks as she finishes the final curls on Sarah’s hair. 

“So excited, man. I have a good feeling about tonight.” Cleo smiles. 

“Oh my god, knock on wood right now, Cleo! You’re gonna jinx us!” You exclaim sitting up from Kie’s lap. 

“I don't think it’s…”

“I swear to god, you better knock.” 

Cleo doesn’t say anything but rolls her eyes and knocks on the ledge of the vanity in front of her. 

Kie looks at you and sighs. 

“Babe I mean this in the nicest way possible, did you take your meds today?” She questions. 

“Yes, I did.” You roll your eyes at her question. 

“So excited and nervous.” Aubree takes it away. 

“She’s just nervous about interacting with JJ.” Sarah spills.

“What the fuck! No, I am not! I could care less what the dipshit thinks.” You refute. 

Just as you finish, the band stylist, Jess, walks into the dressing room holding everyone’s outfit. 

“So you didn’t text me saying you literally have to look sexier than sexy this whole tour to show JJ he’s an idiot.” Jess chimes in.

You let out a loud groan. 

“Damn it, Jess. You just fucked my whole I don’t care vibe.” You whine. 

Everyone lets out a chuckle at your reaction. 

“Well, I’ll have you know that the outfit I picked up is killer.” Jess smiles. 

“Lemme see!” You sit up excited like a child at Christmas. 

She puts all the outfits on the rack and pulls out yours. 

Everyone in the room, oohs and ahhs. 

“Oh Jess, you are a magic baby!” You laugh. 

She smiles and shakes her head and walks over to you to give you the hanger. 

“Get changed, I wanna see how it looks on you.” She demands. 

“Yes, ma’am.” You smile and get up off the couch. You go behind the divider and get undressed and put on the outfit that she had chosen for you. 

You get changed into a faux leather corset and a black faux leather skirt. 

When you step out from behind the divider, everyone in the room whoops and whistles. 

“Get in my chair now,” Aubree exclaims. “I have the best idea.” 

You giggle and nod excited to see what she had in store for your hair. As Aubree works on your hair, Kimora starts on your make-up. 

The room is filled with laughter, music, and singing. Aubree is done with your hair pulled into a slick back 90’s spiky bun when there’s a knock on the door. She gives your hair one more spritz of hairspray before going to grab the door. 

When she opens the door, the once loud and obvious room is now dead silent. JJ Maybank is standing in front of the door. 

He looks around uneasily and then looks at you. He is in awe of the way you look. 

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Aubree sneers at him in an unkind tone. 

“Uh-uh i-uh..” He keeps staring at you. 

“Yo pervert, either say something or get out.” Kimora scolds him.

“Yeah- uh sorry,” he keeps his eyes on you. “Ward sent me to get you, says Minerva is looking for you.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. What the fuck? You think to yourself. 

“Anything else?” Kimora questions, their tone suggesting he’d leave. 

“He said I had to walk you there…” He hesitates. 

“She’ll be out in a minute.” She says before shutting the door in his face.

You turn to the other girls with your eyes widened in confusion. They all shrug at you not knowing what is going on. You look at Sarah and mouth Your dad’s a dick. She sighs heavily and nods. 

You look around the floor and put on your Doc Martens. 

“Fucking bastard.” You mumble to yourself about Ward before opening the door. 

You look at JJ with a sneer and wait for him to lead you to Minnie. 

“So uh- I’m…” He stutters out and you cut him off with a glare. 

The rest of the way to Minnie was silent. He did not try to utter another word to you. 

When you find her, she is surrounded by roadies asking her questions about the final touches on the venue. 

When she sees you and JJ together she gives you a strained smile. She knows that this is not a situation you want to be in. 

“Thank you, Jackson. You can leave us.” She says coldly and wraps her arm around your shoulder. You giggle when she calls him his legal name and wrap your arm around her waist. 

“You look like a good kid, everyone did you up real pretty.” She smiles down at you. 

“They did, this team might be my favorite.” You smile up at her. 

“Good, good…” She says as the two of you walk. “I gotta ask you a favor and I know you don’t wanna do it but Ward Cameron is up my ass and if I know if we make a fuss, which I want to, things will get leaked to the press and none of you kids need that right now.” 

“What do you need, Minnie?” You furrow your brow. 

“I need you, specifically, to sing a song with one of the members of The Swell. Ward wants it to be JJ for publicity to say there is no bad blood between the two of you, but he can kiss my ass. That is up to you to forgive him and only you, hun.” 

“Jesus Min, this man is gonna be a pain in our asses all tour isn’t he?”

Minnie nods and that is all you need to know that it is going to be a long tour. 

“Alright, I’ll do it. And I’m choosing the song.” You say. 

“Sounds good to me. Break a leg, you’re gonna kill out there.” She offers a kind smile before reaching five steps away from you and she is surrounded by people who need to ask her questions. 

You turn around and go back towards the dressing rooms. You look around looking for the name you need. You go up to the door and knock. 

The door opens and you have a smirk up at him. 

“How would you like to piss off your dad tonight.” You ask. 

He doesn’t respond with words but instead, a sly smirk spreads across his face and he opens the door wider so that you can step inside. 

—

The crowd was electric tonight. Even though most of The Swell’s songs were unknown to the crowd, they enjoyed it very much and it definitely helped that all the members were attractive. 

You stand backstage getting mixed up as you watch from the sidelines. As the last song comes to an end JJ goes up to the middle mic. 

“How’d y’all like that one?” He asks the crowd. They cheer and scream to show their enthusiasm. 

“Good, good,” He chuckles into the mic. “Now I’m gonna hand this over to Rafe.” 

Rafe is up from his drum set and someone is already taking his place. He runs up and daps up JJ before taking his place in front of the mic. 

“Now, if you’re a fan of The Swell, you’ll know I don’t sing up in the front often but I wanted to treat y’all for the first show. And as for something extra special, I have a guest. But your hands together for Y/N L/N of The Sirens, everybody!” He exclaims. 

The crowd goes while as your name is said and you step out on the stage. You give the band members a wave except JJ and head on over to Rafe. 

“Hey, everyone, are these guys treating you well?” You ask into the mic. The crowd cheers in response. You smile seeing everyone enjoying themselves. 

“I'm glad, so I have a question,” You look at the crowd. “Do y’all know Perfect by One Direction?” 

The crowd erupts in total chaos. 

“Seems like they know it, pretty girl.” Rafe flirts. You give him a smirk and move in closer. 

“Seems like it, so y’all are gonna sing along with us?” The crowd erupts once again in cheers. “Alright let’s do it.” You smile at the crowd. 

The music starts playing and you sway your body to the music coming from your ears. Rafe brings the mic to his lips and winks at you before he sings. 

“I might never be your knight in shining' armor, I might never be the home you take home to Mother,” He sings to the audience. “And I might never be the one who brings you flowers,” He turns to you while pointing at himself and sings “I can be the one, be the one tonight.” 

The crowd screams loving the chemistry the two of you are displaying 

“ When I first saw you from across the room I could tell that you were curious,” You sing, looking up at him and checking him out. 

“Oh, yeah,” The whole band harmonizes with you. 

“Boy, I hope you’re sure what you’re looking for ‘cause I’m not good at making promises” You riff. 

You and the whole band sing the chorus. But as you sing your eyes are locked on Rafe and his eyes are locked with yours. 

When everyone gets to the line, “If you like to do the things we shouldn’t do,” you and Rafe are close. He has one hand on the mic and the other on your waist. You have two arms around his shoulders sharing the mic he was sharing. His gaze is locked with yours not daring to look away. 

For the rest of the song the two of you are never less than a foot apart and when you are close one of you is touching the other. It was like you were the only people on stage even though you were performing in front of thousands.

Although you never looked away from the audience or Rafe, the one thing you could feel was JJ’s burning jealous gaze on your back. 

after the concert...

taglist: @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 @arkofblake @eddsthemunson @zyafics @papercranesandinkstains @jjslaybank @isnt-itstrange @ayy1234567 @upsidedownjill @mads-writes-vibes @shincidios @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @mattslutiolo @xoxo-ada @mariamsdison6-blog @eternallovers65 @smootbrainchicken @starsval @writer-who-rarely-writes @whorelaud @ame1le @me-ig1 @marleymarleymarleymarley @cassiewritessalot @everinlove @robinsgrl

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 108: Fear

Don't get me wrong, that panel with Twilight remembering his friends was beautiful. I think he feels nostalgic for that connection with other people. However, I think what really caught my attention in this chapter was Melinda.

Come on, look at this:

Look at this face of terror. And she was just remembering her husband's eyes!

A long time ago, when we just met Melinda, I wrote this theory about her being afraid of her husband. Today, it was finally confirmed.

I feel so sad for her. Melinda has probably been carrying this alone for a long time. I doubt she's shared her fears with any friends or family members because, who would believe the illustrious political leader could be an abusive man? This is especially true if there's no actual physical violence in the relationship. However, like I said before, violence is more than that.

Something tells me that the violence in their relationship is mostly psychological. Donovan Desmond uses his authority to tell Melinda what to do, to create fear, to keep her away from their children.

Melinda appears as such a composed woman who has her life together in front of others, and only someone as emotionally perceptive and caring as Yor would notice something is wrong. There's a shame component in abusive relationships: "How did this happen to me? I used to be so strong and brave," combined with disbelief: "Am I overreacting? Is he really that bad? Why am I afraid of him if he hasn't really done anything to me?"

Hopefully, in time, Melinda will realize that fear is not only her responsibility; even if her husband wasn't physically abusive, his behavior caused her fear.

Without a doubt is a complicated issue, which brings me to something that will probably complicate things even more:

Yup, Twilight.

I'll admit that this is the first time that I felt very uncomfortable with what Twilight is about to do, but that's exactly the point. Good fiction/literature is suppose to move something within us, even if at times, it makes us feel uncomfortable.

You probably imagine why: Melinda is a person in dire need of therapy. She deserves (and needs!) a true professional and instead, she getting someone who is only trying to gather information.

HOWEVER...

Time and again, Twilight has shown that despite his line of work, he'll always try to do the right thing and the least amount of harm. So, I'm hoping he will apply that in this specific situation. My guess is that it will start as a way to get information (his classic "for the mission") but then, as Melinda opens up, he will actually give her good advice and hopefully empower her, as a real therapist would do!

Something else to keep in mind is that Melinda story of domestic violence could trigger Twilight himself in some way, given his own family history. We will have to wait to see how that goes.

Bonus

A final note on Melinda's beliefs in occultism: it makes sense.

I won't comment too much on the specific meaning of the cards because my knowledge is limited and I'm skeptical about that. But I will say that it makes sense that someone with so much fear and uncertainty in her life would believe in something that would bring her reassurance that everything will be okay or try to know the future in order to protect herself. (I really want to give Melinda a hug.)

On the other hand, you know who doesn't believe in that?:

Yup, our dear Becky, who is one of the most authentic character in sxf, who is protected and loved by her parents and Martha. That makes sense too.

[mattsfootcramp]

'Its Just a Bell' M.S series

warnings: strong use of language, suggestive, mentions of abuse

(if you know anyone struggling with abuse please tell someone right the fuck away)

Summary: After the night the triplets arrived, y/n searched them up.. and then she fully. met matt

I walked down to my dad who was getting ready to go to our house for the night.. always leaving me in charge.

I grabbed the keys from his hand as he walked into his old ford truck that that sat in the middle of the parking lot.

As he drove off i grabbed my phone and type out 'Sturniolo Triplets' on to google.

What popped up shocked the hell out of me 7.28 million subscribers?!

Jesus Christ and they could afford a decent hotel?

Because my shift was the whole 12 hour night i decided to grab a chair and turn on a video.

Throughout the video there was some sort of connection towards matt, his smile, his hair, his jokes, his lips, his eyes, his tattoos..

Now although i had no idea who they were before this i felt like i knew them my whole life after i watched 2 videos..

Until i hear a grunt behind me.

I quickly shut my phone off and look behind me.

Matt. Sturniolo.

"uhm hi?" I quickly look around to see if his brothers are with him surprised their not.

"I couldn't sleep so i was wondering if you guys at least had coffee" He says walking more into the main building.

"its only for the employees but.. i mean i can make you one.." Although it was completely against the rules that didn't stop me from breaking them.

I mean for this hot ass guy id do anything. fucking. anything.

"really? you sure its no problem?" He replies.

"its literally just me brewing it.. i got you.." My accent deceives me.

I walk to the back and signal for him to follow me. I grab a coffee pod and place into the coffee maker.

"you know.. your nice. one of the nicest hotel workers iv meet" He draws an imaginary shape on the counter where stuff is stored.

"Its my accent. it portrays my personality differently. no one can take me seriously with it," i complain. sitting on the counter.

"hope you know its gonna take awhile. this coffee maker is older then the building." Making him laugh.

God his laugh.. the way he just smiles.. makes me think of how he would pound int- y/n no he's a customer.

"so im gonna assume you have a boyfriend?" He goes into a little serious emotion.

"what makes you assume that?" I smirks.

"i mean your like really ho- i mean- shit i didn't mean to like.. fuck i messed up" he covers his face in embarrassment

"Bold.. i like it. and no.. i don't have a boyfriend." I get off the counter ass the coffee maker comes to a stop.

"wait really? wait how old are you?" he makes a curious expression

"18.. about to turn 19 in like.. 5 days?" i grabs a few creams a sugars for him.

"wait your shitting me." he looks almost happy now that he knows my age

"nope!" i say with that fake ass smile.

"i probably should of lead with that question before anything.." he makes a little smile.

"yeah probably." I laugh a little with him.

"god I'm heading to fucking Texas tomorrow.. or in two days.. i don't really know" he sighs and leans his head on the wall

2 days?! how am i supposed to make a connection in 2 days?!

"so your an influencer.." I bites my lip gently. him taking notice.

He stands up straight and gently walks to me

"yeah.. you like that huh?" He squints his eyes with a little smirk.

He puts both his arms on either side of me trapping me into the counter.

"i-.. uh.." I got so flustered.. fuck. I'm blushing to hard at this.

"well? gonna answer m-" He gets cut off by the bell signaling that the door opened.

"you uhm wait right her ill be back" I walk out and see my dad frantically looking for something

"uhm? what are you looking for?" i cross my arms at the front desk

"my lighter. have you seen it" he looks up at me with that look. the look of drunkenness.

"no.. dad.." i go quiet. not wanting to make him mad. especially when matt is in the back of this building.

"god your fucking useless. fuck. i bet you fucking took it because you so mother fucking greedy." he yells at me. making me flinch. making him scoff and leave.

At least he didn't hit me that time.

I walk back into the back. matt has a look of concern.

"what just happened" he questions once im in view or him.

"you should.. you should go before he comes back.. I'm fine though thanks." I look down at the floor the whole time

"Can i.. give you a hug?" he walks a little forwards

I nod and he closes the gap between us and wraps his arms around me. and in this moment i feel the safest iv ever felt around a man in my whole life. i felt hope about everything. makes me feel like a little kid on Christmas with her little barbie truck. Jesus Christ i might fall for him.

a/n: thank all of you guys for being sooo patient with me❤️❤️ luv you guys soo much

Taglist:

@iluvjakeyy @spicybabysworld @monroesturnns @sturniolo-fann @bernardsbendystraws @hysteria-things @ashlishes

[residencyisstrange]

mouthwashing is one of those important pieces of media to me because it opens my eyes to different topics and perspectives

[gu6chan]

Sometimes I think about my very short-lived experience watching Happy Sugar Life and how the only real potent "message" i got from it was through the fanbase with the realisation "wow okay so we are NOT past the 'women can't be paedophiles' narrative huh" because i remember so gleefully checking the comments only to be hit with shit like "they didn't have sex so i don't think it's paedophilia" or "given her past i don't think she INTENDED paedophilia" or the time i saw an rp blog for the mc like "I interpret it as platonic :)))" like mc wasn't dressing an 8 year old up in a wedding dress, grooming her, doing vows, kissing her on the mouth and making plans for how they'd elope and marry each other

Like okay, you're entitled to your interpretations ofc but at what point does it stop being an interpretation and start turning into cope because this is NOT the topic you want to do that with!!!!!!

[s0dium]

Creep

Warnings: Creepy/stalker behavior, breeding kink, pussydrunk behavior, cumflation, stomach bulge, subspace, premature ejaculation, orgasms

~

You know it's wrong, so wrong to enjoy the attention of a creep.

At least, that's what people call him. But through the snickers and sidelong glances that surround him, there's something about him that intrigues you, attracts you, something you can't seem to get out of your head.

It starts off small, letting him eye you from across the room and flashing him a small smile. Then you notice he starts to get bolder, more confident in his advances. As the days pass, his presence becomes a constant in your routine. He waits for you after class, catches you alone in elevators, leans in closer during conversations, and even starts to find excuses to touch your arm or shoulder. Each interaction feels like a challenge, a test of boundaries that seems he's all too willing to push.

In the beginning, you almost listen to the unease flickering in the back of your mind, warning that maybe you are playing with fire. But as the tension builds, you find your resolve slowly melting, small touches on your arm turn grazes against your ass and the quick glances evolve into him blatantly checking you out.

So only you can be blamed for the situation you're in right now. Only you can be blamed for letting it get like this.

His hips snapped so fast you can't think, you can breathe. Pleasure courses through your body in electric flesh arrows and you could feel your pussy clench around his length in a futile attempt to adjust for his massive size. How could a creep like him be so big? Jesus, you could feel his mushroom tip press against your cervix every time he slammed into you. Countless loads of cum dripped from where you two were connected onto the white sheets below. At any given time he'd blow his load right into you and without much of a stutter fuck the liquid back into you, until he reached his high again and started the cycle over again.

"Mine," he grunts out, his breath hot against your cheek from the brutal mating press he has you in. The bed shook with every thrust, the head board banging against the wall from the way your cervix was getting absolutely abused. The friction, the way he filled you up so perfectly, his hot skin against yours, it was too much, too overwhelming, and your brain couldn't handle the pleasure. You could feel the euphoria absorb your body, making your toes curl and uncurl from the sheer pleasure.

"G-gonna cum in you again" He says through a moan, peppering kissed along your jaw. "Gonna fill you up, make you feel so so good." He doesn’t slow his movement, instead picking up one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder so he can reach even deeper. He places his other hand on your belly, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

"You feel me?" He coos, pressing down on your stomach, intensifying the pressure of his cock inside you and making your moans grow even louder.

"I can feel you, I can feel you squeezing me, feel so good, better than my fist." He chuckles and grabs your throat, squeezing it so your brain goes fuzzy with the slight light of oxygen.

His breathing becomes jagged and with a soft whimper followed by a silent "oh-fu", he blows his load into your battered pussy. There is no warning when cums into you, only the slight stutter of his hips that does nothing to deter his brutal pace. You are soaked down there, his sticky cum leaking out of you as he pushes into you over and over again. But you couldn't be bothered to look right now, you couldn’t open your eyes and ignore the colors you were seeing behind your eyelids. Everything was good - so, so, so good. Your skin was buzzing, mind cloudy, and the only thing you could focus on was the throbbing that was taking over your body.

"You gonna cum?" He coos into your ear, punctuating his words with an extra sharp thrust. "Cum for me, please." 

As if on cue, you gasp, and let your orgasm wash over you. He doesn't stop his movements, instead, he fucks you through your orgasm until your crying for him to stop.

"Not gonna stop, gonna fuck you until m' shooting blanks okay?"

SHIGARAKI, YUUTA OKKATSU, L LAWLIET, SHINSO, KENMA, GYUTARO

[mattsfavoritestar]

SMILE! YOU'RE ON CAMERA, chris + matt

synopsis… (based on this ask)

warnings… mean!toxic!matt, mean!toxic!chris, mentions of established relationship, cheating, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), sextape, degradation, oral (m receiving), face fucking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, edging, chris has a dacryphilla kink

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

“fuck chris look at her take me so well” matt groans with his torturous slow thrust. he was so deep inside and the stretch burned so good. you were holding on to a pillow, stuffing your face to hide trying to muffle both your sobs and moans.

you felt so exposed and embarrassed with both matt and chris just watching you. your legs were locked around matt’s waist. he held you in place by your waist, refusing to let you go any faster or even attempt to run away from him. he was going at a just enough speed to where it’s barely brushing your orgasm. he was edging you on purpose.

you heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter from chris’s direction. “think i should record it? send it to that fucker?” chris asked completely ignoring your existence. matt nods with his mouth hanging open, he was lost in the way your gummy walls gripped him in such a delicious way.

the pillow was yanked from your hands and thrown to the floor. you saw the blurry head of an upside down chris pointing his phone in your face. “look at this whore. crying on my brothers cock like you didn’t just get a new lapdog” he laughs.

you turn your head away from him as you felt tears running down your face. chris grabs your jaw and roughly forces you to look directly at him. you saw the flash from the camera looking right at you. “oh baby, look at you..” he mumbles as he smears your tears onto your lips.

matt’s thrust grew more aggressive. he was clearly taking his anger out, borderline abusing your cunt. your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you back arched slightly. matt mumbled his complaints and insults as he harshly pounded deep inside you.

“fucking slut”

“think you’re gonna replace us that easy?”

“bet he doesn’t fuck you the way we do”

you couldn’t even defend yourself. your voice was fucked out of you, all you could do was let out choked moans. you tried to reach for chris to hold onto him but he moved completely out of reach and laughed.

“look you pissed matt off” he says. you shut your eyes then attempted to push matt away by his pelvis but was shoved away by him. you couldn’t even tell them that you were at the brink of orgasm. you opened back your eyes only to see chris hovering over you again with the camera with his cock dangling in your face. he had a sick smile plastered on his face as he zoomed into matt brutality fucking into your cunt.

you soaked matt’s lower half with a loud moan practically a scream falling from your lips. “i’m sorry, matt did she ask you to cum? cause i didn’t hear anything” chris scoffs. matt shook his head, “nope” he grunted.

“flip her over” you heard chris say.

matt pulled out of you swiftly before turning you over. he placed his hands back onto your waist and lifted your lower half to meet his before plunging back in. you couldn’t even register matt’s cock in your guts as chris distracted you by pulling you hair up so your head met with his cock in your face.

chris teased himself on your glossed lips before pulling your hair back slightly, forcing you to open your mouth. you stuck your tongue out and barely grazed his tip. “don’t think your lapdog would be too keen on you panting like a bitch in heat” chris hissed.

he placed his tip flat onto your tongue then slowly pushed himself into your mouth. you thought he was going to be nicer and attempt to be gentle since matt already had your legs quivering. how wrong you were.

chris pushed his hips forward abruptly. you gagged with tears streaming down your face. your throat was on fire but the burn was delicious. between matt drilling into you from behind and chris fucking your face, you couldn’t stop yourself from cumming again on matt. your legs were shaking so bad, you swore you were going to drop if they weren’t holding you up.

“c’mon baby look at the camera. show your boyfriend how much better we treat you” chris pants as he shoves the camera in your face. you gurgled around his cock as a mixture of precum and saliva dripped out of your mouth.

“m’close!” matt moans as he leans over you, his thrust were getting sloppy. chris drops the phone then places both hands on your head. his head drops back while his eyes close. “mh’fuck!, let’s fill her up” chris moans.

you heard matt whine as ropes of his seed spilled inside you followed by a loud moan from chris as his load floods your throat. matt pulls out and jerks himself of while more of his cum pumps out of him and paints your back.

chris pulls out with a heavy sigh while you coughed. he moves back a bit to catch his breath then looks up to see matt sitting next to your limp body. matt played with you hair as you laid their with your eyes closed.

“i just don’t understand why you didn’t come to us if you wanted a boyfriend that bad.” matt states, “could’ve had two” he whispered to himself. you whined as you pushed his hand away softly. “s’cause you guys are so mean t’me” you say weakly.

“we’re not mean you’re just sensitive” chris laughs. he was over there scrolling through your following list, searching for your new boyfriend’s instagram. he scoffs as he looks through this guy’s feed judging every post. you heard his fingers tapping away but ignored it as you felt yourself slipping into a much needed rest.

“matt” chris calls. matt looks over to chris who was showing him his phone. a chuckle left matt’s mouth as he shakes his head.

instagram: christophersturniolo sent a video !

[your-internet-bf]

I have a bad habit of looking at other people's phones in public. Someday, I think I'll look at a cute girl's screen and see the sorta shit I like - bondage, rape, deep, strong fucking. You'd scroll past as quick as you can, of course, since it's embarrassing to be caught looking at that in public... But I'd know.

It's not hard to follow people, especially in a city. Nobody expects to be followed; you'd never even notice. Maybe you catch a glimpse of me through the corner of your eye, but it's just a coincidence that I've been behind you the past eight blocks, right? Right?

I've been camping outside your place, watching through the window. It wasn't hard, and you haven't noticed anything more than a shadow. But it's dark out now, and very late, and I climb up to your window to get a better view.

I see you reclined in your bed, rubbing and pounding as hard as you can, your brow furrowed and your lips open in a silent moan as you try to hide your, what, fourth orgasm of the night? I watch, every inch of my cock throbbing, aching, waiting for my turn.

You turn off your phone, close your eyes, and you - raw, red, exhausted you - try to sleep. I wait a few minutes just to be sure, feeling myself over my clothes, before trying your window. It's a rush when I find it unlocked - you are EXACTLY the kind of girl I thought you were. Silently, the window slides open, and I follow the cool night air into your bedroom.

You're prettier up close. I've been studying you for hours now, of course, but I hadn't noticed just how soft your skin was, or how smooth your curves... I pull down your covers, revealing that you didn't bother to put anything on after you came. Your slick, abused cunt is so inviting; every cell in my body is screaming at me to tear you open with my cock, to ruin you, to pound your cervix up into your tummy, but there's something I need to do first...

I take a quick moment to undress, quietly, the soft clink of my belt buckle being the only sound other than our breathing, already starting to mix in the darkness. Then all at once I pounce, pushing you onto your front, gripping your waist from behind, and ramming my cock dry into your ass.

It hurts. I want it to hurt.

You're scared. I want you to be scared.

Maybe you've been with a guy before, maybe you haven't, maybe you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or spouse right now; it doesn't matter to me. With my size, every hole feels tight, especially a victim.

I feel you writhe beneath me, trying to get away, but I won't let you. I take one of my hands off your waist and, balling up your hair in one fist, wrench your head back.

"You," I whisper, my breath hot on your cheek, "aren't going anywhere, pretty girl."

I push your face down into your bed and keep going, pounding, breaking, raping your ass. You feel my breath on you, my sweat on you, the smell of me overwhelming even as I'm intoxicated by yours. I yank your head back up and take a deep breath in at the back of your neck, moaning as I breathe out. As I pause, you raise your hips into me, whimpering, and I know you need me to keep going.

Because you need it, don't you? You need a big, strong man, smelling like sweat and power, to rape you, don't you? To completely make you mine, to turn you into a sobbing, soaking mess, to mold you around my filthy, throbbing cock. Say it now, say that you need it, that you're a needy slut, say it out loud...

So I continue. Taking the other hand back to your waist, I redouble my work, straining inside you. I reach down to slap your soaking pussy and rub your wetness on me, and keep going. In and out, in and out, in and out, my girth spreading your ass so wide, so painfully, you can barely think. But I know you need it, and I'm so close now.

My breath comes faster, catching in my throat, and you feel a hard thrust, then another, another, another, and finally, I ram into you so hard we both collapse into your bed... And you feel the thick, white cum shoot into you. Warm, heavy, sticky, it fills your insides as my cock pulses thick and strong inside you, my breath warm on your neck as I force you to cockwarm me.

I kiss your soft, pretty skin as you sob into your pillow. I grind into you as I do, and my cum leaks out, a slow stream rolling down from your ruined ass towards that gaping, aching cunt. After a minute, I pull out, and push you onto your back. You get a brief glimpse at my face through the tears - long, long eyelashes framing deep gray eyes - before I steal a kiss. Your tears make it salty, and you feel me smile, pressed up against your lips.

"You needed it, didn't you?" I ask, still grinning.

Weakly, you nod. "Mhmm..." You draw in another shaky breath.

"Good, good girl." I lean back and reach for my cock - I'm still hard. I still need you.

You know what you are now. You'd suspected it before, but now you know what you are, what you need, and so do I. You spread your legs for me, this time willingly, begging me to come make you mine...

[luveline]

You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.” 

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could. 

“You’re not saying hi anymore?” 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before you took it at the hospital, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.” 

He looks up tentatively. “You have?” 

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.” 

“Why?” Spencer asks. 

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.” 

“Okay.” 

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.” 

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.” 

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.” 

“And stuff.” 

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.” 

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone. 

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks. 

“What are you enjoying lately?” 

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?” 

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.” 

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse. 

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail. 

“Hug?” you ask hopefully. 

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear. 

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly. 

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second. 

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?” 

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.” 

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?” 

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him. 

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger. 

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.” 

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.” 

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face. 

“Nothing,” Spencer says. 

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.” 

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases. 

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

chewtoy | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dead dove: do not eat, noncon, humiliation, abuse of power / power imbalance, master / servant relationship, titles like master satoru, he's being Really Fucking Weird (sniffs u a bunch...rip), oral(f!receiving) 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (????)

✮ a/n ; horrible horrible man. can he leave me alone. extension of this

"The young Master is calling for you."

You try not to flinch. Aiko gives you a warm, summery smile and a soft nudge to your side. You can only assume this means you've succeeded and she doesn't sense your disgust.

"He's so fond of you," She ends her sentence with a wispy sigh. "Must be nice to have a rich, powerful man fawn over you a bit, right?"

You remain indifferent. She smiles again. You think she is infinitely more beautiful than you. Soft, bouncy hair and smooth skin. Her naive nature makes her shine brighter than one thousand suns. It'd be nice if the young Master showed interest in someone like her.

You put the dream to rest quickly.

"You shouldn't keep him waiting," She hums. It's so innocent. "Go on, don't let me keep you."

You don't tell her you wish she would keep you. She is also right that you should not keep him waiting. If he's summoned you to his chambers deliberately, that means he is already feeling impatient. Master Satoru never seeks you out unless he is in some kind of mood.

He's had this habit since childhood. You've never made him aware of it, and you don't plan too. One of the few things you help you know what to expect from him.

You nod her along, tell her to finish up work in the living quarters to which she agrees merrily. Her spirits are lifted by the prospect of the young Master showing you fondness. Some part of you wishes you could share in her joy.

A pit of dread makes your steps heavy, but your footfall is light and beautiful. You are poised and cool as you walk along the dark, dreary hallways that lead to the Master's office.

A door swallowed in shadow, a single light shining on the golden plaque with the young Master's full name. You knock twice, announcing yourself.

"You're here," He says. You try not to flinch. You're certain you do not succeed. You are thankful he cannot see you - or you hope he can't. "Come in,"

You open the door and step inside to his office - shutting the door behind you. Muscle memory guides you to your curtsy. You bow politely.

"Yes, Master?"

"So stuffy," His voice makes your chest feel tight with discomfort. Frustration ebbs underneath it, cuts like a jagged edged knife. "At least call me, Satoru. Our relationship is much better than that, I thought."

"I could never be so informal to the young Master," You say, and then concede. "But I will call you Master Satoru, if you wish."

"How obstinate," He drawls. You do not life your head to see the face he makes. You already know what it looks like. It's burned into your mind. "But I suppose I'll make do. Lift your head."

You lift your head, but do not look at his face.

"Come closer,"

You step towards him, your lungs pushing air out of you manually. Remembering to breathe evenly is a herculean task. He beckons you closer until you're within distance of his touch.

He glances at you. "Look at me."

You try not to hesitate and force your eyes forward. His eyes undress you. Pointed gaze falls along your features, outlines your every inch, and analyzes your face. You remain even. He hums.

His frivolity is missing. This is suddenly more frightening. His mood is worse than you thought.

"Lift your skirt,"

Your muscles tense as you try not to shake. You succeed. He lets out a soft breath before he drops down onto his knees. You do not let yourself make any sort of expression, averting your gaze. He stares long and hard at your clothed pussy.

You tremble. He assess you silently, eyes flitting up.

"Sit in my chair with your skirt over your waist. So I can see you properly and all."

You listen to his instructions mindlessly. The velvet of his chair and warmth of his remaining body heat touch your bare ass and thighs. Satoru turns to you, still on knees. His hand wraps around your ankles and slips your shoes off of you.

You close your eyes. Sudden intimacy makes you slink back.

"Look at me."

It is is a command. You let your gaze fall on him again and watch on in excruciating nausea. Your stomach twists violently at the fragility of it all. Slender fingers hook into your knee socks and pull them down along your calve until they're off. His gaze catches yours. He does not smile at you. His hand comes around your ankle again and lifts your leg closer to his face. His nose presses against the bend of your foot.

He inhales. You try not to react but you can feel your eyes go wide. Feel your muscles clench, your heart sinking. Iron fills your mouth.

He lets his nose nudge up against the top of your calf.

"Young Master,"

He stares at you. Irritation flits through his gaze. There's no getting out of this, no mercy. You slink back again. He does smile that time.

Your body prickles with unwanted heat at the sensation. He licks along your legs, biting the supple skin - huffing the scent of your sweat every time he goes along. His teeth sink perversely into your flesh, sucking until there's throbbing, marks against your calves. The color of an orchid, purple and red. Fear strikes in you like a match. His grip on your ankles moves to the back of your calves and squeezes tight. He repeats the process on both calves intently.

There's claim to this. You know this part of him. He is claiming you with vicious confidence. Something with deeper magnitude then lust. For you, he is desire and ownership and want incarnat. A testament of his own beliefs. You willfully do no make noise aside from a gasp or breath.

You don't know how long it takes until he's satisfied with the state both legs.

He moves up. Bites the soft flesh of your thigh. You nearly spit out another useless plea. Shamelessness makes up his every move. His tongue slides over every single inch of your bare skin until his noses brushes along your cunt.

He doesn't lick you there. Not right away. Again he sniffs, breathes you in deep and uncomfortable. It's violating in all senses of the word, his grip tightening on your thighs as he huffs your scent. You haven't bathed. You've practically been running around since morning, but he doesn't let up and breathes you in anyway.

You squirm at that point. Your face contorts so slightly and he's watching you for it. His face finally cracks a smile and abject dread makes your spine lock up.

"Mm," He emphasizes the sound. It's so loud in such a quiet room. "That's it."

You don't have the strength to say anything.

It's frighteningly abrupt and rough, the feeling of his mouth along your pussy. He sucks at your clit from outside the fabric and you gasp - suddenly helpless. It's not the first time, of course not. But it's never this... random. Never this rough.

Your back arches at the sudden motion, face breaking - and Satoru grips you tighter and forces you back into the chair. Forces his tongue against your clit and sucks hard through the cotton material. Your body betrays you in its reaction - nipples pebbling underneath your clothes. Nearly screaming from the sensitivity. Your lower body is all ache - hickeys and bruises and bite marks making you throb perpetually. Too much, too much, too much.

Shame floods your system as the first spike of arousal forces itself from you - your cunt floods, gushing with a sudden spike of want from rough treatment. The sound of him sucking you so hard and drenching it with his saliva echoes across the room. You're sure it's traveling into the hall.

"Master Satoru," Your voice is even but it cracks on his name. Tears form at the corners of your eyes - fear and shame mixing into desperation. "Satoru,"

He hums into your pussy and you shake. "What is it? What wish would you like your master to fulfill for you.

"Please," Your voice is hoarse. Bone-deep exhaustion is out done by adrenaline. "Not through the fabric, please. It's dirty."

He sucks again and you keen - nails digging into your palms as you throw your head back.

"Your Masters spit soaking your panties is dirty? How rude." He teases. The whimper leaves your mouth without permission. You wish this would end soon but even amidst your fog you know that is not more than a pipe dream.

He takes them off. Rolls them down your thighs all wet and drops them. You let out a sigh of relief before his nose bridges touches your clit again. Swallowing the sound, you look away.

"It's soaked," He says conversationally, "Your needy little cunt is making a mess of your Master's chair. Tsk, tsk - so shameful."

"I'm sorry," You croak, unsure of what else to say. "I'll clean it."

He laughs, seemingly alleviated from his prior upset at the state of your humiliation.

"I'm sure you'll do an excellent job," He rests his hand over the mound of your sex - using pointer and thumb to spread your lips apart and get view of your swollen little clit. He breathes on it. "But you're still begging me for my attention down here. Filthy pussy for such a meticulous maid. Do you know how wet you are? Did you miss me so much?"

You don't answer him. He goes on.

"I thought of you all week," His voice is soft. Tinged with affection, or something like it. "Ahh, dealing with higher ups is such a pain."

You stare at him. He looks back at you with a smile. You flinch. You flinch certainly. "But I can always take it out on you, can't I? This perfect, filthy, needy cunt. It'll only every belong to me and I get to use it to my hearts content. I thought of that suddenly then called you."

It's not just your cunt he's interested in. That'd be relieving if that were the case. If he only ever used you to vent his sexual frustrations, treat you like a personal cocksleeve. You think it might be better that way.

He's too fond of you for that.

The young Master treats you like a chew toy instead. He bites, licks, slobbers, and misuses you. He might hump you to chase his high from time to time, might throw you around for rough sex should the mood suit him. But he's not a clueless oaf, some classless barbarian who only feels pleasure from his cock.

His violation is something else. It's deeper in scent, richer in taste. It is born from his greatness.

He's smart enough to know exploitation and that's what gets him off most. He exploits you. Exploits your reactive body, exploits your stoicism, exploits your dedication to your duty. You're his chew toy because you are designed to be unbreakable. You are indestructible.

But you have the perfect amount of give. You flinch, sigh, and whimper enough to make your Master thrilled. You squeak and moan like you're heat addled when he plays with you enough.

To Satoru, you're the most perfect thing to ever grace his life. His favorite toy that he's bitten at since he was just a boy and grew so fond of.

No matter how much you end up in tatters, Satoru can't help but love you with all of his heart.

You get exhausted being thrown around. But you can't go anywhere, either. He's so watchful of you. He might go crazy and bite if you were to disappear.

"Cum for me," He says, sucking on your clit much more softly. He's gentle but exact. Knows the ins and outs of your body enough to send you racing towards the edge with an unimaginable speed. You gasp and shudder, holding onto his chair for your life as an orgasm shoots through like lightning through a telephone wire.

You cum. You cum hard, bruised and mind-broken and nauseous and you cum so hard something spurts out of you and makes the chair wet. The young Master is nonplussed of course, and laps it up like a dog drinking water.

"Ahh, much better." He's pleased as he stands up and then bends down to your height. His hand cradles the back of your neck with a pleasant sigh as he forces a cum-soaked kiss onto your mouth. "Just as I thought, you were just what I needed."

Utterly defeated, you pull away with a gasp. "...I'm happy to serve you, Master Satoru."

"Such a nice sentence from your mouth, true or not." He gives you one more kiss, to the crown of your head. Too tender, too raw. "Prepare yourself to service me a bit more, then."

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, captivity, fantasy lore, abuse, murder mention, suggestive (?)

"You seem to be upset."

He's leaning against the window not too far away from you. Not too close as well - just far enough for you to feel at ease.

"Aren't you a mind - reader." You respond under your breath, trying to focus on the book you're currently reading - but the letters are escaping you, and you find yourself re-reading the same paragraph for the third time. He sighs, much like a disappointed father, before stepping towards you. And if you flinch just slightly, he doesn't pretend to notice or care.

"What is wrong, my flower?" The man gestures theatrically, soft velvet voice unbecoming of the monster he is flowing easily into the open air. You don't know what to say, really. It's been two years - or so you think, there is no way to keep track of time in this kingdom, not that time goes the same way in the elfen world as it does in the human, yet the part of you still capable of logical thought seems to think so. Two years, and there is very little you haven't already said. Very little left to be said, so your conversations are mostly rehearsed repetitions of what you already know. What you already fear - that you're going to die here. Or even worse. That you've become incapable of aging, so very consumed by this foreign land you detest that you've given up death for a life of boring, purposeless immortality.

"Don't I shower you with lavish gifts?" The noble moves closer, stalking towards you - observing you as if you're a butterfly pinned to a wooden frame under a microscope. "Don't I buy you the shiniest jewels? Not even the queen herself owns such sparkling emeralds." He scoffs, painfully used to your lack of response. You clear your throat, turning a new page - having little to recall about the last. It's completely meaningless just like all the other pages in all the other books you read. How funny, you think. In that distant, dreamy past of yours you were too busy to read - busy with work, busy with family, busy with friends. Busy with life. Now nothing gets in the way of your reading, you have all the time in the world - but there's no one to share the knowledge with. No one to spoil the ending. No time limits. No goal to it all, no final destination. So you read, and you soak the pages with salty tears not remembering a word.

"I am grateful for all the treasures you give me, my Lord." You answer nonchalantly, keeping your pointer at the end of the paper in a desperate attempt to find the sentence exactly where you left it off. You can feel him move closer to you - and the only indication of your growing fear are the shivers that travel down your spine with the beat of your violently full, thumping heart.

"Don't I provide you with all the entertainment your little human heart could possibly bear?" The duke clicks his long sharp nails together once against the other - an ugly metallic sound echoes deep into the ceiling reminiscent of a dying forest clow. "There has never been a lack of wine or music or dance in my court. I've gifted you more golden dresses than you can wear in this life. I've written you more poems than you can read." He keeps going, describing every little thing he's done for you, despite the fact that you've never asked for any of it.

"I admire your taste for indulgence, my Lord." You repeat almost automatically, the praises sitting on your tongue just waiting to be spilt from parted honey lips. Your eyes are glued to the book, but you've given up on reading long ago. Now you're simply trying not to cry - focusing your eyes at one word at a time and blinking repeatedly, manically, feeling as if the world with end the moment you let him see your weakness. You can't believe you still have so much pain in you - enough to feel loss and anger and, what's even worse, hope. Hope that one day you'll be free again.

"And tell me, flower—" His fist wraps around your low ponytail, forcing you to look up at him and meet his eyes for the first time tonight. What's staring back at you might as well be the bottom of the ocean itself, misty and dark, cold and unknown. Human eyes convey so much affection - so much care that you can never mistake it for anything else. With elves it's different - you can spend centuries looking for a hint of kindness, and you'll only get lost in those beatiful bottomless pits. Shiny and sparkling and completely empty. "Don't I give you love? Don't I embrace you tightly every night?" His voice lowers dangerously, barely above a whisper.

"I don't understand what more you could possibly want. Should I prove myself to you? Should I slay a dragon for you? Perhaps I could tie the heads of your enemies with a pretty bow and give them to you as a wedding gift, hmm?" He's babbling incoherently, nails digging into your scalp with unyealding grip. "Would that finally, finally make you happy, beloved?"

"No, no, please let go." You cry out in agony, wriggling out of his hold - but he's too strong, too massive to move. "I'm happy, I'm—" You sob pitifully, weakly pushing at his chest. "I'm happy with you. Please, you make me so happy, just please let go. And please don't hurt anyone."

He slowly pulls away, chest heaving in and out wildly. The scariest part is always his face. It remains unbothered - cold and defined like a statue of a god, his true feelings hidden by a mask of barely contained rage.

"You're happy with me?" He raises an eyebrow, foot stomping on the ground impatiently. You nod hesitantly, too shaken up to comprehend what you're even agreeing to. "Then prove it. Show me just how happy I make you." He grabs your wrist, pulling you face-first into his hard chest. "Do it, and I might reconsider my other more... inhumane methods of courtship." His lips twist into a cruel smirk. "And may the Gods help you."

As you sink to your knees you try to think of what book to read next - but no title comes to mind.

[a-s-ter]

"𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆"

— 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: If you don't want your butler to reach a breaking point and take matters into his own hands by 'disciplining' you, perhaps refrain from behaving like a spoiled brat next time.

— 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rough sex , unprotected sex , brat!reader , overstimulation , bttm male reader , blowjob , smacking , swearing , dirtytalk , praise , manhandling , dirty talk , age gap , virgin!reader , making out , degradation , petnames , non con , public sex.

PART 1 , PART 2

You were furious. Shattering objects around your room, you turned your once pristine chamber into a chaotic mess. Your anger overflowed onto everyone around you, shouting and unleashing abuse.

After that, you broke down. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped the bed sheets, sprawled on your royal bed still clad in your sleepwear.

You were M/n, the prince! How could you have stooped so low as to beg someone, especially a butler? It was utterly humiliating! What would your father and mother say if they discovered your shameful behavior?

Your father had placed a heavy burden upon your shoulders, entrusting you with the future of the empire. He had envisioned you as a paragon of strength, resilience, and dominance. However, you found yourself succumbing to the influence of a mere butler. His admonitions reverberated in your mind like a relentless echo.

"Do not disappoint me. Be strong and wield the sword with skill, just as your brother does. My time wanes, and the throne shall be yours upon my passing. Fail me not, M/n, lest I consider another heir."

These words were etched into your very being, a constant weight upon your conscience. You vowed not to falter. You would rise above this moment of weakness and prove yourself worthy of the crown he had bestowed upon you.

Your cries were silent, hidden from the world. You couldn't bear the thought of anyone discovering your weakness, fearing it would tarnish your reputation and redefine how others perceived you. You couldn't afford to be seen as anything less than the strong and dominant M/n they expected.

You couldn't let your mother and father see this side of you. No one could know your vulnerability. But that butler had already glimpsed your submissive nature, a betrayal you couldn't forgive.

Clutching the bedsheets tighter, you vowed to exact punishment upon him. But how? The question gnawed at you as you plotted your next move.

"Your Highness?"

Your eyes widened as you recognized that voice. It was that damned butler! Quickly, you got up from your bed and hurried to the door without thinking. With a rush of irritation, you swung it open and came face-to-face with that annoying face you despised.

"You asshole! How dare you show your face in front of me!? Get out of my sight, I never wish to see you here ever again!" you yelled, your voice trembling with anger.

He stared down at you, his yellow eyes cold and calculating as they scanned your face. "That's such a shame, Your Highness," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You'll be seeing me more often."

"W—what the heck do you mean by that!?" you demanded, your bewilderment evident in your tone.

"Your mother," he began, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction, "heard about your recent behavior and was quite shocked. When she saw that I possess the proper manners and decorum you seem to lack, she decided I would be the perfect candidate to be your new etiquette teacher." His words hung in the air, leaving you stunned and speechless.

You chuckled nervously, hoping it was some twisted joke. "H-hey... Tell me you're joking. Y-you're joking, right!?" Desperation seeped into your voice as you grabbed his collar harshly, trying to shake the truth out of him.

"I'm afraid not," he replied calmly, his smirk unwavering. "She found out about your behavior towards the maids and your lack of manners, Your Highness."

Anger flared within you at his words, and you tightened your grip on his collar. "So what if I have no manners!? I couldn't care less about those worthless maids! Those 'foods' are nothing but garbage. We don't eat slop like that; it's disgusting! They should've been kicked out of this castle ages ago! Just like you! Just a lowly butler who's probably good at nothing, maybe just some trash my father picked up!" you spat.

"Your words only confirm why I'm here. Perhaps it's time you learned the value of respect and humility your highness."

"No! Fuck off asshole!" you exclaimed, but he paid no heed to your protests. With a swift motion, he forcefully removed your grip on his collar and seized your wrist in a tight grip, his hold unyielding.

You struggled against his grasp, but it was futile. With a determined stride, he barged into your room, his grip still firm as he flung you to the unforgiving floor. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as pain shot through your body upon impact.

As you lay there, vulnerable and in pain, you watched helplessly as he closed the door behind him and locked it, sealing you both in.

He glared down at you, his eyes a piercing yellow that sent shivers down your spine.

"Shall we begin the lesson with your mouth, Your Highness?" His words were laced with a commanding tone as he strode towards you.

"My mouth!? What do you mean by my mouth? Stay away, you filthy vermin!" You attempted to rise, but your legs failed you, leaving you vulnerable on the floor.

With a smirk that sent a chill down your spine, he loomed over you, seizing your chin to meet his gaze forcibly.

"You have such beautiful eyes your highness. Staring at me like that turns me on." he declared, as your gaze involuntarily dropped to his pants, where a noticeable bulge had formed.

"Do you want to see it? See how I'm going to lecture that mouth of yours?" His tone was both mocking and tantalizing as he began to undo his belt, the metallic clink resonating in the tense silence of the room.

"N-no, no! I don't want to see your icky meat!" you protested, but your words fell on deaf ears as he proceeded to remove his belt and push down his underwear.

Your eyes widened in shock as his erect member was revealed before you, Tall and pale white with a crimson hue at the tip, it stood proudly before you, veins pulsing along its length as it throbbed with anticipation.

"It's yours," he declared, his voice thick with desire, "all yours for you to see anytime and anywhere, Your Highness."

"W-wha—?" Your attempt at a coherent response was abruptly stifled as he seized your head, thrusting his cock into your mouth with an aggressive force that left you gasping for air. The sudden intrusion hit the back of your throat, eliciting a choked gurgle of surprise as your eyes widened in shock.

Instinctively, you reached out, grasping onto his thighs for support as you struggled to accommodate his size. Sweat beaded on his brow as he grunted in satisfaction, relishing the sight of you adjusting to his relentless penetration. His grip tightened on your hair, adding to the sensation of his control over you.

"Mhmm, that's a good boy... Taking me all in," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched you with a predatory gaze.

"Ngh... Let's begin the lesson, Your Highness." With a deliberate motion, he began to withdraw his cock from your mouth, only to slam it back in with a force that stole your breath away. Your grip on his thighs tightened as tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of pain and submission washing over you as you surrendered to his will.

He moaned in ecstasy, throwing his head back as the overwhelming sensations consumed him. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him, the slickness of your saliva adding to the intensity of his pleasure. With each thrust, he felt himself sinking deeper into bliss, utterly lost in the euphoria of the moment.

As he gazed down at you, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. Your furrowed brows, the blush that painted your cheeks, the subtle bulge he noticed in your pants – it was all too much, too perfect. In this moment, you belonged to him and him alone.

"Kick and claw all you like. Scream. Hit me. Curse the fuck out of me. Only you can do that to me and not to anyone else, i don't want your attention to go to anyone but me. You don't belong to anyone but me, M/n. Only me." he declared, his words laced with a possessive fervor as he continued to thrust into your mouth, each motion driving him closer to the edge.

As you gasped for breath, he withdrew his cock from your mouth allowing you a moment to recover. Relief flooded through you as you gulped in air, your chest heaving with the effort while a smirk was playing on his lips as he observed your struggle.

With a cruel chuckle, he grasped his cock firmly in his hand and lightly slapped your flushed cheeks with it, Your glare met his amused gaze. Chuckling softly as he seemed to revel in your reaction.

"Day to dusk, I'm going to fuck that bratty attitude out of you, so you better be ready, your Highness."

[acid-ixx]

How do think readers relationship with each of the batfam would be had they not been neglected?

what if...? ft. domestic headcanons w/ your family

series masterlist &. request masterlist — long post ahead !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 6400+ words, no beta i'm genuinely insane. help i literally thought abt this yesterday !! i may or may not post a drabble about this one specific dream the reader had about where they had a normal relationship with the batfam but at the same time i want to implement it in the next chapter instead so have food for thoughts instead! slight spoilers below. also please do comment and reblog if u like this ! ^^ supporting my writing just makes me further motivated to write even more !

if you were never neglected by your own family, then i could say that the process of them turning yandere would be a tad bit better or worse. i'm saying, because of your past and because of an incident during your elementary years (that could've been avoided if your family actually never ignored you; so let's assume that that incident actually never happened but it opened a gateway for an even more protective family) the batfam could easily be either a dream or nightmare.

let's say it was bruce and dick who had picked you up from the police station. the moment he sees his own firstborn child, all his thoughts would circulate from just how broken and hopeless you absolutely looked, how the injuries litter throughout your entire body, the way your empty eyes stare at anything.

the child, his child, looked exactly like him all those years ago. he knows just how painful it is to bare losing all your loved ones.

he wouldn't hesitate to approach your form, immediately picking you up and letting your head lean on his shoulders as dick follows in tow, cooing about his significantly younger sibling.

that would be the first time dick would call you his baby bird, with the way you'd stare at him with mixed emotions in your eyes.

if him and dick were to hear about what happened to you inside your old apartment from the police (drugged and abused by the same men who took your mother away from you), then be guaranteed that batman and nightwing would be more brutal during their patrol afterwards (dick would even take more weeks off from bludhaven just to care for his younger sibling), even going as far as formulating a plan for your captors, having oracle stalk each and every person involved in your life.

if anyone thinks the vigilante would abide by his no-kill rule then they're wrong, because he'd turn a blind eye for once if dick were to brutally stab someone at any moment. why? because batman will not settle until his own child's attackers are thrown into putrid prison cells with no guarantee that they'll see the light of the day. the criminals should be grateful that red hood isn't even in the picture yet.

your father would be more perceptive of your emotions if he had never neglected you. he will always be the one giving you rides, he'll shield you away from the mass media trying to take photographs of you— and you're getting carried throughout the manor if your little body were to even express fatigue.

bruce wayne wouldn't admit it, but he absolutely cherishes you and your youth. he had adopted dick and grayson when they were above the age of ten, when they were already growing some sort of consciousness about the world they live in. but you? you're so small and you have so much to learn, your innocence is something bruce would protect. you'll be absolutely coddled by your father, your grandfather figure, alfred, and your oldest brother, dick. even future members of the family knows just how important you are maintaining their sanity.

that means you have the manor in the palm of your hands. you had a nightmare tonight? don't worry, your dad would always be one step ahead of you and would immediately be in your room. hell, if you were comfortable enough, you'd be sleeping in the same bedroom as your dad for the first few years you'll live inside the manor. he'll read you bedtime stories if you want and even have alfred prepare you warm milk or chocolate before you go to sleep. his entire schedule would also be centered around you, making sure that he would always arrive on time from business meetings to have dinner with you, and coming home early from patrols. if he leaves the manor before you're set off to sleep, then he'll be giving you a good night's kiss whilst alfred would be the one substituting for your nightly bedtime stories.

you may call him overbearing once you start to notice the signs the more you grow older, but your father will always track your sleep schedule - he even makes you wear a watch that records your heart rate - from the moment you drift into dreamland to the times you get nightmares— he makes sure the food you eat before dinner is light, booking appointments with nutritionists to make sure you're healthy. he even does specialized training with you, for self defence and to also maintain a healthy lifestyle.

and dick grayson? his visits to gotham would be more frequent. even if his relationship with bruce is strained, he'll always be in the manor faster than you could say 'i miss you' to your older brother on the phone. he loves coddling his baby bird, especially since you were adopted right after jason's death; dick doesn't want a repeat of the past, always making sure you get proper cuddles and affirmations.

spending time with dick means you get all the power to draw on his arms or face or make arts and crafts with him. he enjoys it when his baby bird is at their comfiest state so even if you were seated on the floor, there would always be cozy blankets that count as your chairs and snacks right beside you. you could ask him to get something for you and he's right at it.

he would be the older brother who normalizes physical affection in the household. dick would constantly kiss your cheeks, your foreheads, and any injuries you would obtain (a habit that even bruce adopted once your dad realized how it's an effective way to soften your cries and ease your heart). he's not afraid of picking you up even! always tossing you to the air under alfred or bruce's supervision whenever you feel down. dick would always hold your hand, too, as an assurance that your beloved older brother is always there for you.

you'd probably ignore all the red flags he carries around because of how early he shows off his signs of obsessiveness. so don't question it if him and bruce wouldn't allow you to go to sleepovers with your other friends or if sometimes, just sometimes dick feels the need to just have you in his arms for hours without end after particularly brutal patrols. you're the only person holding him up and if he doesn't breath in that reminder then he might just lose himself.

your brother would literally prioritize you over anything else. he can and will pick you up from school, he makes sure nobody in your class is there to bully you, he'll spoil you with sweet treats whenever bruce is too busy with business meetings. he wants to be seen as your favorite ever since he's discovered himself to be your idol, so he'll always show off his acrobatic skills for your eyes only.

whenever dick would say "i love you!" it always translates to, "if you want me to, then i will give you the world." which means he'll drop anything he's doing right now the moment you invite him over to design your diaries or sketchbooks.

your talents very early on would be heavily acknowledged by your family. that means any single drawing or craft you'd do, whether poorly done or not, would be stored in very protective places or shows off in every crevice of the manor. any father's day gift from you would be framed in bruce's personal office, a personal reminder to him that you are the light at the end of the brooding tunnel he puts himself in. so even if he can't always be there for you, he will always have you in his mind and in his heart.

your existence in the manor would prove to be a healthier way for bruce to cope, for him to get his mind off of the loss of his second child. whenever he looks at you, he'll always be filled with a determination to protect gotham from any further danger, to save the city - if not himself, then for your sake, for his baby to feel safe whenever they would walk on the streets, for his baby to feel protected whenever you two would eat in fancy restaurants or go shopping for your diary's supplies.

criminals would immediately get the message that messing with you means getting on the bad side of both batman and nightwing. you may be the child of bruce wayne, (name) wayne, but if they even think of kidnapping you for ransom then they should pray; pray because if batman's baby even gets a single nick, a single droplet of blood on their body then they're gone. there's no such thing as holding back if it comes to you.

now, your older sister figure, barbara gordon, despite her constantly being busy because of her role as the oracle, would find ways to at least entertain you whenever you would visit her in the batcave. if you feel like your father's overprotective nature and your older brother's coddling is too much, then she will be offer you solace by her side. she may not always be physically there but you two are as close as you are to the other members of your family because you're a creative one. it's not often barbara gets to spend time with someone like you who enjoys having her as a muse for your art pieces. she allows you to also style her hair, and if you like to design clothing, then she'd be your model for as much as you want.

barbara is also your go-to for when dick and bruce are both unavailable. she lets you watch her hack through multiple security systems, explaining concepts that you don't understand. and, because she's the most emotionally stable out of all of them, you'd prefer gossiping to her about your school's drama compared to dick, as she actually gives you helpful advice!

well, little do you know that she had already hacked your school's camera footage and wired multiple recorders on your bag but you don't have to know that! after all, barbara wants to keep the only sane person in the household safe and happy. she's not openly obsessive towards you, but whatever secrets you have that don't compromise your safety are secrets she promises she will bring to the grave. that means if you ever have a crush on a someone then she will hide it from the others.

... that is until you actually end up trying to get into a relationship too early for even her eyes then she won't hesitate sending out the signals to bruce and the others. she can't afford exposing her younger sibling to heartbreaks and emotional attachment towards strangers! so do forgive her if there are times where you feel like there's someone constantly watching your back, because she is that someone; with all the intentions in the world that you wouldn't have to go through what she did with the joker or any other villains who could whisk you away from their arms.

it's obvious that, of course the oracle will use all the power in her hands to guarantee all eyes are on you, so that there would never be an opening for any danger towards you. even if you do know that she's the one in-control of the strings, there's not much you could do but accept it.

then there's tim drake. your brother who had stalked batman and nightwing just to prove a point. his parents are alive and he's fine being on his own, but fuck it if he prefers being in the wayne manor! once you're introduced to tim, he's immediately researching about the first biological child of bruce wayne. and thank god bruce requires the two of you to become familiar with each other because you're just so interesting to him, you and your curious eyes, your small habits— the way you shift in your position as your father's hands are clasped on your shoulder protectively.

tim can already feel himself blast off in excitement just solving the mysteries about you! yet he doesn't know it in himself that the longer you spend time with him, the more the urge to just stitch himself into your very life grows stronger.

if you were never neglected by your own family then you would instead be analyzed constantly. tim is just another set of eyes constantly watching you, but unlike the others, he picks off every single detail about you to a T.

you, your interests, your hobbies, your favorites, your friends, you name it; he will have an entire collection of case files on everything, picking apart your very mind to the seams. it's like he's eating up the information about you, spending sleepless nights researching about a movie you two would watch soon, because the look of amazement in your eyes feeds the growing love he has for his sibling.

at first he'd never understand why bruce and dick seems so smitten towards you other than the case regarding your mother. but he slowly starts to understand why— because just like him, you're perceptive of his well-being. if dick isn't around then you're always the one hanging around his room, visiting him with snacks in your arms or an invitation to watch a cartoon show.

he likes doing your assignments for you, especially your projects even if he neglects his own duties for his own school. and despite how emotionally constipated or unaware he seems, he's obsessed with your personal life. that means you don't even have to rant to him about school drama or your friends or crush because he can and will know it. what he doesn't like, though, is when your attention is towards anything but him. he may not be the most physically comfortable to cuddle but he will offer you his jackets which he would end up not washing right after you use them, instead he wears them, feeling closer to you than ever.

it even lulls him to sleep for the times you're unable to sleep over at his room.

tim may not know how to comfort you like dick whenever you wake up from nightmares but he does know ways to avoid them; he knows a lot of strategic methods to get you drowsy after a moment's panic.

bonus points if you cuddle him afterwards! he loves the warmth that you emanate, loves it when your body leans against him and makes him feel so important. tim loves it when you snuggle him unknowingly, tightening your already bruising grip on him, he loves reciprocating it too, feeling a special bond with his sibling that not even his parents could offer.

though he doesn't openly tell you that he loves you, he does so in his own ways! you don't want to see an entire photography room dedicated to his younger sibling— most pictures contributed by tim. you don't want to see the terabytes of files that are all about you and your interests, millions of video imagery of just you sketching or writing diary entries, sometimes eating or rambling senselessly. you don't know it but tim loves playing the videos of you in the background, especially the ones where you're humming a tune or singing a lullaby; those are his favorites.

it's not his fault that you're just so interesting to him, that your presence is so comforting, that you're the only person closest to him that has the ability to make him melt into you, unknowingly succumbing to your spoiled wishes.

jason todd comes into the picture later, and he is a very enraged man. he's mad at his replacement, at bruce, at you, at the entire universe.

at first he just doesn't understand anything. he doesn't understand why bruce finds it so easy to not only replace his status as robin but to also bring in another child, who's valued and loved more despite not taking the mantle of robin. he's mad at just how quick he was replaced, how it seems like bruce never avenged him, and yet if he threatens your safety then the old man suddenly turns violent towards him?!

jason wouldn't bring you into the fray, because you're unaware of the entire situation, but fuck, he doesn't understand why you are just so cherished when he'd watch the news and sees your picture plastered all over the reporters' walls, talking about the child who bruce never allowed to separate from his side. they talk about how you're the sheltered one, the hearthrob of all media with just how clingy the billionaire is towards his supposed younger sibling.

he's not jealous, he gets why bruce is protective and smothers himself all over you; but he hates feeling replaced, feeling discarded and forgotten by the very man who'll avenge your death if that ever happened.

hence why he has to see it for himself, has to see you for himself. it's a coincidence, a miracle actually that he just seems to easily find you by the kitchen of the manor— a manor whose aura is now different from last time, it seems like it now reeks of life, of personality. clearly you were the main cause of all of this.

you could simply be reading a book and sipping your nightly tea, but jason would soon realize just how... vulnerable you are at the moment. you find him hiding in the shadows and all you offer is a wide stare with no sense of self defense whatsoever. it's the same vulnerability that he sees off the cruelest streets of gotham. you're exactly like the innocent kids who get brutally murdered without justice, just like the children who have never once gained penance for the torture they had to experience just living off of personality.

jason isn't a dumbass, living near the crime alley means hearing the gossips of every citizen. your name, or preferably your last name is famed even in the underground. your mother is infamous for catching the attention of most crime lords by running off with their cash, successful staying hidden to care for her child, just right until she met her untimely demise. you lost her early just like how he lost his mother early as she had fallen victim to drug overdose.

he'll discover why gotham's vigilante seems to be so protective over you. the way you carry yourself, the warmth you give off as you offer him your leftover dinner despite not

you told him that your dad taught you to never talk to strangers— but clearly he's not because "how else would you be able to trespass the millions of security alarms in the manor? you must've lived here before." you'll state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, sipping your drink before you offer him a seat next to yours, unafraid of the dangers that lie ahead of you—

"you must've really been pampered by the old man, huh?" is all his reply, the voice changer of his makes him sound naturally intimidating, like he's ready to attack but no, that's not his intentions with you. he'll take a seat beside you, try to make out what book you're reading and that's when he knows that you truly have no idea that it's your dead brother who's talking to you. you have no idea of his resurrection whatsoever as you start to mumble off about the novel— he finds it quite amusing that, finally, he's not the only guy who enjoys literature in the family, even going as far as to recommend his own fair share of favorite novels to you.

once he leaves out of the window after a seemingly long session of talking, definitely aware that yes, bruce does have a microchip inserted under your skin, and the watch you're wearing has a voice recorder that sends recordings straight to the batcave's system; jason takes note to visit you more often, finding the normalcy you offer very welcoming.

he likes it, likes your mellow behavior. he'll even admit that you're the only proof that bruce can, in fact, raise a child right, even if that means tracking their entire life. but that's the old man's love language, and jason knows it in himself that he's already planning for a way to take you to ride his motorcycle at night without bruce's knowledge; just so his angel knows the feeling of gotham's breeze flowing through their hair since bruce seems to love dictating your every move.

once he does form a solid plan to take you away, even just temporarily, you don't have to worry about the criminals who litter the streets because jason made sure that nobody's gonna mess with him and his angel's bonding time together.

the youngest, damian wayne, and the second biological child of bruce is a special case. his upbringing as an assassin makes him susceptible to his fits of tantrums. the first time he steps foot into the manor is the same time he will threaten anyone around him; and that includes you, the bastard child. quite frankly, your first greeting with him would be the same as the one in the original storyline, you'll greet him with a tray of sweets in your hand and a small smile and he'll reply with a sword on your neck. but the difference would be the undeniable fact that dick and bruce immediately stopped him from even nicking your delicate skin.

dick's swearing was shut down by alfred's scolding and you, again! pulling on your oldest brother's sleeve with an assurance that you're okay.

that's the very first time he sees his father truly reprimand him with nothing but rage in his eyes. despite damian's annoying antics towards his father the entire day, it seems like you were the snapping point.

his father, bruce wayne, made it very clear that he can mess with anyone and everyone in the family but you. that you have nothing to

his only reply would be a sneer as he demands they take him to his room immediately, unable to shut you down when you offer to help bring his luggage despite bruce's firm unwillingness and dick's hesitant request that his baby bird should instead spend time in his room instead.

but it was always your word above everybody else's and damian hates that, hates that everyone just seems to succumb to your request as long as it doesn't compromise your safety. the bitterness that keeps resurfacing in his heart whenever he sees you wearing tim or dick's jacket, or if he caught sight of bruce giving you affection was a feeling he tried to convince himself wasn't jealousy.

not jealousy towards you, no, but towards them. your behavior towards him was nothing but kind, a kindness that was taught to him as weakness. he thinks you're weak and undeserving of being spoiled and yet he hates it whenever he sees his blood sibling (whom he called a bastard child so many times) become too close with anyone but him.

he hates it, he hates you and his conflicting feelings. he hates it when he pushes you away, hates it when he sees you pout after another failed attempt at trying to have your youngest sibling talk to you.

and as the days or even weeks pass by, with all your effort to try to bond with him, with the days where he can feel dick's energy drain because you insisted on spending time with damian instead of dick again, with tim's intolerable treatment towards the him because you chose to bother damian instead of that loser— are the days he feels himself actually becoming closer to you because he relishes in your insufferable behavior towards them, because you just seem so sweet to him.

damian feels that it's right that you make him the exception.

so it's inevitable that damian will eventually discover both your talents towards art and the love for nature. it's a mistake, really, when one day as he stalks through the hallways he'd find you in your own atelier, painting a portrait of a robin with a color scheme that matches his vigilante suit. the beams of sunlight seems to hit you just right because you looked so at peace with your surroundings, humming a tune, unaware of your youngest brother who has found himself at your most natural state.

he'll budge in without moment's hesitation afterwards, steering clear behind you as he analyzes your art. it would only be after a few minutes would he announce his presence in the room, expecting you to scream at him to buzz off but all you did was jump in your seat, looking back to eye the intruder only to find out it was damian all along, offering him a smile and a seat beside you.

after he does so, you'll both end up spending the entire day bombarding each other with art tips and animal facts. he'll give you comments about the bird's proportions and you give him guidelines on how to properly mix your colors without it looking muddled. it's like you two are meant to be siblings because damian swears he ended up clinging to your side after your painting session, refusing to even seat beside anyone during dinner time if it isn't you because he's not done rambling about the rainbow eucalyptus you had told him you'd seen in a nature documentary once— so it's rightfully his place to be beside you and not drake's or grayson's or even his father.

eventually you two would be as close as peas in a pod because you're seemingly the only one who knows how to calm him down, the only one with the right to raise your voice at him and to ask him of favors because you're his blood sibling. and because you both share the same blood, that means you both should share clothes that complement each other, share snacks and treats, share matching bracelets and necklaces and any jewelry, you're the only one allowed to hang around his room and him in yours.

the others find it annoying that you let him be, but what choice do they have? unless they would like to hear an earful from damian then they should stay silent because you both aren't done painting each other's nails yet!

stephanie brown is shortly introduced to you after her incessant insistence on meeting you right after stepping foot into the manor. she knows of your internet fame for being the beloved bruce wayne's 'favorite' child and she's not afraid to admit that you are indeed adorable in person! unlike your first meeting with damian, steph would immediately coddle you at first glance, insisting you call her by 'steph' and that

due to the short period of time as her robin and her being constantly reprimanded for her antics, you'd take it in yourself to become closer with her, and she accepts your offer without any complaints. she's also one of your muses for your art and it's a good thing she has a sense of style unlike your brothers who are either too flashy (you had to stifle a laughter looking at the discowing costume) or too dull. damian's fashion sense is good but he's often out during the time period you spend with steph, and even if she often doesn't stay still, you at least hsve someone to talk your ears off whilst you try to sketch the poses she chose.

her obsession towards you stems from your willingness to "match her freak" or whatever internet lingo she finds that day, but she's a fun company to be around! she's always there for you when you need to rant about anything regarding your feelings, especially since you're at the age where you're a teenager and your emotions towards your family would be all over the place and she'd relate the most towards that.

so other than barbara, you'll find yourself speaking up about any concerns you have to steph, and she turns your 'favoritism' towards her her entire personality.

but if you think of even spilling your secrets about a highschool crush to steph or news that someone had asked you out for prom them then spoiler alert! don't. like her mentor, steph will drop signs and clues and your brothers would promptly deal with that. awe, don't worry about feeling alone though or if you weren't permitted to go to your highschool prom because steph and babs will be the ones to convince bruce to throw you your own very elegant gala where you would dance with only your siblings!

see, isn't she so strategic that way? psht, you don't need a boy or a girl acting as your temporary reprieve when your entire family is there for you! steph is here for you and you did technically promise to go out with her today to go shopping so...

it's not that she isn't on your side, no! but you're very much the entire family's baby and she doesn't want you losing your attention on her, definitely not! her goofy personality towards you really does cover her intense urge to be by your side really well. unlike damian, it's not obvious that she's trying so hard to monopolize your time for herself but you're just so fun to be around and she's at her best behavior when it comes to you.

so what's wrong if she ditches her other friends to bond with her beloved sibling? it's not like they'd understand what it's like having someone who actually looks at her for her rather than just the surface level.

don't question why most of the gifts she had given you (which ranges from attires like jackets and shles, to matching bracelets, even little fidget toys) all don a shade of purple and blue! and don't also question why her gallery is filled with cute selfies of you and why your phone's lock screen wallpaper is now suddenly matching with hers.

after all, steph likes making it known that you are her favorite!

cassandra cain, when she first saw you, is, of course, silent. but she makes her presence known quickly after she has enough proof that you've no fight in your body. she may not be the most expressive in words but she is through actions.

you were actually the one who had first approached her after bruce initially introduced you two to each other, offering her a handshake and a greeting in sign language. albeit it being crusty, and her insisting that it's alright if you do the talking, it seems like you were more than willing to learn sign language just for the sake of your new sister and she likes it.

she really, really likes it, appreciates how there were no signs of malice in your movements and just how comfortable you seemed with someone who could potentially end your life with just a snap of her fingers. and yet you treat her like she's not a weapon of murder but rather another sibling who is welcomed into your own world.

you ask her if she wants to hang out with you and steph in your own personal sleepover inside your room and she accepts it because of just how comforting your presence is. it's been so long since she had last felt like she was treated as a human and you were proof that she's glad she never took the path to human carnage like her father intended her to because then she wouldn't meet someone who would soon be so precious to her.

cass may not talk a lot but she is a listener.

a listener to both your words and your body language. it's quicker for her to notice if you ever needed a hug or a catalyst for comfort. she knows your boundaries and when you need space the most. she knows it when you want to open up to her about how stuffy the manor is beginning to feel, how it feels as if they're becoming more sensitive about your social life, how you wish your friends aren't distancing themselves from you because of how intimidating your family is.

and you can say all that to her because cass, alongside duke and sometimes steph, would be the only ones keeping your deepest darkest desires to their grave. although she may not understand your reasonings on why you even felt like your family is coddling you too much (because they're not! they love you very much and she does too) in the first place, she's always the one offering you to hold her hands whenever you're going through a momentary panic attack or a shoulder to lean on whenever dick would scold you for something impulsive you've done.

unlike your neglected counterpart, cass would always be by your shadows, watching every one of your moves and to abide by bruce's order to make sure you wouldn't escape, shall you ever feel rebellious during your teenage years. you may be older than her but she's stronger than you, more experienced and can even combat your dad if she wants to.

yet she always seems to let her guard down when it comes to you because you just seem to have that alluring effect on everybody. can't you understand just how important you are to everybody? you're the most important to her, you're one of the first few people who had treated her like a human so she swears on her life to protect you from harm's way like you did her whenever she's often in a pit of despair.

cass isn't the most expressive, so she makes up for it by instead leaving signs that she really cares for you, or sometimes hiding little trinkets for you to find in your room. it's like her very own message that translates 'cass was here'.

whenever you sit beside her at the dinner table, she always slips in extra food by your plate without you looking or sometimes even filling your glass bottles with extra juice and you'll never know why until you realize that it's her way of telling you to eat more. sometimes, your clothes would go missing until you see your sisters wearing your own collection of jackets and hoodies then swapping them in your drawers for their own— you'd realize that cass got that idea from steph and you can't get mad at her or anybody else as it soon becomes tradition that you'll have an entire closet dedicating to the missing clothes you have that your siblings have replaced to their own attire.

cass really does love you and although she can't always say it out loud, you'll always have a constant reminder instead. as long as you're safe and sound then you don't have to witness the darker sides of her that she hides from you.

then finally, duke thomas. he may have been introduced to you the latest but you could say in terms of every trait, he'd be the brother you'd like to keep close for every situation. your first meeting with him is quite frankly the most normal one of them all, introducing yourself to duke through dinner. although he may be temporarily under bruce's guardianship over anything else, he's incredibly comforting to be around as he's quick to catch on your emotions but unlike the others, he doesn't push you to open up to him, but he won't leave your side at all either.

duke is the only metahuman you're probably allowed to be close with because your dad absolutely refuses you from even trying to talk with the superfamily. and duke heavily prides himself with that information, often secretly showing you his metahuman skills and answering whatever questions you have about them.

like jason, duke wouldn't fully delude himself into thinking you're innocent, that you need to be babied to the point they feel the urge to track even the food you eat— so he's your reliable source for any video games you were forbidden to play or any movies dick would consider too gruesome for you. he's chill, he even sneaks you unhealthy chips once in a while which makes him automatically one of the top in your tier list.

but don't think he's entirely on your side, because whilst duke seems the most normal to you - the only sibling who wouldn't smother you in blankets the moment you accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife - he's also batshit crazy for his own sibling and he'll sacrifice a lot for you two. so if you even dare try to suggest an idea that duke knows would risk not only him, but especially you, then that idea automatically is relayed to your dad and you wouldn't really want your father's gentle scolding anymore.

you can try to find a loophole to go out with him though! if you want to eat batburgers outside then you can do so when he's at his patrol, seeing as how he's the only batkid who does daytime patrol and that's way safer than eating at night, no?

so do expect spending more time with him the most outside, other than with dick and damian, but you'll be forced to sit in the sidelines where nobody can lay their hands on you whilst duke would be busy fighting crime and afterwards treating you to ice cream like he didn't just 'accidentally' and brutally body slammed a criminal into the wall for giving you heart eyes.

'most normal member of the family, my ass' would be the first thing that pops into your mind, but hey! at least you didn't have to be always locked up into the stuffy manor, right...?

at least you get to spend time with all of your siblings and a very loving and attentive father..!

little did you know that the only reason they allowed you out is to give you this false sense of independence, slowly but surely planning for the ultimate day where they truly would lock you up away from the world.

but they just can't help it, you know? the media's greedy hands are starting to take more than they could; so many eyes are on you and danger awaits at every corner in gotham— they can't afford having their beloved being pried away from their arms.

so is it truly a blessing or a curse in disguise? you don't know anymore.

[notanactressyayy]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐬𝐡𝐡... 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x virgin! fem! reader

summary . when she decides to make the move and discovers you had never experienced anything like that ever before, she plans the perfect way to put your fears away and get to see that side of yours for the first time.

warnings . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — implied sexual abuse (from Dreykov), virginity loss, foreplay, nipple play, strap on usage, fingering, multiple orgasms, lots of praises, Natasha's incredibly hot russian.

notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. feedback is highly appreciated! <3

divider credits: @anitalenia

you had been waiting for Nat to come home from the avengers compound all day. she had told you Tony was making some updates on FRIDAY and needed the team's opinion on everything, so she stayed there a little longer than the usual.

you had to admit — it was never the same without her in the house. wearing her clothes didn't help as much as you thought, neither did Liho meowing all day as if telling you she missed her.

so your eyes perked up to the door as you heard the doorknob turning, eyes sparkling at the sight of Natasha. she was smiling.

most of the times she came back from the compound she had bruises and cuts from missions, and looked down and tired. so knowing she had fun with her team made your day a hundred times better. even if it was already midnight.

"hey, kitten," she chuckles and crouches down to pick the cat up as she runs to her, immediately nuzzling against her and meowing. "i missed you too,"

"i missed you too." you say quietly, Natasha's eyes immediately following the voice. she drops her bag on the floor and runs towards you, sitting on the edge of the couch where you laid.

"hi, dorogaya!" she places her hand on your cheek and pecks your lips, coaxing a little sigh out of you. her mouth then travels to your forehead to plant a kiss there. "i'm sorry for making you wait. but it was so fun. all i could think about was coming home and telling you!"

you giggle, seeing her so enthusiastic. you shift to make room for her on the couch and she adjusts herself so you're leaning on her chest now — Liho laying comfortably on both of you. "okay. tell me!"

"so," she begins, taking a deep breath as she became selfconscious about how happy she was. "Ant Man was there, and he was struggling with his pym-particle blasters and he became very very tiny. more than he should. and then, when Tony opened FRIDAY's device, he decided to tease all of us and entered there, tickling the artificial intelligence! she pretended to laugh, and Tony couldn't understand why everything he was trying to do wasn't working."

her laugh was so sweet, so genuine, that a sense of calm washed over you, everything was okay now, you were both okay. and knowing Natasha, having her happy was the best gift you could ever have. your arms wrapped around her neck, and you kisses the tip of her nose. "i'm glad you had a great day with them,"

Natasha's lips parted as she felt the kiss, her gaze locking with yours. she realized she had finally gotten rid of that feeling that something bad could happen anytime. she wasn't alert 24/7 anymore. now, she was home. with you. "i did.. and i have you now."

she carefully picks the sleeping cat and place her on the little bed next to the couch, then returns her attention to you. her hands travel down to your waist, fingertips sliding under the thin shirt you wore. you gulp, fingers tangling in her red locks and pulling her closer.

"i have you, now." you repeat quietly, before crashing your lips on hers.

the russian immediately melts against you, a faint groan echoing from the back of her throat, the vibrations going straight to your core. she carefully lifts you up and pulls you onto her thigh, allowing your weight to rest on her. you usually didn't have make out sessions, since she was with the others most of the time, doing missions. but you wouldn't let that opportunity slide.

the tip of your tongue darts out and licks her bottom lip, a silent plea for something more. she was surprised. she didn't usually see you making the moves. her lips part fully, welcoming your tongue in her mouth, as she returns the action. her tongue mingles with yours, slowly, wanting to make the moment last, but it wasn't enough.

her hand slid up your back, pulling your chest flush against her own. you whimper as the kiss deepens, body shifting and molding perfectly with her. this was getting further than you thought it would.

Natasha broke the kiss with a small gasp, shifting your positions and carefully laying you down on the couch. her body hovered yours, and her lips trailed kisses down your face, your neck. your eyes widened — in surprise, but also in panic.

"Nat," you breathlessly whisper, weakly grabbing her shoulders to hold onto her. her lips didn't stop, only seeming to be hungrier and hungrier for you. "wait,"

"no, krasivaya, (beautiful,)" she mumbles against your skin, pulling your body even closer to her. she didn't want to stop. "just let me, please,"

you take a deep shaky breath to try and calm yourself down. you knew Natasha, and that she'd never hurt you, so this helped. you carefully took her face in your hands, and pulled her head which was tucked on your neck back. she took a great look into your eyes, and frowned. "what's up, baby?"

"nothing, it's just.." you sigh. her eyes narrow for a brief second, then, a small chuckle comes out of her mouth. damn it, she saw the soft pink creeping up your cheeks.

"are you shy?" she inquires, raising her eyebrow. you got relieved as she suddenly got off you and sat on the couch properly, pulling you onto her lap again and wrapping her arms around your waist.

"it's not that." you shake your head and look down, begining to pick on your nails.

it wasn't shyness. you just had a feeling that would lead towards sex. and not that you weren't ready, you just never had it before — other than pleasuring yourself — and Natasha didn't know that fact, until now.

"oh..." she suddenly realizes what's going on. instead of getting angry, a smile tugs on the corner of her lips again. she looks at your face for some good seconds, before wrapping her arms completely around your frame and pulling you to her chest.

that reminded her of all the times she was forced to do something she had no idea of what it was, all the times she felt scared, felt dirty, doing something she didn't want to. god, she didn't want you to feel like that. she never wanted anyone to feel like that, ever.

"are you a virgin, lyubovmoya? (my love,)" her voice sounds extremely calm and tender that it makes you a little surprised. "tell me,"

"yes, yes i am." you exhale and lean your head on her shoulder, eyes fluttering close.

"okay. do you wanna keep it like that?"

that. the question you've been most fearing. usually, if it were anybody else, you'd say no. but Natasha just made you feel so safe, so loved. you wanted to take that step further with her.

"no, i don't."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"just keep 'em closed,"

your soft giggle melts Natasha. her hand covers your eyes as her hand maneuvers you by your hip, inside the bedroom. she had decided to keep everything natural for you this day. no rushed things. but she couldn't be happier. you were trusting her with that.

"did you feed Liho?" you whisper as Natasha carefully places you on a specific spot on the room.

"i'm about to fuck you and you're worried about the cat?" she laughs, making you gasp. you playfully smack her shoulder.

"you!" you smile. her hand gets removed from your eyes. they immediately get dreamy at the sight in front of you.

Natasha was only in a set of lingerie. for the first time ever, you saw her. it was something she thought — in order for you to feel safe, she'd have to show you she felt safe with you herself. because deep inside, she was just another broken, insecure person.

your eyes scanned her body, trying carefully not to stare too hard, seeing the scars and marks that engraved her skin. your fingertips shyly reached for her, and she didn't stop you. in fact, her hands hovered yours as she slid them up her skin.

a quiet 'wow' leaves you, followed by a genuine smile of yours. you pull her closer, looking all doe eyed at her. "you're beautiful,"

"i wanna see you too," she looks down at you. "can i?"

"you can," you hum, raising your arms, a silent invitation for her to undress you.

Natasha's fingertips gently tug at the hem of your blouse, before pulling it over your head. you were the complete opposite of her. smooth skin, no battle scars like hers. she was quick to kneel down and tease the buttons of your jeans, wanting to see if you would stop her or not.

"please, Natasha."

she does as you ask and undo the jeans, letting them pool around you on the floor. she helps you step out of them, and hum as you're both now half naked. everything felt otherworldly romantic and.. safe. even if Natasha was trying her best not to ruin you right there, just by seeing you so soft, so.. vulnerable for her like that. she liked being in control for once.

so your eyes squeezed shut as she suddenly pressed her body against yours and pinned you back against the wall. "shh."

your breath hitches in anticipation, her fingertips slowly tracing up your spine and allowing her palm to rest above the clasps of your bra. Natasha's free hand moves up your stomach, her knee sneakingly trapping you against the wall between your legs. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "let me, malyshka. (baby). i know what i'm doing, just relax."

"mhm," a little whine comes out of your throat, which makes her smile. she nods in encouragement and moves her mouth close to your ear, pressing a kiss on the spot under it.

"ya ne khochu, chtoby ty zhalel obo mne, detka, (i don't want you to regret me, baby,)" she whispers in your ear, and you have no idea of what it means. but something was right — the thin fabric of your panties felt extremely soaked right now. "so, i'll make you feel so, so good."

"please," you wrap your arms around her neck, pressing yourself closer. her skin felt better than you could have ever imagined against your own.

"i'm here." she reassures you, then carefully spins you around and lay you down on the bed. her hand that ghosted over your back undid the clasps of your bra, and tossed it somewhere else on the floor.

you're absolutely sure that it was not the cold air that made you shiver and that got your nipples hard. you gulp, breathing coming out in soft pants as Natasha's hands gently handled you, cupping your breasts as her lips pressed a trail of kisses on the valley between them. "you're gorgeous, my girl."

"you feel so good," you breathe, subconsciously leaning towards her hands. her thumb pinches your nipple as she suddenly latches on you, slowly sucking on your other breast, giving both of them the same attention. "Natasha."

the way you moaned her name, breathlessly like that coaxed a sound of her own. your fingers tangled on her hair to makeshift a ponytail, so her hair wouldn't get in the way. she released your skin with a pop and claimed your lips, kissing you like she never did before — as if trying to pour all the love she had for you in the kiss. you slowly got a handle of the whole thing. you reached up to take off her bra, and yet she didn't break the kiss. only when you got impatient, whimpering as the ache between your legs became unbearable.

"i need you," you murmur, clearing your throat, lips tingling due the intense kissing. "please, Nat. make me yours."

god, yes. she was never letting you go. not before, and certainly not now.

"i will." she says huskily. she moves, so she's straddling one of your thighs, but not putting her weight on you. "tell me to stop whenever you want to,"

her pointer finger put your panties aside and jeez, that was torturous. you didn't want that fabric there anymore. but she was teasing. but that all flew away from your thoughts when you gasped, her middle and ring finger suddenly entering your hole — thumb lazily rubbing your clitoris, all of that with one hand, her other arm resting next to your head to support her weight on the bed. you instinctively reached out to hold her arm, eyes embarrassingly rolling to the back of your head. being masturbated by someone else was so perfectly good, nothing compared to doing it alone.

"oh, my.." you coo, head falling back against the pillow as your breathing quickly got laboured.

"you like that, detka?" she asks, eyeing you down almost possessively, silently promising herself she would never allow anyone to see you like that, touch you like that ever again. she curls her fingers against your g-spot, making you nod desperately.

"yes, yes yes." you gasp once more, biting on your lip and bucking your hips up towards her hand. she could tell you were getting close, you made it obvious. "don't stop,"

"my, my princess. already gonna cum for me?" she gently teases and increases the pace, doing her best to get through your clenching walls — getting another pleasured moan from you. "that quick?"

"i can't.. can't hold it, Nat," your body suddenly shudders forward, shuddering gasps coming out of your mouth as your juices coat her fingers, as they fuck you through your orgasm. it was nothing new, yet sharing it with her was definitely something else. "fuck, fuck.."

"good job, baby." she carefully pulls your panties down and throw them aside, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "that's it. i'm so proud,"

you just laid there, feeling the whole adrenaline from the new experience, letting yourself be pampered by her kisses and praises.

"hold on," your eyes snap open as she suddenly leaves you on the bed and grab something on the closet. you could've never had imagined she had it before, nor that she'd use it with you, in you, someday. a strap on. "i'm not done with you yet."

what was supposed to make you scared, the size, just got you more excited. watching her put it on was the hottest thing you ever saw, made your heartbeat go to the moon and back. and it was already hammering since the start.

"do you want to back off from this?" she whispers, now sounding genuinely concerned. you shook your head, grabbing onto her shoulders and pulling her closer.

"no, no. i trust you." you weakly confirms and she smiles. she takes one of your legs and presses it against your stomach, knee to your chest, revealing your totally drenched cunt to her. she grabbed your hip with the other hand and positioned herself.

the first inches were just fine, but you could saw it did hurt as much as she pushed inside you. you did your best to suppress your groans, but she saw it hurt. she knew it did. "shhh.. just a little bit more."

her stomach and breasts pressed against yours and she leaned her head down close to your own, pressing her cheek against your cheek, nuzzling gently, giving you all the time you needed to adjust to the size.

you felt so.. complete. filled up, by the woman you trusted the most. your arms wrapped around her shoulders when you got ready. you were so lubricated that it didn't bleed, it was just a discomfort that was soon over. "move."

with the green light, all of Natasha's self-restraint disappeared as her hands held your hips, then she began giving you slow, tiny thrusts. to introduce you to the whole thing — which you quickly became addicted.

moans surely echoed on the room when the feeling registered. it was good. it felt amazing.

"go faster," you plea, holding her body tighter to yours as your hips tried and matched her movements.

"so eager," she hisses and quickens the pace, to a point the headboard was already hitting the wall. her strong arms hold you in place as she fucks the little remains of purity out of you. "all mine now."

the tip of the fake cock brushes deeper each time she pounds into you, as you both discover the depths of your body together, as just as this new way of coming you never experienced before.

the familiar pit in your stomach slowly built tighter and got ready to snap, and she recognized that. her hand slid between your sweaty bodies to stimulate your clit a little bit more, and you were sure you moaned a little too loudly.

"Natasha!" your nails dig into her skin, as a toe curling wave of pleasure washes over you, once again.

"that's it, dorogaya," she nods, slowing down and allowing you to savour the feeling, watching you fall apart. your cum soaked the silicone material of the strap on, and honestly, the wet sounds it made got you a little embarrassed.

you weren't aware of your surroundings anymore, only that Natasha leaned her weight on you and held you close, still inside you. she rolled over to pull you on top of her, and stroked your hair, hearing the little moans you made.

"you're so perfect for me.." she coos, carefully pulling out of you, making you hiss as the material dragged across your extra sensitive walls. "you took me so well, my girl."

"thank you..." you mumble, shifting just to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

Natasha didn't want to talk right now. and she wouldn't. she just pulled the blankets over the two of you, giving you time — to feel, to think, to recompose. she sighed, and a wide smile showed on her face. she was glad you couldn't see it, she looked so giddy, so happy and so proud. she did something right. once.

[kooksbunnnn]

HOW WAS YOUR DAY: NAMJOON

Summary: Just namjoon fingering you in his studio as he asks you about your day.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: idol!Namjoon×reader. fingering, squirting, namjoons lap (it's a warning, yes), kissing.

Authors note: I want him. SO BAD. ___________________________________________

"I was uh..I was walking by her when I c-came and she g-gave me such looks-" you try talking as Namjoon’s fingers abuse your clit. He had you sat on his lap, your hands around his shoulders, your hips sat on his left thigh as he spread your legs slightly to fit his hand under your skirt.

"She did?" He asks, you nod whining. His hands work slowly as if he had all the time in the world.

You had visited him at his studio because you missed him. It had been days since you saw him, so you came bearing coffee and food. But as soon as you entered the building, the new recruit in his managing team gave you a dirty look.

You were his girlfriend for fucks sake!

"I wanted to smack her so bad, ohhh my-" you trail as he dips his fingers inside you to gather some wetness getting back to your clit again, rubbing it in faster more precise circles.

You gasp, squirming as he lazily sucks a hickey on your neck while making you see stars.

"So good joon fuck I love your fingers." He hums against your skin, squeezing your waist with his other hand resting against your back while his fingers tortured you back and forth from your climax.

"Did you eat something, love?" You nod, feeling the knot inside you, forming slowly and very gradually. His hands slow down his ministrations, and you whine as you feel your legs shake out of sensitivity.

"Joon-" you breathe out as he smiles proudly at the purple mark he gave you on your neck, marking you as his.

"What did you eat?" He asks with hooded eyes admiring the mark he left while you try to make phrases inside your dizzied head.

"I- some- ah fuck- I had a gimbap with my colleagues, mm-" You words stop with a hitch in your breath as he slides two fingers slowly inside you. You try holding his wrists, but then your hands end up clutching your hair because you feel so good.

"Colleagues, huh?" He says, curling the tip of his fingers slightly to tickle that spot.

"Oh shit right there!" Your head falls back as you feel that spot being rubbed in a way that makes your eyes roll.

"Was Mark there too?" You just gasp as his fingers rub your insides and his thumb rubs your clit from the outside. Your brain short circuiting at the amount of pleasure you're receiving.

You squirm in his hold as his other hand makes you stay still. His tongue licking around your earlobe while his fingers abused the little spongy spot inside you.

"I asked you something, love." his voice was so gentle yet firm, making your mind search for the question he asked. Your brain was too dizzy to think with his thick thighs underneath you along with the hard on he had, so you just moaned, clenching hard around his fingers.

He pulls his hand out and smacks your swollen cunt, shoving his fingers once again. Asking you again, silently.

Was he?

"I dont know, I dont know-" you repeat with a high-pitched whine, your voice echoing and bouncing against his studio walls. You're glad the studio was soundproof, or people might think Namjoon was killing someone in there.

He chuckles mocking your thoughtless face, "so dumb, my baby, look at you, my baby can't answer coz I fuck her open with my fingers huh? My perfect little cocksleeve." You clench hard as he makes you feel smaller by each syllable. You squirm in his hold, making him bite your skin underneath your ear.

"I'm close so close oh-so cl-so-" he chuckles as you babble dumbly, breathing heavily against your ears that it makes your mind wander to how hard he must be right now.

The moment your mind travels to his dick you miss it inside you, you want to feel him inside you, the stretch of his fingers making you miss the way his cock split you open 3 days ago.

3 fucking days.

You think you might die if you dont get fucked by him today.

Your eyes water as you feel your orgasm coming closer, his hard on pressing against the back of your thigh, making your mind swirl with dirty thoughts.

Your fucked out brain getting reminded of the way he pounds you against the mattress, the way he fucked you in his balcony 35 floor above the city. How he fucked you open with his cock in front of his mirror, fingers inside your mouth as he pumped himself dry inside you filling with his warm cum.

His warm cum. Oh god.

"Jesus, you're crushing my hand so hard." He says through his teeth as he feels your thighs tightening around his hand, your face buried in his chest.

He keeps you open to the cold air in the room while his warm fingers plunge deep inside you. Squelching so loudly you wanna hide of embarassment, but you're so close you think you'll go crazy.

When he fastens his pace, he pulls your legs apart by his other free hand, making you spread open for him on his lap. Your other leg now in his hold from under your knee, resting on the table in front of him. You were exposed to the studio walls, making you feel seen.

"Oh god--" you breathe out as he picks up his pace, his stimulation on your clit and the spot inside you constant. You legs shake in his hold and your eyes start tearing up.

"Oh make me cum make me cum please? Please? Oh god please!" You mumble mindlessly, pleading him, requesting him, begging him to make you cum as he coos, his fingers never faltering. Your fingers clutch his hair desperately as you look into his eyes, begging, your eyebrows furrowed as he smiles almost mocking you.

Evil.

"Cum baby, cum whenever you want, make a mess, go on" he says, his breathe heaving in your ears. It's as if he had turned a switch inside you that made you arch your back in his hold. Your cunt squeezing around his fingers as your cum sprays all over his lap. He groans as he feels your walls pushing his fingers out, making him fill you up with his fingers again, making them squelch loudly.

He holds your hips chuckling darkly as you squirt all over his joggers, his fingers fucking you through your high but he needed more so he pulls his fingers out to rub your clit sloppily and you sob.

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you feel your teeth clash as you breathe hard against him. Your body vibrates and thrashing in his hold as he growls against your lips.

"Yeah, good girl," he groans against your lips as you gasp, twitching.

His tongue plunges inside your mouth, and you squeal against his lips, your lips not even moving as you just gasp. Your eyes roll back, your hand clutching onto his neck desperately as his fingers rub your folds, making sure you spill everything you have inside you.

"Thats it thats it, my perfect girl." He coos against your lips, you breathe heavily, tears flowing down your eyes.

You whine, holding his wrists out of oversensitivity, smiling, feeling light-headed.

He smiles looking at you and teases your clit, flicking his index against it. Your body twitches as he does so, just to laugh at how pathetically your body squirms in sensitivity.

"Tch-tch-tch" he mocks you, grinning as your head falls back, his hand cupping your pussy making your eyes roll back. He squeezes, massaging your folds to calm you down.

"You did so good, my baby." He kisses your forehead, caressing your hair. "You okay?" He asks, his voice calming and deep. You nod tiredly.

"Good," he kisses your cheek, "because you're gonna do that again, but on my dick this time," he says, kissing your cheek again, tenderly.

Well, fuck.

___________________________________________

[mywritersmind]

GETAWAY - FC43

summary : An italian weekend getaway with your favorite loving boyfriend. Filled with strawberries and hammocks.

listen up : inspired by @purinfelix ! super sweet and blue vibes

word count : 884

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I yawn, walking down the kitchen and through the doorway that’s wide open, revealing my favorite part of this house. The balcony is long and filled with a couch, hammock, and table, all overlooking the crystal blue ocean. My feet are cold against the wooden floors but the moment I step outside, the sun warms my face.

I smile softly when I see him. He’s in a chair, quietly looking at the water. I wrap my arms around my lovely boyfriend, my coffee and strawberries in my hands still.

“Morning Mi amor.” His strong arms move so his hand is resting over mine, tilting his hair back so his waves brush the side of my face.

He gets a hold of my arm and gently pulls me around him, motioning to sit on his lap. He puts down his mate and welcomes me to sit on him. I put my breakfast down and wrap my arm around him, looking up into the fact I so love.

Franco’s hand goes to my leg, smiling. “Nice shirt.” I look down at what I'm wearing. It’s his shirt actually. A blue and white striped button down paired with underwear to match.

“Thank you!” I run my hands through his hair, messing it up at bit, “I stole it from a very handsome man!”

He tilts his head a bit, kissing my cheek, “He’s a lucky man.” I rest my head on Franco's shoulder. He smells like peppermint and coffee. He snatches one of my strawberries from my bowl and pops it into his mouth.

I breathe in the fresh air, closing my eyes and smiling. “You’re a vision, mi amor.” He kisses me on my lips this time, brushing my hair back softly.

I fell in love with him because of how soft he is. He never rushed me, never yelled. Him and those big brown eyes do everything to love me.

“What are you thinking about today?” I ask, looking out at the water and birds passing ahead as his lips go to my neck, “Farmers market?”

He hums against my skin, not giving any answer. I can’t even be mad at his lack of words because his lips against me and this morning view is anything I could ever ask for.

⋆༺

Our day is slow and peaceful, his hand never leaves mine and as soon as we get back to the house we change. Franco will go along with anything I do and I may be abusing my power a bit when I see our matching pajamas.

I can’t help but giggle at Franco in the blue and white porcelain design, they’re locally made and absolutely gorgeous. I have the pants and top while he seemed far too happy that they had no other pajama top in his size.

It takes approximately twenty minutes for the two of us to get into the hammock without falling out. He wraps his arm around me as I nuzzle into his chest, looking up at the star filled sky.

“I never want to leave.” He says as jazz plays from his phone across the balcony, “Let’s stay.”

I smile and look up at him, “We have to leave. But we can come back anytime.” I kiss his jaw as his hand brushes up and down my arm.

“I love you.” It makes me smile.

“I love you too.” I wrap my arm around his middle, his shirt soft against my skin. I look back up at the stars, feeling complete peace in the cool air, my warm skin, and my boyfriend next to me.

“Those stars look like a dick.” And he ruins it all in one sentence. I groan and he starts laughing, hard, shaking the hammock.

“Franco!” I scream and hold onto him tighter as we swing, “Fran- I swear!”

He's still laughing, his chest moving up and down rapidly under my head. He holds me tighter as we both try to stay still, “I’m sorry!” He laughs, “I’m sorry! You love me! You can’t be mad!”

“You’re the wor-” I go to jokingly hit his arm but when he moves to block me, we flip.

We’re on the floor and laughing seconds later. Franco grabs my face, trying to be serious but still laughing, “Are you okay!?”

Literal tears are coming out of my eyes which he wipes away with his thumbs, still looking at me worriedly. I just laugh again and pull him closer to me, pressing my lips against mine.

He pushes his hand into my hair, “Did you hit your head?” I shake my head and kiss him again, climbing on top of him.

He laughs against my lips, moving his hands to the side of my legs. “Attempted murder!” He says as I gasp dramatically.

“You were the one who made us fall!”

“Oh no!” His hand goes to my head, “You did hit your head!” I hit his arm as he breaks into laughter again and I move back next to him, looking up at the stars from the floor.

He kisses my head and tugs me against him again, “Those stars look like a heart.”

I raise a brow, “No they don’t.”

He shushes me and points, “Just squint.”