#u know... i'm so calm about them...
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accioepiphany · 1 year ago
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Mary Oliver, Oxygen // The Bear 1x03 'Brigade' // The Bear 2x02 'Pasta'
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dimiclaudeblaigan · 2 years ago
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i want ike to be in three houses
for science
#DCB RD Run#y'all know what i'm talking abt if u follow me lmao#ike rly does say all the most perfect shit but most ppl don't even get to see it these days#bc intsys won't make the games accessible and they cost hundreds of dollars for a used copy jfhsagjdg#BUT ALSO this line? REALLY fuckin wish they said to zelgius too with someone anyone even if it wasn't ike#would've been really awesome tho for it to be ike who said it so that zelgius couldn't uwu my teacher his way out of being a villain#what is it with them making ppl be like uwu my teacher and that suddenly make them not a villain fhajgdgsj#like WHERE WAS THIS LINE WHEN IN REBIRTH 2#we had tibarn with us! ranulf! shinon! oscar! SOMEONE could've said it!!!#hecky schemcky if OSCAR said it? that would be like DAMN u fucked UP tho#if OSCAR couldn't forgive you for something? d a m n sonny that one would cut d e e p#but also?! shinon! being calm about it! and just telling him outright! look! nah! you did all that shit! and now you want to uwu us to death#nah! what you did was unforgiveable and you kept doing unforgiveable things!#i mean come on there's a line out the door of ppl who wanted to get or deserved to get revenge on that guy#YES I HAD TO LET IT OUT AGAIN I'M STILL MAD THAT SEPH GOT THE WHOLE NO U DID BAD#BUT ZELGIUS DID ARGUABLY WORSE BC HE DIDN'T DO IT AFTER LOSING HIS ENTIRE FUCKING MIND#AND HAVING HIS ENTIRE FAMILY SLAIN AND HIS FOREST HOME BURNT TO DEATH#LIKE. COME ON. SEPH AT LEAST HAS A LEGIT REASON TO HAVE LOST HIS MIND BUT ZELG?#siiiiiiiiigh. anyway put ike in three houses so he can teach all the dumb stans how to be a proper mc#yeah that's right i said it A PROPER MC#blorbo is in the corner hiding bc he doesn't like these tags. see his bow? see it? it's poking into the pic#ALSO HOW COME REYSON DOESN'T GET ANY LINES WITH SEPH ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENED POST BATTLE#this post has gone in three entirely different directions in the tags good for me good for me
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princekirijo · 2 years ago
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I'm not shocked that they decided to recast for P3R. Imagine if they only decided to recast Junpei. The incel weebs would be up in arms over Vic whatever-his-last-name-was
I'll be honest I have no idea what Junpei's VA did (I heard he did something but I don't know what) so I can't comment on that but like I can't be the only one who's immensely disappointed about this.
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fushitoru · 3 months ago
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seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic
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pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader
summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!
warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)
a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)
general masterlist
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“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”
The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.
Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.
At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”
You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.
But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”
A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene." 
His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in. 
As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”
“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.
“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.
“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”
Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”
“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.
“No, but—”
His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”
He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.
“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”
As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers. 
Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!” 
“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”
Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.
Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.
With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”
To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up. 
“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”
You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.
Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under. 
Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”
In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck. 
a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry 
The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless. 
It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”
“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table. 
“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond. 
A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”
Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?” 
At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm. 
“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.
It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage. 
Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”
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general masterlist
a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P
comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3
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iam-anordinary-human-orami · 2 months ago
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I really want a scene like this in tsc2 where Neil seems to call Jean more often to check up on him and the floozies are perplexed "Why is Josten calling you?" "You guys close or sth?" "You still haven't told us what happened when he whisked you away" "we are worried sick Jean, how can you keep us in the dark?" And then Cat will say sth like "are you not sharing what you're talking to Josten about cause you're embarrassed?" Jeremy being a worried mother hen "is he bothering you?" And Jean keeps shutting everything down telling them not to worry, and then Laila as a joke says "is he flirting with you?"
And Jean responds with "I hope not. I don't think his boyfriend would take it well"
Everyone immediately stops what they are doing. "Im sorry, his WHAT?"
All hell breaks lose. Cat is shaking Laila "Josten is FRUITY?!", Jeremy is like "He has a boyfriend?" Laila being like "in the year that he joined the foxes and almost died in the hands of his serial killer dad, he got a boyfriend??? How???" And then Cat and Laila start asking questions, Jeremy trying to calm them down but also being curious, Jean is like "Well he's not told me explicitly, but it's obvious."
Jeremy having an epiphany "oh my god. Is it Kevin?" Cat in the background "oh please let it be Kevin" Jean says no, "Kevin is too much of a coward", the floozies are looking at each other like "oh we are definitely unpacking THAT at some point". And then they're like okay, well maybe the boyfriend is not on the team. But Jean confirms, it's a fox, i can tell u who it is-' "NO! We need to figure this one out!" "Let our gaydar do the work Jean we got things to prove!" Jean tiredly: "to who?"
So they start guessing, oh Hemmick is undeniably fruity, Jean is like "I don't even know who that is. Oh, backliner? No, not him". "Maybe it's Boyd?!" Cat being like "Escandalo! Cause he's with the captain right? Wilds?" Laila commenting "He'd be out of his mind to pass on that, and this is the educated opinion of a lesbian", Jean is like "how come u guys know all their names?" Jeremy says "they are a small team and it's hard not to keep tabs on them when they are in the news cycle every week or so"
"Guys we're losing track, keep your heads locked in! Who could be Josten's boyfriend, that tonight's pressing question!" "But there's no one else... wait, is he with the other backliner? Short blonde?" "I'm gonna be honest, I don't get queer vibes from him" "Lol can u imagine it's actually the goalkeeper twin" "what the one that went to juvie and looks like hes one step away from biting our heads off on the court? Nahh". Jean looks at an invisible camera like he's in the office.
And then something happens and they forget about it, until like the winter banquet or some shit and Cat is intently looking at Neil trying to decipher who his boyfriend could be, maybe he is in a throuple with Wilds and Boyd? Jean is like "Why are you looking at the foxes' table so intently?" "It's investigative work, don't worry about it" and then Neil comes over and takes Jean away at the open bar to talk about sth, the floozies are pretending to not be looking at them. Neil notices and he's like "I see they taken claim already." Jean responds with "It's not what u think" and they talk, Andrew probably gets bored at some point and goes to Neil, puts a single hand on his lower back and Jean being able to hear commotion in the Trojans table turns to see them acting like "normal", except their poses look rehearsed, there's drinks that have been spilled on the table and Cat is drinking from an empty glass looking at the sky.
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witherby · 1 month ago
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*raises hand* more littlest Wayne please 🥺
You got it!
The Littlest Wayne: Jason's Experience
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You're a weird baby.
At least, that's what Jason thinks. You don't really cry about anything, you don't whine much except when you're maneuvered uncomfortably or rudely woken up from a nap before you're ready. But even then, it's almost a complaint for the sake of complaining, and not really a full-blown fit.
( It's great for allowing your new, vigilante family to sleep through the night. Horrible for their collective paranoia, which makes them get up to check and make sure you're still breathing through the night anyway. )
You're not deaf — Bruce had you taken in for a full examination and health screening while the ink on your adoption papers were still drying — so that's not why you're quiet, either. Aside from being a touch underweight, likely from whoever cared for you before, it seems like you just don't have much to be upset about.
Jason thinks that weird as fuck. Nobody is neglecting you or anything, but there are times where the lack of hunger cues make one of your brothers realize you haven't eaten since breakfast, or that nobody has checked your diaper in four hours and you've just been chilling in a wet nappy. This makes his monitoring of your general well-being increase ten-fold, to the point that he's the one that spends the most time with you aside from Bruce.
Dr. Leslie insists that some babies are just Like That. Alfred does, too. Their lack of concern helps him be less concerned. But it's still there. Surely there's something a baby would cry about; you're a fuckin baby, and that's, like, your primary job besides eating and sleeping.
He finds out that there is, in fact, something to cry about when he comes back from a week-long job as the Red Hood, having needed to leave the Manor to track down a criminal organization quickly gaining traction that he didn't like the looks of. When he wraps up the last of those loose ends, he steps into his apartment in Crime Alley and digs out his personal phone, switching it on to find dozens of messages from Bruce and his brothers.
Replacement: Dude, u need to get back here ASAP when ur done. The babe is straight tweakin
Eldest Daughter Syndrome: Heyyy lil wing 👋 no rush no rush, but swing by when you've got a sec! Our newest member misses you 🍼
Ninja Wannabe: Todd, your presence is required. Father's newest ward is screaming incessantly without you to entertain their mindless brain. I've retreated to Bludhaven to spare my ears until your return.
B: Stay safe, Jaylad. Adjusting to you being gone is a little tough for the baby, as I'm sure your brothers already told you. I just want you to know that there's no obligation to hurry back. They're okay, and the screaming isn't as bad as everyone is making it out to be.
Alfred: Good day, Master Jason. There is an entire batch of double-fudge brownies with your name on it upon your safe return. Best wishes.
You must be screaming the manor down if Alfred is bribing Jason with junk food, let alone a whole tray of it. He hurries out of his armor with half-concern, half-amusement, showers, then speeds off. In less than an hour, he's pulling into the driveway and parking his bike, and Tim was not fucking lying when he texted him.
Turns out it was good that you weren't a huge crier, because you had pipes that put opera singers to shame. When Jason steps inside, the faint, high pitched whines he heard through the door turn into full-fledged wailing. It's just a matter of following it down a couple corridors before he reaches the day room, which was recently repurposed into one of your play areas. He locks onto the image of one very distressed Dick, face flushed and cotton stuffed in his ears as he desperately jangles a set of plastic keys over your body.
"C'mon, baby bat," he croons, sounding near tears himself, "I dunno what you need. Calm down, honey, please."
You lie on a playmat in front of Dick, paying the toy no mind. Your eyes are squeezed shut, tears are running down your cheeks, your face is ruby red, and your tiny fists are clenched as tight as possible as you kick your legs and wail, and wail, and wail some more. It would be impressive if it weren't concerning.
"Whoa," Jason blurts, stepping fully into the room. Dick spots him and slumps with visible relief, like a puppet with cut strings. "They've been like this the whole time?"
"They were completely fine the first day! But next morning, we saw them looking around for you, and...well." Dick gestures helplessly to your thrashing form. Jason tuts and scoops you into his arms, wincing a bit at your shriek, and starts to gently bounce you.
"Hey, there," he mutters, "what's all this now, weirdo? You didn't have me around to spoon feed you gross baby mush or wipe your butt, and now you're making it everybody else's problem? Huh? That's rude as hell."
Your cries continue a little while longer. Jason continues to talk to you, to call your antics silly, to soothe you, until you finally crack an eye open and register just who it is that's got you in their arms. You stare at Jason kinda like he's an alien, brows furrowed and nose scrunched, but then your wails dissolve into sobs, then little hiccups, then just the occasional sniffle. One of your hands unclenches to latch onto his shirt instead, and you mush your face into his chest.
And you just. Completely stop it. Bruce, Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Damian had fallen all over themselves for days trying to soothe you, and a couple minutes of staring at Jason had completely eliminated the problem.
"You gotta move back to the Manor," Dick blurts from where he remained on the floor, wide-eyed and hands clasped together. "Please come back. Please. I am begging. On my hands and knees if you need it. I will do all your chores for the next year. Do not leave again."
"Not my fault I'm the favorite," Jason huffs, but the protective way he holds you, the concerned way he's checking over your face and throat to see if you hurt yourself crying for so long, the continued bouncing he does for you, all points to him moving back home. He makes the arrangements the next day.
And if Jason makes sure future missions he has to go on don't last more than two days, well, that's no one's business but his own.
You're still a weird baby, though. Even if Jason being your favorite is pretty cool.
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creamecafe · 1 month ago
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hii could u write something for Dae-ho set in the mingle game and its basically just him protecting reader and always keeping them at his side. 🫶🫶🫶
"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you"
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Summary: What the request says
Pairing: Dae-Ho x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)
Warnings: fluff, comfort, pining
Word Count:
Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy!
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Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
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It's a miracle that you have made it to the third game. You were sure you were going to die in the second game, but thanks to the team you had, you were more than determined to still stay alive
Out of all them, there was one that you kept looking at. Dae-Ho. You couldn't help but find him cute. This certainly wasn't the place to have feelings as you could die before telling him.
It was the same for Dae-Ho, trying to make sure everyone is ok and that the team survives. But it was something with you.
He felt safe with you, and wanted to protect you. Even if it meant giving his life for you.
The announcement for the third game came, you were worried, but wanted it to be over it. Dae-Ho noticed you being anxious and asked if you okay
"Are you okay?"
You stopped zoning out and looked at him with your heart pounding.
"What? Y-yes I'm ok thank you." Nodding trying to reassure yourself.
"I think this might be the last game I play in." You chuckled knowing deep inside you dreaded the idea
"Hey look at me."
You did as he said. "Don't say that, you have us."
He held out your hand to hold it. You looked at it and hesitated putting your hand out but you held it. A tight squeeze was given but not too rough. It was a sign of reassuring.
He gives you a smile and you did too not of full happiness but someone is here to care about you.
All of you guys were called for the game. You got up and stayed close to Dae-Ho. He looked back at you and nodded. You did the same.
It was the same, climbing up those colorful but dreading stairs to the next game. Every minute or two, Dae-Ho made sure you were right behind him.
You finally reached the game and saw a carousel in the middle with horses and so many doors of different bright colors for a Pre-K setting.
"Welcome to your third game." The woman's voice from the previous games you heard came on the speakers.
"The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."
Turning your head to look at Dae-Ho, he's already looking at you.
You quickly look away not to make the situation worse. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable as well.
"All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."
"Oh this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging." Jung-bae exclaimed.
"Yeah. Instead of hugging, we go into those rooms" Dae-Ho mentioned.
"If the number is bigger than six, we'll get the additional people we need." Gi-Hun
And if it's less than that? You thought in your mind
"But what if it's smaller than five? Like three or four
You turned your head to Dae-Ho. It's like he read your mind exactly.
"No matter what happens, don't panic. Let's stay calm," Young-il nods. "We'll make it out together. Here."
Those words echoing in your mind, there wasn't enough time to doubt if your group would stick with you.
You've seen how quickly people are to turn against each other especially in the Red Light, Green Light.
But you're more than determined to stay alive, just to see Dae-Ho's face every chance you get.
Young-il puts the back side of hand out to form a truce. One by one, everyone is putting their hands on top of each other. You were the last one.
"Y/N. Are you in?" Gi-Hun asks.
Dae-Ho looks at you with worry in his eyes. You had no choice and no knowledge of trusting others in this game, so you put your hand out on top.
Dae-Ho becomes relieved at this.
"One, two, three. Victory at all costs."
Sighing at this with relief, you guys begin to spread out. The carousel is starting to spin
People scream out in fear. Lights go out and the light in the middle where horses out lights ups and music plays.
Children are singing about holding hands and ringing around.
Dae-Ho holds your hand lightly. He grazes your hand with his thumb. You don't look at him, as you fear you'll die doing so.
It suddenly stops. The number is 9. People are running out frantically pairing in groups of 9. Dae-Ho doesn't let go of your hand.
"We need 3 more." You said. Your group ran looking for 3 more.
A old lady, her son and another woman goes up to you guys.
"Are you guys 3?" Young-il asks
"Yes we're." The old lady nods frantically.
"Quickly we got to get into a room" Gi Hun exclaims
Your feet were starting to move, but the grip of Dae-Ho holding your hand made you move even faster.
All of you guys rushed into a room and closed the door. The room was filled with heavy breaths. There was a click on the lock meaning that the room was closed and nobody can get in or out.
Right now, you have never been more grateful to be alive in playing a game
It wasn't long before you heard gunshots, and it was safe to assume it was those who didn't pair up or get into rooms in time.
Now that you're safe, you look at Dae-Ho and he does too.
"Is everyone ok?" Dae-Ho asks
There was a lot of yes. That answer might change throughout the game seeing how long each of us might last.
The door lock clicked and you guys were allowed to come out. There were bodies on the floors and blood splattered. "Take off your mind off those bodies or you'll be one of them" Your mind was telling yourself.
"We got this" Dae-Ho talks to you
"We do" You smiled. Don't know how many smiles it will take to keep going, but you're ready to prove his point.
The game started again and the carousel spins. You hold out to Dae-Ho's hand.
Now the number was 4. Young-il grabs Jung-Bae and goes to find two more people. That's left Gi-Hun, Jun-Hee, Dae-Ho and you left.
There was no time to waste. All four you ran to a room and locked yourself in. Gi-Hun was looking around for Young-il. You pulled him back in.
The gunshots came again. The lesser the number, the more likely people will betray each other.
How long this game will last, you don't know. All you know is that you have people here to help you. Even if it's just one person, it makes all the difference.
The doors clicked and it was time for another round. The panic and adrenaline of it all keeps coming back. But Dae-Ho is making sure you're by his side, even if he may die in the game as well.
Six the group was. Dae-Ho said you and him were going to go and find another group. Luckily you did and you managed to still be alive locked in a room.
Now it all came down to the very last game. There were less people than the game started. You wanted to finish this for once and for all. While the carousel was spinning and music playing, you place yourself in movement ready to run and holding Dae-Ho's hand.
"2" The voice said.
It felt like time was going slow once it announced the number. Everybody is rushing to get into a room. Time's running out.
You felt a hand pull you back and you fell to the ground. Dae-Ho heard your scream and saw someone trying to stop you from going into a room. Someone else was already in the room that you guys were planning to go into.
Dae-Ho could go into the room and that would already make it two. But he's made it too far to leave you.
He ran and punched the guy that pushed you. He put you back on your feet and dragged the other guy out. He slammed the door shut and the timer just came to zero. The guy on the other side begs and bangs on the door.
A pink guard shoots him and the noises stop.
"Are you ok?" Dae-Ho rushes to you.
Still shaken at what happened, at the fact you almost died if it wasn't for him to save you, you nodded.
"Yes I am. Thank you."
There was a moment of silence between you too as you were catching your breaths.
The door clicked and you both came out.
"Y/N! Dae-Ho!" Both of your names were being called
Gi-Hun, Young-il, Jung-Bae and Jun-Hee run up to you guys and you all hug each other.
"I'm so glad you guys are ok." Jun-Hee smiles
You're also relieved that everyone else is fine and made it out alive. You could return back to the dorms.
Walking down back the stairs and into the dorms, everyone was mostly silent but some talked.
You ran up and tapped Dae-Ho on the shoulder.
"Hey Dae-Ho?"
"Yes Y/N?"
"You could have gone into the room where the other guy before you dragged him out, why didn't you?"
Dae-Ho took a pause before responding.
"I have lost many people when I was a marine, seen people get killed in front of me. I can't let it happen to you."
He starts to become close to you but not too close.
"As long as I'm still alive, I'll make sure you're fine. That's a promise I tend to keep Y/N."
Those words stuck with you. You could die in the next game, but right here at this moment is a reason to keep going.
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Taglist:
@hobinistaworld
Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Kang Dae-Ho Masterlist | Join my taglist!
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judyvan · 5 months ago
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No Hands - Chris Sturniolo Fanfic
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。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Summary: After picking on Chris for being an extremely touchy person, the two of you make a bet. Will Chris be able to control himself long enough to win?
Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ chrisxfem!reader/ bf!chris/ unprotected p n v (use a fucking rubber)/ oral (fem receiving)/ touchy! chris x needy! reader/ competitive! chris/ use of "you"/couldn't tell ya how many words
A/N: Time for a Chris fanfic! I am still new to writing, so bear with me. The song loosely relates to the fic. Interactions are appreciated! Pls don't steal my shit. Thx!💋
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
"Keep your filthy fucking paws off of me," Nick says pushing his brother, Chris, away from him. Chris had wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulders as the two of them spoke.
Your boyfriend Chris is probably the most physically affectionate person that you know. He is always eager to touch those he cares about the most. Whenever it comes to you, Chris loses all self-control. He needs to be touching you in some way at all times; like he'll go insane without the feeling of your body against his in some way, shape, or form.
"You have got to be the touchiest motherfucker that I know, seriously," Nick continues, dusting the remanence of Chris' hands off of his shoulders.
"Shut up," Chris chuckles, pushing Nick backwards.
Nick looks up shocked. His eyes move back and forth from yours and Matt's, Nick and Chris' other brother. You and Matt begin to laugh uncontrollably.
"Please tell me you two fucking see this. I mean this is absurd! Even when I ask him not to touch me, he touches me. It's crazy!" Nick states completely dumbfounded.
Chris is laughing along with you and Matt. He begins to walk towards Matt, reaching out to grab his arm as he loses control of his body.
"Don't bring that shit over here," Matt says out of breath, wiping the tears from his eyes, failing to reel himself in.
Chris looks at you through squinted eyes. You simply open your arms as he walks towards you. He knew that you wouldn't turn down his touch. Chris stands in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck, laughing profusely into your skin.
"Can we please talk about this?!" Nick begins, still completely shocked. "I have never seen anything like this. Like he actually needs to be studied. He has always been "touchy feely", but ever since he got a girlfriend, it has multiplied by a gabillion." The room is still filled with the laughter of Chris and Matt, yours no longer producing noise.
"I mean seriously, I feel so bad for you. I can guarantee that you never get a fucking second to just breathe!" Nick exclaims.
You somehow manage to catch your breath and gain composure.
"It doesn't bother me. I've gotten used to it," you reply, rubbing your hand up and down Chris' back, attempting to calm him down.
Nick releases a scoff, letting you know that he doesn't believe you.
"Anyways, back to what I was saying," Nick begins shaking his head. He's looking at you, the only one stable enough to understand him. "Me and Matt are going to the store; do you want us to get you guys anything; besides some fucking giggle juice?"
"No, I think that's all we need," you reply, letting out a small laugh. Your whole body is now shaking at the intensity of Chris' reaction to Nick's last statement.
"Alright, we will be back in a few hours," Nick says, practically dragging Matt out of the door, him and Chris continuing to crack up.
The door shuts and Chris is eventually able to control himself. He pulls his head out of your neck and looks in your eyes, a huge grin spread across his face.
"Let's go to my room and find something to do until they get back," Chris says, his fingers running up and down your sides. You meet his lips with a short peck.
"I've got something in mind," you say smirking at him.
The two of you walk to Chris' room, holding hands of course. You have been trying to convince Chris to watch all of your favorite movies and now is the perfect time to start. Chris turns on the movie, "Five Feet Apart," and the two of you lay in his bed. As the film goes on, you can't help but think about what Nick was saying earlier. You are now very observant of how often Chris asks for a kiss or squeezes you tighter. When he gets up out of bed to grab a drink, you begin to laugh out loud at your own thoughts. Chris comes back into the room as you're laughing uncontrollably, trying to think of any moment he has spent any amount of time without physical contact.
"What the fuck is so funny?" Chris asks, taking a sip of his Pepsi as he stands in his doorway.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed to face your boyfriend.
"I was just thinking about what Nick was saying. I genuinely cannot think of a time that you went 5 minutes without touching me," you say.
Chris smirks and shakes his head. He begins to walk closer to you.
"Do you really think that I touch you a lot?" he asks, taking another drink.
"What do you mean think? You can't keep your hands off of me," you let out a small laugh.
"Yes, I can," Chris states in a cocky manner. "You touch me just as much as I touch you." He sits his drink down and gives you a smug look, stepping closer to you.
"Fine then. Let's make a deal. Until Nick and Matt get back, we have to keep our hands to ourselves. You can't touch me, and I won't touch you," you flick your brow up as you propose the idea to Chris.
"And why would I do that?" he says, laughing at your playfulness.
“To prove a point.”
Chris looks around the room for a second, thinking about what you said.
“How about we make this a little bit harder, since Nick and Matt aren't here,” he says, an arrogant look on his face. Chris bends down to whisper in your ear. “How about I do some things that make it harder for both of us to keep our hands off of each other.”
He then places an open-mouthed kiss to the spot right behind your ear. He tugs lightly on the bottom of your earlobe before pulling away. The combination of his warm breath, wet kiss, and teeth pulling on your skin, sends a feeling of arousal throughout your body. Chris looks at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly able to see what he's doing to you.
"And why would I that?" you say, mocking him. Chris' eyes trail up and down your body, not missing a single curve.
"If I win, I get to touch you anywhere I want, wherever I want, anytime I want for a week, and you don't get to say shit to me about it." Chris runs his tongue across his bottom lip as he finishes his sentence. Just the thought of having any part of you at his fingertips whenever he pleased made him grow hard.
"And if I win," you start, noticing the tent forming at the crotch of his pants, " I get to wear as little as I want, whenever I want, and you can look all you want, but you can't touch, for a week." You smile up at Chris, seeing him picture you in the smallest article of clothing in his head.
"I think you've got yourself a deal," Chris says, moving even closer to you.
You lift off of the bed slightly, sliding your hands underneath of your ass, pressing them into the bed. Chris places his hands on the bed, one on either side of your hips. Your lips connect almost immediately, the two of you aching to touch now that you can't. The kiss is deep and passionate, the both of you long for more. You remove your hands from underneath you, pulling off the shirt and pants you're wearing. Chris' lips leave yours and meet your collarbone without hesitation. His hungry kisses across your skin deepen your desire for him to touch you. Chris has seen you in a bra and underwear plenty of times. Removing your clothes doesn't seem to faze him much.
"This is too easy," you say, a smile spreading across your face. Your hands reach behind your back and unbuckle your bra. You drop it on the floor, scoot away from Chris, and lay down on the bed.
Chris stands up completely. His eyes roam over your entire body, lingering on your breasts. Lacking a good poker face, Chris' expression confirmed that you just made things 10 times harder for him, in multiple different ways. He tugs at his bottom lip as he soaks in the amount of skin you have exposed.
"That's not fair," he laughs, his eyes touching every part of your figure that his hands should be feeling.
Chris removes all of his clothes, only leaving his boxers. Your eyes trail over his body. Your eyes widen when you see the bulge in his underwear. A small chuckle escapes Chris' lips at your face. His eyes never leave yours as he removes his underwear seductively, his entire body now on display.
"Now we're even," he says. Chris moves across the room and climbs on top of you, careful to keep both of his hands on the bed.
The air chills your uncovered body. Chris' lips only momentarily heating the areas that they touch. It isn't enough. You need his hands on you. Messy kisses are placed all around your frame as he travels down you. After reaching the waist band of your underwear, Chris moves directly to your inner thighs, devouring them. Your hips begin to buck upwards, wanting his mouth on the place covered by soaked fabric.
"Take them off," Chris says placing a single gentle peck to the front of your underwear.
You shake your head while biting your lip. You earnestly wanted his hands on you and refused to help him out any longer.
"You do it," you said, your heart racing.
"I'm not losing this bet," he responds placing a gentle kiss to either side of your pelvic bone. Suddenly, his tongue slides under the left side wing of your underwear. He pinches the material between his teeth and slides one side of your underwear down to your thigh. He slowly moves to the right side of your body and performs the same motion. His intention is to draw this process out as long as he can, hoping you'll cave. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. As soon as one side reaches your ankle, you begin to shake them off yourself, flinging them into the floor.
"Someone's impatient," Chris smiles. He knows you won't last much longer.
His head dives between your legs, his tongue licking up the need that is dripping from you. You let out a whimper, gripping onto the bed sheets, miserably trying to keep your hands busy. Chris' tongue splits you in half as his nose applies pressure to your clit. He begins to speed up his motion, his tongue now forming small circles around your most sensitive area. Your legs begin to squeeze inward, Chris' head between them acting as a magnet. You can't help but squirm, the intense feeling of pleasure taking over your body. All of your movement is making it difficult for Chris. He is unable hold your legs down, forcing them to stay put.
"If you don't stop moving, I'm going to have to stop," he says, momentarily pulling his lips off of you.
Your moans get louder as Chris proceeds to eat you out. Your legs begin to shake as you attempt to keep from moving, not wanting him to quit. His tongue slips inside of your opening. Your back arches off of the bed. He begins to eat you as sloppily as he can, wanting more than just his tongue to be inside of you. Your toes start to curl. He begins to shake his head back and forth, his tongue flicking in all directions, only stopping to suck on your ball of nerves. You cling onto the sheets for dear life. You're starting to get close. Don't do it. Your hands lose their hold on the bedsheets and find themselves in Chris' hair as you practically levitate off of the bed.
"Oh fuck!" you scream, on the edge of release.
Chris pulls away from you. You did touch him after all. Suddenly his eyes meet yours from in between your legs. His thumb brushes over his lips, gathering all of your remnants before sucking them off of his skin.
"I win," he says with a cocky smirk.
In a swift motion, Chris grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, plunging himself inside of you, burying his dick as deep in your walls as possible. As he thrusts in and out of you frantically, his hands touch every part of your body, making up for lost time. The two of you moan loudly at the feeling of him touching you inside and out. It doesn't take long before your stomach clenches and you reach your orgasm, Chris' warm cum coating your insides at the same time. As the two of you ride out your high, your hands continue to feel every part of each other. Chris slumps on top of you, wrapping his arms around you, and burying his face in your chest. Your arms embrace him, pulling him closer. After a few moments of relishing the feeling of you both on top of one another, Chris leaves your body to grab a towel and pull on his clothes. As he cleans you up, he makes sure to touch you in every way he can. He throws the towel on the floor and grabs your clothes, insisting on dressing you as well. He starts with your underwear and pants, wanting to see you topless as long as possible. Before putting your bra back on, he takes your breasts in both of his hands and squeezes, kissing you tenderly.
"You better get used to that," he says, pulling away from your mouth and sliding your bra on. "I've got a whole 7 days to do that whenever I want."
For the next week, Chris took as much advantage of his prize as possible. When meeting up with his family he would hug you as long and hard as he could. When around his brothers at home, he would palm your ass with both hands, squeezing roughly and kissing you with passion. Even when hanging out in public settings with your friend group, you would find at least one of his hands wandering from your thigh and meeting the sweet spot in between your legs.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
To see how Chris takes advantage of him reward in more detail, click here to read: 7 Days (“No Hands” Extension)
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hellsslibrary · 1 month ago
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Sae + feminization and breeding kink please I need it
You can make him an omega too if you want
"Come on, dude. Skirts were originally made for men, they rock them way better than girls..."
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MASTERLIST is here.
#a.n. : THIS WAS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN. If anything, for the script I took that extra scene where they assumed Sae was a crossdresser, but if he really was and that makeup bag wasn't from Aiku's ex, yeah. So you can imagine that picture of Sae.
!!Warnings: crossdressing, light feminization, breeding kink (obviously), top!reader, bottom!Sae, no dom/sub boundaries, but Sae is a little more dominant if you choose (sorry, power bottom Sae world domination), praise and worship, riding, thoughts about what Sae would be like if he were a girl, but they're not serious, at the end Sae puts lipstick on your lips because I thought it was cute.
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The soft rustle of the sheets, Sae's almost inaudible sighs, your moans, the slight groaning of the bed and the slapping of bodies against each other echoed in the large bedroom. Your eyes were fixed on Sae's calm and contented face as he slowly rode your cock.
His damn long eyelashes were even more visible because of the mascara on them, his lips were tinted with cute pink lipstick, and his cheeks were blushing not only from your actions with him. There were gold earrings in his ears, as well as a small necklace around his neck. On his torso was your shirt, which was not buttoned up, and on his hips was a regular pleated skirt and fuck... It was the hottest view in the world.
"So... What were you angry about when you came?" you ask, breaking out of your thoughts about admiring the perfect man on your cock, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you.
"I'm not angry, just a little disappointed. This infantile striker from the U-20 was rummaging through my bag... Found makeup there," Sae says evenly, interrupted by a light sigh from his lips as your hips slightly moved up during his bouncing. "They put it down to the fact that I have a girlfriend or something. It doesn't matter, don't think about it."
"You? A girlfriend? Funny..." you giggle, squeezing his waist tighter, which is why he started pushing on your shaft a little harder, pressing his hips on you. "When you reveal our relationship, it's obviously... Will make them disappointed? What should people think in such a situation? I don't know."
"I'm telling you, don't think about it. Even if they thought it was mine, it doesn't matter at all," Sae shakes his head at your thoughts, tightening his grip on your chest, leaving red marks from his nails there.
"Mmm, what do you think you would look like if you were a girl? Well, I mean, your breasts... I think it would be small, it would suit you. Maybe A-cup? Maximum B-cup..?"
"Idiot, what are you thinking about? If I were a girl, nothing would have changed... You just wouldn't get out of my cunt," the midfielder whispers, frowning slightly, moving his hips in a circular motion and then shrugging his shoulders. "But I think so. Small breasts sound logical. You are gay, why are you having such thoughts?"
"I don't know... You'd be such a queen... You're still the queen, though," you chuckle, lightly pressing on Sae's lower back, making him arch back, admiring his slender but muscular curves.
He just raises an eyebrow at these words, but doesn't pay attention to them, closing his eyes again and just focusing on how your cock feels inside him.
But your eyes didn't close for a second. How could they when a literal deity was riding your dick? Exactly, no way. You tried to absorb his every reaction, the way his breathing hitches, the way his hips twitch, the way his eyelashes flutter, the way he bites his lip to hide his moans, all of it.
You would literally worship this body without ceasing, if it were physically possible, of course. He would kiss every inch of you, come up with the most original and romantic epithets just for him, just for the beautiful man in front of you.
"Sae?"you ask carefully, looking at him, and his only reaction is to mumble. "You like it when I'm in your bussy, right?"
Sae's eyes immediately open and he stops his movements, looking at you with such a disapproving look that even your cock inside Sae moves from humiliation... Or something else.
"What is it... Bussy?" He's asking, even though he clearly doesn't want to know the answer to that question, judging by your face, which is red with shame and obvious excitement.
"Pussy. Man's. Like a boy plus a pussy and you get a bussy..."
Sae just blinks slowly at your explanation, and then sighs as expected. After all, what did he expect from you? And he resumes his movements, making you whimper softly at the feeling of him squeezing around you.
"Yes, I like it," he whispers confidently, flicking your nipple, which makes you blush even more, but you're clearly smiling contentedly, and then you raise yourself up on your elbows and kiss him.
The elder Itoshi just sighs, but puts his hands on your shoulders, responding with a kiss, which is why most of you have to push into him obviously not rhythmically, given the not particularly comfortable position, but it doesn't matter. The way his lips slide against yours and you feel the faint taste of chocolate from his lipstick, the way he moaned softly into your mouth was enough.
He pulls away first when he notices that you're whimpering from lack of movement and gently pushes you back onto the pillows, eyeing you. A barely visible smile suddenly appears on his face, only the corners of his lips turn up.
"Sae, why are you smiling, hmm?" you ask, rubbing his sides, thinking maybe he's amused by your impatience or something, but the next second he grabs your chin, grabbing something from the bedside table and opening it.
"You look good with my lipstick," he whispers, carefully smearing the lipstick on your slightly moist, pouty lips, and then pulling away, slowly running his thumb along the edge of your lips, where his own lipstick smeared after the kiss. "You also obviously enjoyed the taste, no?"
"If you were on my face, it would be even better... Mmm!" escapes your lips, but Sae just snorts and kisses you again, grabbing your chest and slightly accelerating his hips, swallowing your moans with pleasure.
"You're going to be an even better boy and make me cum, and I'll think about it, okay?" Sae asks, whispering it into your lips, narrowing his gaze when he looks at your lust-clouded eyes, and after your quick nod, he just kisses you gently on the cheek.
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canthelpit0 · 10 months ago
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“We’ll figure it out”
Pairing: Inexperienced!Matt x Inexperienced!Reader
Wordcount: 5.9k +
Summary: what happens when you hook up with your long time best friend? Except both of you are virgins.
Warnings: Smut, nasty, language, use of y/n, pet names (pretty boy, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc), reader has a cat named sun, study session, oral m!receiving, brief crying, oral f!receiving, praise kink, fingering, cowgirl, no protection (wrap it up!), she’s not on BC, creampie
(A/N: English is not my first language. So sorry for any mistakes. Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy xx)
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You have known the triplets since middle school, and you’ve been close to all of them.
Well, especially with Nick.
Everything was fine, you weren’t too popular, but you also weren’t overlooked. you were middle class, not poor but also not rich. You were pretty, but never got too much attention because of it.
Little do you know, but you’re gorgeous. If you wanted to you could easily be one of the popular girls in school. But you didn’t care for it. High school was temporary, and you knew that.
And that’s exactly what Matt admires about you.
Matt is pretty introverted, and especially around freshmen year, you and his brothers would quite literally have to force him to go to school.
Now he was more calm though. Sometimes his anxiety would mess with him, but he overcame it with you and his brother's help.
For the fact that you’ve only known them since middle school, you went over to their house quite a lot. But sometimes they’d come over to yours as well.
Matt was a virgin. Most people would think that. He’s awkward in social situations and pretty shy and introverted before you get to know him.
Though, he’s had a short-term girlfriend before. Wich, at least was something.
You never dated anyone. You never cared to. You’d much rather focus on your friends and school, than some boy.
You were a virgin. It wasn’t like you never watches porn, or were innocent really. You just never got to the point of losing it to someone. Everything you’ve done was by yourself.
Wich would be fine. But you were in senior year now, and the year was almost over. Most people around you had already lost it, and you felt left out.
You were sitting at lunch, listening to Chris drone on and on about some girl he hooked up with. You purse your lips, your apatite disappearing more and more.
Suddenly Chris looks over to you. “Y/n how was your first time?”
You tense up, Taking in a harsh breath.
“Chris! You don’t just ask shit like that” Nick huffs hitting Chris on the arm.
Matt, who was sitting next to you, puts his hand on your thigh in comfort.
You squint your eyes at Chris, judging him. Or at least you try to make it look judgy.
You lean further into Matt’s side. His physical presence was keeping you grounded.
And when matt noticed just that, he takes his hand off of your thigh and instead wrapped it around your waist to pull you even closer.
“That’s none of your business.” You huff staring back at Chris.
But internally you were embarrassed because you were still a virgin.
★ ★ ★
You had planned a sleepover and study night with matt a few days ago. Essentially, he’d come to your house on Friday, and you would study. until you got tired of it and watched a movie or something.
So after school matt drove his brothers home and then drove to your house.
You got out of the car, watching as Matt reached into the backseat to grab his overnight bag.
You couldn’t help but think back to lunch break when Chris had made that comment. Chris was a player, and you knew that.
But everybody around you had lost their v card, and you just felt so left behind.
Matt huffs snapping his fingers in front of your face. You blink. He takes the keys out of your hand, grabbing your forearm to pull you to the door.
“You back with me y/n/n?” Matt ask. He looks over his shoulder as he blindly fiddles with your house keys.
“Yeah, sorry. zoned out.” You answer simply.
Matt chuckles at the flat response. He looks back at the door and finally twists it open. You two both walk in, both of you taking your shoes on.
“Hello, we’re back” Matt says loudly into the room.
You put on your house shoes and so does Matt.
You look over your shoulder at Matt with an amused expression. “Matt they already left” you huff.
“What? I thought they were gonna leave at 4?” He asks, pulling out his phone from his jean's back pocket.
It’s 4.26 pm
“Oh.” He says flatly staring at his screen.
Your parents had driven out for the weekend to your grandparents house. It was a few hours away. You hadn’t wanted to go, because for one you had already made plans for the sleepover with Matt.
And also because you had the test on Monday and you wanted to study the weekend away.
You were probably not going to anyway, but in theory..
“Yeah. oh.” You roll your eyes. Your siblings went with your parents so the house was empty. It’d be the perfect opportunity for a house party.
But you weren’t one to party, and your parents trusted you.
You and Matt walk to your kitchen. Well, it’s just matt trailing behind you.
“You want a drink?” You ask simply while you take out a Pepsi can for yourself and then put it on the counter nearest.
Matt comes up behind you. He looks over your shoulder scanning the contents of the fridge.
“Pepsi please,” he says under his breath.
You take out another can and then proceed to put it next to your can on the counter.
You slam the fridge door shut. You feel Matt turn you around before he’s hugging you. His arms wrap around your waist as he buries his face in your neck.
Matt had always been a big softie. No matter how much he loves to deny it he loves hugs and being all sappy and shit.
His own love language was acts of service though. He’d do anything for someone he likes.
And so if he finds a song that reminds him of you, he’ll tell you. If you are hungry, he’s immediately googling places to eat. If you look slightly sad or upset, even though you just have a resting bitch face, he’s immediately doing something stupid to make you laugh.
You know each other in and out.
He knows you love physical touch. So he’d make it a point to hug you at least once a day.
The day was long and draining. It was a normal boring school day.
His hug is warm, his arms feel firm around you.
And despite not having known him since kindergarten or something, it feels like you’ve known him forever.
You can’t think of any future scenario without him in your life.
“You always smell so good” he mumbles, dramatically nuzzling his face into the side of your neck.
You chuckle at the compliment.
“Come on pretty boy, we gotta study.” You hum slightly pulling away. Matt dramatically groans in response but reluctantly pulls away.
You pick up the two Pepsi cans and start to walk back to the stairs.
Matt grabs both of your school bags and carries them upstairs with him.
Once you’re in your room you pull out your desk chair and sit down.
Matt puts both your backpacks against the wall. He walks towards the bed to sit down when he spots your cat.
“Sunny” he exclaims excitedly. As much as Matt would love to say he’s a dog person. He loves your cat.
She’s and orange Persian cat. Her hair is fluffy and long. She looks like a ball of hair all curled up in your bedsheets like that.
You look over to matt and your bed. You watch as your cat looks up at him and he coos at her. He slowly sits down and starts to pet your cat.
★ ★ ★
By now two hours of studying had passed. You were both now sitting on the floor on your carpet, the study material all sprawled out across from you.
You and Matt were sitting next to each other, your cat still sleeping on your bed.
“Matt I’m bored” you whine loudly. You throw your head back dramatically and groan.
Matt looks over at you watching you as you complain. He looks mildly agitated himself.
Before he can protest and tell you that you two need to continue studying you start to put the pages and books on top of each other.
Once no books and loose papers are sprawled out anymore you sit back again.
“Y/n” he rolls his eyes and you can feel the lecture incoming.
“Matt please, I’m literally about to die of boredom.”
“You’re so dramatic” he scoffs watching you.
And for a moment You two just look at each other. Neither of you say anything. You just stare. Your face relaxes out of the pout. Matt looks over your features like he’s admiring you for the first time. Like you’re a piece of art.
You can feel yourself start to grow hot. The tension in the room skyrockets.
“You’re so pretty you know that,” Matt says under his breath. Matt leans over on his arm leaning closer to you.
Your mind is blank, and you can’t come up with an answer. You just take in the compliment.
“So fucking gorgeous” he sighs and before either of you knew it his lips are on yours.
You freeze for a second your eyes wide. But like it’s an instinct you immediately kiss back.
Matt’s hand finds its way to your jaw holding you in place, while he tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss.
You were sitting Chris-cross while Matt was sitting on his legs, sitting just a bit higher than you.
After a while of just innocently kissing, he pulls away. You two stay close though. His eyes instantly widen as if he knew he fucked up.
“Fuck- I’m sorry” he breaths out, taking his hand from your face.
You sit up. Uncrossing your legs. you shift to sit on them, fully facing a blushing Matt. And you’re sure you have a matching red hue on your cheeks as well.
“No.”
the statement catches Matt off guard. He immediately looks back over at you, confused.
As soon as he looks back over at you, you reconnect your lips with his. He sighs into the kiss. His open mouth grants you the opening you need as you swiftly slip your tongue into his mouth.
You’re a virgin. That doesn’t mean you’re fully inexperienced tho.
You two make out heavily for a while. Making out like you’re trying to feel every part of each other.
Somehow you ended up in a position with you straddling Matt, as he has his legs sprawled out.
You pull away, both of you breathing hard.
“Y/n..” Matt starts his voice shaky.
He averts his eyes, the blush on his cheeks and even deeper red than before.
“I’m a virgin” he admits under his breath.
You thought for sure that Matt wasn’t. You were. But you also never dated anyone. Matt used to have a girlfriend though. But he’d never done it?
“Like fully?” You ask out of curiosity.
But it wasn’t like you wanted to use him. You liked him for being, himself. His presence made you flustered, feeling butterflies in your stomach, and all giddy.
“Yeah” he breaths out. You watch him close his eyes as if willing his embarrassment to leave. “I’ve never, done anything..”
You pause thinking of the best way to reply. “Neither have I.” You say softly, feeling mildly flustered as well. But both of you were inexperienced. You were in the same boat.
He pauses for a second at the reply. It was obvious that he thought you at least had one body. He didn’t think you were a virgin too.
“You… you wanna try?” He questions. Now he looks a lot less embarrassed than he did just a few seconds ago.
You bite the inside of your cheek. “If you want to?”
He pulls you back in for another kiss by the back of your neck. The kiss is shorter and more reassuring.
Matt pulls out of the kiss his hands going to your waist “We can figure it out?” He asks hopefully.
You nod in agreement. You could feel Matt’s bulge through his pants with the way you were sitting. And you could feel yourself aching.
What’s the harm in trying. He’s your best friend after all. Besides you’d finally lose it, and to someone you trust.
You peck his lips briefly before you get up off of his lap.
Matt gets up off of the ground too. You pick up your cat and wake her in the process. She meows at you in annoyance before you chuckle and put her on the ground.
Matt opens the door as Sunny finally but reluctantly leaves the room.
You pull off your shirt tossing it away. Matt turns around to see you sitting on your bed with your top discarded, your bra in full view. His eyes widen.
He licks his lips, his eyes shamelessly tracing your body.
Matt comes to hover over you while you sit there. “You’re such a tease” he chuckles. He leans down to capture your lips in a brief kiss again.
It was like he couldn’t get enough of your lips.
“Get on the ground,” Matt says, his tone more demanding and rough with lust.
You obey. You slide off your bed, getting on your knees on the ground.
Matt tugs his shirt off throwing it off to the side. He unbuckles his belt and undoes the button and zipper on his jeans before finally sliding them off and tossing them away.
You curiously watch. The only men you’d seen in this position were in pornos. This though, was your best friend since middle school.
Sometimes you forgot he was an actual man with a dick and all.
And right now, seeing the imprint of his cock through his boxers felt surreal.
He starts to tug on his boxers. Your eyes go up to meet his. “Ever gotten your dick sucked?” You ask sarcastically to cover up how nervous you are.
“No.” He breaths out. While continuing to look down at you he finally pulls down his boxers. He tosses them away too.
Your eyes trail from his eyes to his lips, over his jawline and his chest, down to his dick. The dick that was rock hard and right in front of your face.
Your eyes widen, as you sit back your hands staying on your knees as you just stare.
His tip was the same red he had on his cheeks, leaking pre cum. He had a vain running up his shaft. You always thought that male body part was rather disgusting looking.
But the way Matt’s looks right now…
You don’t know if it’s just the burning lust running through your body. But you actually really wanted to taste that.
Your hand goes to cup his aching cock. He lets out a sharp sigh at the feeling. You touch it gently. You don’t move your hand and stay careful of your manicured nails.
“I don’t know what I’m doing” you breathe out. While you do, you gently start to move your hand up and down your length slowly jerking him off.
“I don’t either,” he tilts his head forwards closing his eyes for a secound. “Keep going we’ll figure it out,” Matt assures you.
His hand goes to the back of your head. His hand starts to smooth down your hair.
“C’mon baby, don’t be shy” he coos staring down at you. Matt looks down at you like he’s done this a billion times before when he claims he never had.
But you guess one of you at least had to pretend that you were understanding what you’re doing right now.
You lean forward leaving a tender kiss on the tip. You do what you think someone would do in this situation.
The way he shudders at the simple touch though, shows that he is in fact, not experienced.
In hindsight, you don’t know why you thought that he was experienced. You just assumed.
“You think this will fuck up our friendship?” You ask while still slowly jerking him off.
Matt’s breaths are slightly shaky, but he chuckles at the question.
“No. I won’t let it.” He huffs.
“So..” you pause your movements. You glance down at his dick and the way your manicured hand wraps around it. And how huge it looks.
You then look back up at him through your lashes. “How am I supposed to do this?” You ask uncertainly.
“I don’t know.” He pauses to lick his lips. The way you, his best friend, look up at him through your lashes like that, was making him even more aroused.
“Just do what you feel like. But be careful of your teeth.” He says slowly. he wasn’t even sure himself.
You raise your eyebrow at his vague response. Neither of you knew how to do it, so you might as well imitate the porn that you’ve watched.
You drag you tongue up his shaft, keeping your eyes locked on his. When you’re at the tip you lick up all the pre cum leaking. You keep eye contact with matt, and it was driving him crazy.
He lets out shaky breaths. He was clearly enjoying this.
You kiss his tip again, before wrapping your lips around his tip. You slowly swirl your tongue around it trying to see how he’ll react.
You watch him to see if he likes it or not.
“Yeah, like that,” he says under his breath staring down at you.
With his praise and encouragement, you start to take him further down your throat. Slowly and carefully.
Matt whispers praises into the quiet room. All of them go right to your core and boost your ego.
You eventually feel comfortable enough to bob your head. You were jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You were bobbing your head at a rhythmic pace and hollowing out your cheeks occasionally.
“I’m close-“ Matt whines. He actually whines.
And that sound. The power you had to make him sound like that was making you feel even more confident.
You don’t slow down your pace. You just keep going.
Until matt puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He tugs on it hard, to keep you still. He starts at a gentle but fast pace.
You feel your eyes fog up. The constant hit to the back of your throat makes you gag slightly.
His pace starts to become more and more sloppy as the seconds pass though.
You feel his dick hit the back of your throat before you suddenly feel your mouth be filled.
You feel his sticky load shoot down your throat. He pants, pulling at your hair to pull you off.
You swallowed what you could. But still, you feel a bit of it roll down your chin.
“Sh, sorry no don’t cry.” He immediately panics cupping your face in his hands. He looks down at you, worried. As if he thinks he went too far.
He wipes away the tears. The tears that you hadn’t even noticed had fallen.
Sighing, you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. “I’m okay Matty” you breathe out softly. His facial expression visibly relaxes at the statement.
“I’m sorry if that was too hard”
“It wasn’t, you’re good.” You stand up.
You immediately go to undo your own jeans. You slip out of them, throwing them off to the side.
His eyes roam over your body. The air is thick, both of your bodies pulsing with pure lust and awe.
You watch as his half-hard dick gets hard again.
You chuckle at the reaction. You teasingly take your bra off. And once you unclasp it, it’s Thrown across the room to the rest of your clothes.
His eyes trail your body again. He can’t help himself at the way your boobs look. He’s always admired you from afar. He never thought he’d ever be able to see you like this.
Sure he had imagined you two together like this before, but he never thought he’d actually get to see it. Besides, the real thing, the euphoria, it all felt better than he could’ve ever thought.
“So pretty, baby” he sighs. His hand goes to your chest. you could tell he’d never done this before just by the way he touched you like you were fragile.
But neither of you knowing what you were doing only made this more thrilling.
His hands go to your waist as he pushes you back onto your bed. He hovers over you for a moment, before crashing his lips back onto yours.
You kiss back, but you mostly let him take the lead. After he breaks the kiss, You feel him start to trail his kisses down your jawline and neck, while needing your breast in his hand.
He sits up again putting his other hand on your chest and needing it too, watching the way his hands look wrapped around your tits.
He sighs getting off of you and between your legs.
“Tell me when it feels good, sweetheart, alright?” He hums. He pulls at your panties, taking them off and half-heartedly throwing them away.
His eyes stay locked on your pussy. He admires it, like it’s the first time he’s seen it, which it is.
He puts your legs over his shoulders to give himself a better angle. He uses his middle finger to brush through your folds experimentally, watching you in awe.
You sigh at the contact on your folds. You’ve never been touched there. But Matt’s touch felt so incredibly comforting and good.
Your core was aching, pulsing around nothing. And Matt watched.
After a moment he kissed just above your clit. Kissing a trail down to your clit, before harshly starting to suck on it.
Your moan tears through the room. You were startled by how bold and confident he acted.
He groans into your core at your taste on his tongue. The groan sends pleasure coursing through you and chills down your spine.
“Fuck- matt” you whine. Your thighs clench around his head trying to get him closer. Your hand finds its way to his hair tugging on it slightly.
Your other hand berries in the sheets, trying to find something to hold onto. “God- have you done this before?” You ask rhetorically not expecting an answer.
He licks a stripe up your folds and starts to move his tongue against your sensitive nub. You whine and he chuckles.
“No.” He mumbles against you in answer. You throw your head back in pleasure your eyes briefly closing.
You feel Matt pull at you, tilting his head slightly for a deeper angle.
He was eating you out like you were his last meal. But beyond that also like this would be the only time he got to taste your sweet juices.
“Matt, fuck yeah- just like that.” You keep praising him. You notice how it boosts his confidence and in turn, makes this even more pleasurable for you.
You feel a finger brush at your cunt. Before you feel it slide in. Your hand immediately tugs harder at his hair. Your back arches slightly as you throw your head back in pleasure.
He thrusts his middle finger in and out of your tight cunt. He was turning his hand slightly, twisting it and turning it to get a feel for your body and how you react. And to also make you loosen up a bit.
You whine in discomfort. Matt detaches his lips from your clit still hovering close though.
“You okay sweetheart?” He says lowly under his breath.
Your moaning was loud and echoing through the room.
You sit up in your forearms staring down at him and the way he was fingering you like that. Watching the way his finger disappeared in your tight cunt.
“I’m good”
The words come up a bit slurred. The pleasure of him finger fucking you like that, was making your head feel all fuzzy.
“Never fingered yourself, baby?” He asks teasingly. You watch him and the way he steadies himself on his other arm.
He readjusts his finger, curling it up roughly hitting your sweet spot right on.
The touch sends shivers of pleasure down your spine making you shut your eyes and throw your head back.
“Matt, matt-“ you chant his name like a prayer. It’s the only thing you can think of. Him. And only him. That’s all that’s relevant right now.
He slips his second finger into your soaked core with ease. You barely even notice the second finger added. Until he starts to scissor them apart to stretch your insides even further.
He keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you harshly. Curling them at just the right spots to make your vision blur.
You lay back down fully, as he is now sitting up more.
“Yeah pretty girl, that feel good?” He asks. Your back arches and your mouth falls open in a silent moan.
He leans up further, your legs fall from his shoulders as he hovers over your lower body. He puts his whole hand on your lower stomach applying gentle pressure on it to keep you down on the bed.
“I’m close-“ you breathe out between loud moans.
“good girl, come for me.” You shudder at the pet name. Your thighs shake slightly at the burning intensity of his gaze and the way his fingers curl at just the right spots.
You squirm under his gaze. And suddenly you feel the intense knot in your stomach snap. You feel him continue to finger fuck you, while your entire body feels burning hot.
You feel so warm and overwhelmed by the euphoria flowing through your veins. It feels better than any high you have ever experienced. Not that you’ve experienced a lot.
Once you ride out your high you breathe hard. Your eyes stay closed as you lay back on your bed.
Matt gently pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact.
He lays down on your duvet next to you, turns to his side, and watches you.
You also turn to face him after a moment. You two just look at each other.
Matt looks at you with such intense adoration and love, it’s crazy.
“You actually wanna loose your virginity now?” He asks gently. Ignoring the fact that he was rock-hard.
You two so far had only given each other pleasure, but you hadn’t lost your virginity yet.
“Yes” you breathe out. You feel ready now more than you ever have before. Especially if you get to lose it to matt.
He licks his lips looking over your face.
“I don’t have a condom.” He says simply looking back at you. He knew you weren’t on the pill. He’d be fine doing it some other day.
“That’s fine.” You say though , catching him off guard. How desperate do you have to be to let him raw dog it?
“You’re not on the pill tho?” He questions.
“I’m not” you confirm simply. He raises an eyebrow waiting for further explanation. “You can pull out or something.” You shrug.
“That sounds tacky.” He huffs a laugh at how ridiculous that sounds.
“Doesn’t matter, we’ll deal with that tomorrow morning. Just please fuck me?”
You think he’s going to refuse Until he suddenly pulls you on top of him. You sit on his torso for a moment before you get the memo.
“You want me to ride you?” You ask slowly.
“If you’re not comfortable we can switch?” He offers. But why would you decline to ride him?
You shake your head no, before starting to slide down on his torso feeling his length glide between your soaked folds.
“Can’t be that hard?” You question rather skeptically.
In your opinion matt didn’t seem small. Though you had nothing to compare it to. All the girls in porn seemed to struggle with something that looked as big as Matt.
So either this would be really hard or easy for you. But either way, you wanted to try.
“You’re okay, we’ll go slow” he chuckles at your nervousness but is secretly just as scared. “And I’ll help you.” He assures.
You lift yourself hovering over his crotch area. You take in a harsh breath grabbing his dick and hovering over it.
Matt’s hand goes to it too holding it up. While your hand goes to your cunt as you gently and slowly sink down on it.
You both moan at the contact. Getting in the tip was hard. But once that was in you felt like you could easily slide down the rest of it, not that it wouldn’t hurt.
Matt’s free hand goes to your waist, guiding you like he said he would.
“Doing so good, princess.” You whine at the praise, but ultimately slowly skink down further..
Matt keeps your movements steady as you keep doing your thing. His second hand also goes to your waist using it to steady your movements further.
“Fuck so big.” You moan. Your thighs tense as you pull it out slightly. You could feel the stretch burn.
“It’s okay sweetheart. you only got a couple inches left.” He assures you as he starts guiding you back lower on him. Your cunt was aching around him harshly.
“Fuck-“ you sigh. You can’t help yourself when you take one of his hands from your waist and interlock your hands. You need the moral support.
“Such a good girl,” Matt says as you start to gently bounce on what you have fit so far.
He was occasionally groaning. Your moans filled the room, the air in the room staying hot.
He squeezes your hand. You close your eyes at the mixture of pleasure and pain. When you close your eyes he lets his eyes wander down to where your bodies meet.
He’d never done this and this felt so incredibly good. The sight alone could make him come right then and there.
Matt wasn’t dumb, he knew he had quite the dick. It wasn’t small by any means. And he knew that. It was amusing Watching you struggle with what you had, knowing there were at least still 3 more inches to go.
“You okay?” He asks again just to make sure you are okay.
The pain had subsided and you felt the pleasure. Sure you could take more but you were nervous to. This wasn’t as easy as it looked or as You thought it’d be.
“I’m okay” you sigh. You keep yourself gently and slowly bouncing on the upper half of the length of his cock.
Matt knows you really well. And matt just knows you can take more than that, Despite being a virgin himself. It was just a gut feeling. “Baby, I’m gonna need you to bear with me alright?”
Before you can respond, his hand on your waist tightens, and he squeezes your hand that’s intertwined with his. He rams you down on his dick harshly, making you take it as much as you physically could.
Your legs tense up at the harsh treatment. Your eyes close as a moan is ripped out your lungs. You clench so unbelievably tight around him. And just the sight of himself buried so deep inside of you could have him come at the spot.
He groans at the feeling of it as well. “Good-“ he breathes out. “Such a good girl.”
He keeps his hand intertwined with yours for moral support. His hand trails from your waist over your side soothingly.
You sigh at the feeling of him being completely in you. It’s a foreign feeling. It just feels so full.
“I feel so fucking stuffed” you groan dramatically. You let your head hang forward your mouth open in a silent moan.
“Oh, you’re so gonna be stuffed” he huffs. And somehow, even though pregnancy and birth scares the hell out of you, this type of dirty talk was extremely hot to you.
You huff in response starting to grind into him. You grind on his dick, his Hand on your hips helping you as you slowly try to get used to the size.
You sigh pulling all of your hair back out of your face again. You readjust your legs, taking your hand out of Matt’s. You shift, leaning on your arms to lean back slightly.
You start to carefully ride him your moans and whines still audible. Your head is thrown back in pleasure.
Matt watches the way your body moves in awe. Groaning every so often when you clench around him.
His hand goes to rest over your lower stomach, his thumb goes to rub on your clit gently. “Matt.” You gasp at the sudden added pleasure.
You can’t help yourself when you lean back forward. You just really want to see Matt’s face while you ride him.
“So good for me baby, keep going” he encourages. And with his words, you readjust again now pulling out more and ramming yourself back down.
You feel the knot in your stomach get tighter. You feel really good riding him like this, listening to his mumbles of praise and encouragement.
You continue to bounce on him, now chasing your high. And the harsher you slam yourself down the louder you and matt get. The room is filled with your noises as well as skin clapping loudly, and your lewd wetness.
After a few seconds you feel the knot snap. You lean over him, your arms on either side of his head catching you. Your high feels incredible, the heat washing over you like a wave.
Matt’s hand on your waist gets bruisingly harsh. He holds you in place while he thrusts up into you. You whine at the way he fucks you through your high. He was chasing his own now.
“Where do you want it.” His breath is harsh. He choked out the words in his lust-filled voice. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding to know.
“Inside.” You grit out. You bite your lip harshly, feeling your high subside and overstimulation slowly take over.
Matt grunts an agreement and you feel his thrusts get more sloppy and harsh. Until he gives you one last thrust, finally stopping his movements. He pulls you down to sit on him while spurts of his release shoot up into you.
You were pulsing around him, practically milking him for all he’s got. “Such a good girl” matt breathes out. One of his hands goes to trail over your stomach slightly.
He feels the slight bulge in your stomach from his sheer size.
The idea that this is how you make children is crazy to you. And the fact that you just did that with your best friend.
“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly staring up at you lovingly.
“Warm” you respond truthfully. His sticky seed inside of you makes your core feel all warm, along with the fact that you haven’t gotten off of it yet.
“Do you regret it?” He asks gently. After all, you two were best friends, and he had just lost his virginity to you and also taken yours.
Despite being terrified of the fact that you let him raw dog this, you didn’t regret it. In fact, you felt content, you love matt dearly.
“No” you don’t hesitate. You never realized how much you love Matt. He was just always there with you, he was always your best friend. You couldn’t imagine a future without him.
“You’re paying for the plan b pill tho” you chuckle.
He huffs a laugh. you carefully lift yourself off of him feeling your combined juices leak. You can see Matt watching, his eyes focused on your pussy. Watching the way you’re filled to the brim.
You kneel next to him, as you watch him sit up. “Come on sweetheart let’s get you cleaned up.”
Masterlist
A/N: I know this isn’t the most original idea, but I haven’t read any ffs where both of them are virgins. But if there is one that’s similar to mine, just know it was not intentional. In that case, If someone gives me the @ I can credit them.
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturnioloos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangepepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo
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syluslnd · 4 months ago
Note
If the pregnant MC is kidnapped by Sylus' enemies, Luke and Kieran don't know how to inform Sylus because they know how much he cares about MC and her babys. If MC miscarries her babys and falls unconscious because of what she went through there, what will happen when Sylus finds her, what will she feel when he takes her to the hospital, what will Mc feel when she wakes up? How will Sylus comfort her when she starts crying and how will he eventually take revenge on his enemies?
I think I've written this request before, but I really want to read this article from your perspective. I'm sorry if I bothered you by sending the request a second time.
when sylus enemies attack you causing you to have miscarriage
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tags-angst,comforting,mentions of violence,guilt
(note-hi don’t worry it’s ok if u sent it a second time,it took me a while to write so that’s why I’m posting until now! I hope this is what you wanted 🤍)
────୨ৎ────
The room was dark, cold and the pain was unbearable. Your body ached with every breath, bruises spreading across your skin like ink stains and your mind struggled to keep up with the reality of your situation.
You had been taken, dragged from the safety of Sylus’s protection by enemies who were relentless in their cruelty. You had fought but they were too many and now, your body bore the cost of their violence.
But the worst pain wasn’t physical. It was the dull, nauseating sensation in your abdomen, the sinking, terrifying fear that something was deeply wrong.
Your vision blurred as you lay there on the cold concrete, your hands instinctively moving to your stomach, trembling as you realized what had been taken from you—not just your freedom but something far more precious.
The baby. The one thing you and Sylus had never fully planned but had begun to hope for, had begun to envision. The agony in your gut was matched only by the agony in your heart.
The door creaked open and heavy boots stomped into the room. The men—the ones who had done this—stood there, sneering at your helpless form, mocking your weakness. You barely heard their words through the haze of pain but their laughter cut through. Each chuckle was a reminder of your helplessness, of your inability to protect the life that had been growing inside you.
And then, there was a sound. A familiar, terrifyingly calm sound—the door slamming open, the faint hum of something electric, like restrained fury. Sylus.
His voice was cold, filled with a rage that he rarely showed. You couldn’t see him clearly but you heard the quiet menace in his tone, the way his words dripped with a deadly promise.
“Where. Is. She?”
There was no hesitation. You heard the scuffle, the brief yelp of one of your captors before everything went silent. Then, you felt his hands—warm, steady but trembling with suppressed anger—as he lifted you into his arms. His touch was gentle despite the tension radiating from him and for the first time since you’d been taken, you felt a flicker of safety.
He didn’t say a word as he carried you out, the sound of footsteps and the faint groans of the men behind him lost in the fog of your pain. You knew what this meant—he wouldn’t kill them now. Not yet. But they wouldn’t escape. Not after what they had done.
At the hospital, the lights were harsh, the sterile smell filling your senses as Sylus carried you inside. Nurses rushed to your side, the urgency in their movements sending a cold rush of fear through you. Your head lolled to the side, eyes searching for Sylus but all you saw was his face, stony and unreadable as they wheeled you away. His hand briefly touched yours before you were pulled into the emergency room and that touch was all that kept you from sinking completely into despair.
Time passed in fragments—flashes of doctors, machines beeping, cold hands pressing on your abdomen. You felt detached from your body, lost in the haze of pain and fear, until a voice broke through.
“I’m sorry.”
You blinked, trying to focus as the doctor stood by your bedside, their expression somber. Sylus was beside you, his posture rigid, his hand gripping yours tightly, almost painfully.
“I’m sorry” the doctor repeated, their voice softer now, filled with regret. “We did everything we could, but… you’ve lost the baby.”
The words hit you like a freight train. You stared at the doctor, unable to process the weight of what they had said. The baby… was gone? No. That couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.
“No…” you whispered, your voice trembling, barely audible. “No, I… I should have been stronger. I should have fought harder. I—”
But before you could finish, Sylus’s grip on your hand tightened and he turned to you, his face a storm of emotions you rarely saw. Anger, pain, guilt—it was all there, swirling beneath the surface of his usually controlled demeanor.
“Don’t” he snapped, his voice rough, almost breaking. “Don’t you dare blame yourself.”
You flinched at the intensity of his words, your tears spilling over as you tried to form some sort of response. “But I—I should’ve—”
“No” Sylus interrupted, his voice low but trembling with fury. “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.” He looked away for a moment, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might break, his hands shaking now as he struggled to keep himself from unraveling.
“I should have been there” he continued, his voice raw with guilt. “I should’ve protected you. This happened because of me because of my enemies. I brought you into this life and I couldn’t even keep you safe. I…” His words faltered and he took a sharp breath, trying to regain his composure.
Your heart broke at the sight of him like this—Sylus, always so calm, so collected, now barely holding himself together. You had never seen him so vulnerable, so angry at himself and it only made the pain in your chest worse.
“I should have been there” he repeated, his voice softer now, filled with regret. “I failed you. I failed our baby.”
The tears flowed freely now and you shook your head, trying to tell him he was wrong, that it wasn’t his fault, but the words wouldn’t come. The grief, the guilt—it was all too much.
Sylus’s hand cupped your face, gently forcing you to look at him. His eyes, usually so cold and unreadable, were now filled with a deep, aching sadness. “Kitten” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ll make them pay. I swear to you, I’ll make them pay for this. But you… you have to know this wasn’t your fault.”
You leaned into his touch, your body shaking with sobs as the weight of the loss crashed over you. Sylus pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the pain, from the reality of what had been taken from you both.
The baby was gone. The future you had only just begun to imagine was gone and there was nothing either of you could do to change that. But in that moment, as Sylus held you, his own grief mixing with yours, you knew that you weren’t alone in this. He was there and no matter how much he blamed himself, no matter how much you blamed yourself, you had each other.
And for now, that had to be enough.
Luke and Kieran stood guard at your door, their shadows tall against the dim light of the hospital hallway. You knew Sylus trusted them-his two most loyal men-but it did little to ease the cold dread that had settled into your bones.
Sylus had left without a word but you knew where he had gone. You knew the kind of wrath that was brewing inside him, the rage he held back only for your sake and now, he was gone to unleash it.
The basement was cold and damp, the smell of mildew mixing with the stench of fear. The three men who had taken you were bound tightly to chairs, their heads slumped forward, blood dripping from their faces from the initial beatings Sylus had given them when he'd first found you.
Their bodies were bruised and broken but that was nothing compared to what was coming. Sylus stood in the shadows, silent, watching them as they stirred, slowly waking to the nightmare that awaited them.
One of the men groaned, his head lifting as he squinted through swollen eyes. "W-Where are we?"
Sylus stepped forward, his boots echoing against the concrete floor. His face was devoid of emotion, cold, calculating. He was no longer the man who had cradled you in his arms at the hospital, no longer the man who had tried to soothe your pain with soft words. This was a different side of him— ruthless, unrelenting, and out for blood.
"You know exactly where you are" Sylus said, his voice low, a dangerous calmness to it. He crouched down in front of the man, his dark eyes locking onto his with an intensity that sent a shiver down the man's spine.
"And you know exactly who I am."
The man's breathing quickened, panic flashing across his face as he realized who was standing before him. "P-Please, we didn't mean to-"
Before he could finish, Sylus backhanded him, the force of the blow snapping the man's head to the side. Blood splattered onto the ground, and the man whimpered, his body trembling.
"You didn't mean to what?" Sylus hissed, standing up slowly, towering over him. "You didn't mean to kidnap my fiancée? Didn't mean to hurt her? Didn't mean to kill my child?" His voice was deadly now, each word punctuated with a barely restrained fury.
The man sobbed, his words a jumbled mess of apologies and excuses. Sylus's eyes darkened as he turned his attention to the others. "You're all going to pay for what you did."
He walked over to a table lined with tools— knives, pliers, a blowtorch. The sight alone was enough to make the men scream in terror, their bodies jerking against their restraints as they tried in vain to free themselves. But there was no escape. Sylus had made sure of that.
He picked up a pair of pliers, testing the grip with a snap before walking back to the man he had hit. "You took something from me that I can never get back” Sylus said quietly, his tone almost conversational. "So, I'm going to take something from you."
With that, he grabbed the man's hand and forced his fingers apart. The man screamed as Sylus clamped the pliers around one of his fingers and, without hesitation, ripped the nail clean off. Blood poured from the wound as the man howled in agony, his body convulsing in the chair. Sylus didn't flinch, his eyes cold and focused as he repeated the process on the next finger, and the next.
"Stop! Please! Stop!" the man begged, tears streaming down his face but Sylus was unmoved.
"You don't get to beg" Sylus said, his voice low and deadly.
He moved to the next man, who was already sobbing, begging for mercy. Sylus picked up a knife and with a swift motion, he sliced across the man's cheek, deep enough to leave a permanent scar but not enough to kill him. It was slow, deliberate, designed to inflict as much pain as possible without granting them the mercy of death.
The man screamed, his cries echoing off the walls of the basement. Sylus barely blinked as he moved to the last man, the leader of the group. The one who had orchestrated the entire thing.
Sylus leaned down close, his voice a whisper in the man's ear. "You're going to suffer the most and when I'm done with you, you'll beg me for death."
He grabbed the blowtorch, flicking it on with a soft hiss. The man's eyes widened in terror, his body shaking uncontrollably as Sylus held the flame close to his skin, the heat searing his flesh. The smell of burning skin filled the air and the man's screams were deafening but Sylus didn't stop. He burned him, inch by inch, savoring every moment of the man's agony.
Hours passed and by the time Sylus was done, the men were unrecognizable, their bodies broken and mutilated beyond repair.
They were still alive but barely. Sylus stood over them, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with the adrenaline that still pumped through his veins. The cold satisfaction of revenge washed over him but it didn't erase the pain. It didn't bring back what they had taken.
He wiped the blood from his hands and walked out of the basement, leaving the men to rot in their own misery. There was no rush to finish them off. They would suffer until their last breath.
but sylus ? He would return to you.
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eloves-writes · 1 year ago
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careful who you’re talking to
[coriolanus snow x reader]
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desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.
especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.
you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.
-
“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.
coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.
“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”
snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”
“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”
festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”
coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.
the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.
he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.
festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”
oh you’ll hear it alright.
“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”
-
on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.
“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.
he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.
“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.
“what?”
“you heard me.”
either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.
“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.
“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”
you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.
“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”
“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.
“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.
“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.
coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”
a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”
he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”
“am i yours?”
he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”
“i’m yours.”
“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.
you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.
“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.
he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.
“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.
he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.
corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.
you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”
you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.
coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.
your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.
snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.
you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.
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lyrefromthesea · 6 months ago
Note
HELLLLLAAAAW THEEERRRE, LISTEN (or read), I've been thinking. THAT I LOVE UR WRITING A LOOOOT, and I've been waiting but before that, idrk if u take req rn so feel free to discard this request! anyway, back to main topic, I've been wondering how the hashira's would react to reader/their s/o, adoring their hands a lot, like i mean— obsessed with their hands, whether its holding hands in public (or privately, if the character does not really like showing affection in public), or maybe yk hold hands in bed HWGAHGAHWHS, maybe, something like soft nsfw, like with fluff! u get me? just the character, comforting their s/o when they get too tense during their sexual intercourse, andddddd more fluff if u want! thank u for taking ur time to read!!
Male Hashira x Reader - Hold my hands
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author's note: my fever has killed me a few times during this post.
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: nsfw, sexual intercourse (Rengoku, Giyuu), mildly suggestive (Sanemi)
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Tengen:
• who knows exactly what his hands can do to you and despite his teasing nature uses them for your comfort
• enjoys seeing you calm down because of his hands and though he doesn't want you to feel bad he certainly doesn't mind calming you down
he's been looking towards the sky for quite some time now, sitting under the tree with the person he adored most.
you were so strong, so sure of your actions-
and sometimes you felt insecure and the worry seemed to consume you. he understood it, he understood your fear of failure and the future that would follow.
that's why he had no problems consoling you when you needed it most, taking his time to sit with you in silence. words weren't needed in these times, only the comfort of his presence.
he allowed himself to glance down at you, feeling the tender touches of your fingers on his. you were strong, he didn't doubt that, but your body felt so fragile compared to his own.
the difference in the size of your hands proved it to him every single time. he knew you could protect yourself, but if you couldn't, he would be there for you.
"i think i'm feeling better." you said, your eyes finally focusing on his face instead of his hands. you had been touching and playing with his fingers for quite some time now, your hold on them decreasing.
"ya sure? you still look down." he answered, earning a hesitant nod from you. feeling your hand let go of him made him act, bringing his own hand up to the back of your head.
"i don't believe it and lying is not flashy in my eyes. let's stay a bit longer." you were quite surprised when he pressed your head against his chest, looking up at the sky again.
somehow he always knew what you needed, even when you didn't admit it. and with a gentle smile, as well as his hand running through your hair, you sunk into a deep slumber.
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Obanai:
• who is surprised when he found out you were fascinated by his hands.
• someone like you adoring a feature of his? the mere thought made him blush when he was laying awake at night.
• who enjoys holding your hand just as much as you, often turning into a blushing mess.
he knew he wasn't as strong as most other hashira. he was smaller, physically weaker. of course it gave him one or two advantages, like a flexibility the tall males around him could only dream about.
yet he secretly found himself craving their strength - at least a part of it. he wouldn't complain about a bit more arm strength, but that would remain a dream of his.
the moment he found himself content with the lack of strength he possessed clearly came with you. you had been sitting next to each other, simply enjoying the time you could spend together. at least that was what he was doing, your mind had long drifted away.
he tensed up when he felt your fingers brush over his, holding his hand. your thumb brushed over his knuckles comfortingly.
he didn't dare look at you, only turning towards you when he felt you glancing, uncertainty rising inside you with his current expression. his hand reached out to you when he felt you pull away.
"i shouldn't have done that, i'm sorry." you said, trying to escape any rising feeling of shame. you just didn't expect him to hold your hand tighter.
"don't stop." he answered, his tone letting it appear much more like a quiet plead. surprise overtook you, quickly replaced by a comforting shyness.
your fingers interlocked with his once more, this time with switched positions. you felt goosebumps appear on your skin, your cheeks heating up.
"your hands are soft, [name].."
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Rengoku:
• whether it's in public or at home, he enjoys holding your hand just as much as you like holding his
• however, one attractive thing he does is taking your hand after overstimulating you
"honey.." he pants, trying not to cum a second time from the way you were squeezing around him, body basically trying to milk him even in your current state.
it had started a few hours ago, when he came home from a long mission. he had missed you during his time in the snowy mountains, deciding that his arrival would be the perfect moment to show you how much he appreciates your body.
having to cum multiple times - first his fingers, then his tongue and now his cock - was just too much for your poor body.
of course Rengoku realized that, seeing you shake and tremble under him, small tears running down your flushed cheeks. you were still caught up in your orgasm, trying to even out your breathing pattern.
"it's okay, we're done. breathe, little flame." he panted, hands letting go of the sheets of your shared bed, sitting upright and looking down at you.
he didn't pull out, simply admiring your panting form laying on the bed. his hands snaked along your arms, holding your hands and pressing them into the matress.
feeling the warmth of his palm press against yours got your attention, a silent moan leaving your lips. "are you okay?" the question made you nod quietly, finally being able to register the world around you again.
"'m so sore.." you mumbled, watching the man above you laugh, squeezing your hands in response.
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Sanemi:
• he absolutely loves it
• you clearly developed a liking to your hand and he's fully using that to fluster you
• taking you by surprise is his favorite
you've been standing in the kitchen, making sure all the medical herbs you've received were in their right place. you needed to make sure they're easily accessible when Sanemi came home injured.
in your concentrated state, you didn't notice the tall man approaching you slowly - lurking like a predator.
and then you shriek, feeling a slap land on your ass. out of reflex you leaned forward, your head quickly turning around to find Sanemi right behind you.
"missed me?" he teased, stepping closer until he was right behind you, hands placed on the counter on either side of you. he pressed his body against yours with a smirk, resulting in your face getting a lot warmer than before.
"Sanemi! you always do this!" you scolded him, trying to turn around from the sheer embarrassment you just faced or rather the excitement that pooled in your body.
"what can i say? can't resist you with a fine ass like that." he chuckled, letting go of the counter to squeeze your behind with his calloused fingers, earning a whine from you.
"and truthfully, i think you can't resist me either." hearing him whisper into your ear, hand traveling up your side, made you stare at the watch.
he was right, you couldn't resist him, nor could he resist you. besides, the herbs could wait for a while.
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Giyuu:
• initially he was the one that liked holding your hands, it was the most simple form of physical touch he could come up with
• still a touch-starved man, WILL have his hands on you the whole time when you're making love.
• knows it gets you more exited, wouldn't judge you for it either, since he gets just as exited when he sees you
"Oh~ baby.." he gasped, head resting against the headboard of your bed. he watched you lazily bounce up and down his cock, trying to work yourself into ecstacy.
whenever you were sharing such passionate moments with each other, he could feel his fingers twitch with the need to hold onto your body - onto you.
they first slid up your thighs, holding onto your hips, guiding you to grind back against him. he loved the feeling of your warmth and he loved the reactions his hands could coax out of you.
he didn't miss out on the way your lips opened in a silent cry, begging to feel his hands run over your body, around your neck or anything else that allowed you to feel them.
and of course he'll answer.
"hold.. hold my hands.. i want to feel you.." he moans, letting go of your hips only to intertwine his fingers with yours, feeling your hips stutter.
he certainly knew how to exploit your weakness for his hands - especially since he was just as weak for you.
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Gyomei:
• likes using his hands to calm you down
• they're like a security rope connecting the two of you when the situation makes uncertainty rise within you
"my dearest child, are you ready to serve as a hashira?" the soothing voice of master Kagaya usually managed to calm you down, but not today.
you sat in front of him, a private meeting being held between the two of you and a pillar of choice. naturally, you went with the one you trusted most - the stone pillar.
it would've been an honor to serve as a hashira, every demon slayer knew that, but being confronted with the choice of being one, you found yourself unsure.
the pillars were the strongest humans you had ever set your eyes on, you weren't sure if you could stand by their side.
lowering your head in shame, you were ready to decline the master's offer. however, you were stopped by the blind man next to you.
he placed a large hand on your back, the warmth seeping into your skin slowly calming you down, letting you think properly.
you weren't chosen without a reason, if the master wanted you to become a hashira, he trusted in your talent.
swallowing down your uncertainty, you nodded with little to no hesitance. "i'm ready."
next to you, still his hand on your back, Gyomei found himself smiling. if it was his presence you needed to make a decision, he'd gladly do this for you everytime.
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yeahxsurexokay13 · 9 months ago
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bragger, lando norris
summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.
warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:
IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇
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y/n.updates
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Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others
y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄
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fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this
fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol
fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha
user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her
fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste
fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always
fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando
fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol
fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?
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y/n.y/l
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Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others
y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡
view all 3.501 comments
y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:
oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author
landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺
fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING
y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since
fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)
user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼
landofan3 soy lago
y/n.y/l same
lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author
fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now
maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me
y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔
landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author
landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹
fan5 when did he say that? omg
landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!
mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆
y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?
user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?
fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews
user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author
landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much
y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you
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y/n.y/l
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Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others
y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋
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fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??
y/n.y/l 🫢🫢
fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author
landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!
landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........
landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?
y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽‍♀️ but let me know if you find out xx
landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure
fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM
fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg
fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't
user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸
fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️
y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️
landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better
fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐
y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha
user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑
fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all
landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣
fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
2K notes · View notes
dilf-docs · 8 days ago
Text
Hand To Heart (I'm Gonna Stay Faithful)
bfd!joel miller x younger!reader
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summary: a pregnancy scare makes you realize just how deep you are in this.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., pregnancy scare, fingering (WE GET IT U LIKE IT), bit of praise kink, humilliation kink, breeding kink (they're stupid and insane acc), dacryphilia, sex thru the looking glass (there's a mirror in reader's dorm), ANGST in capital, they're starting to catch the feels™ ur honor, hurt/comfort, plot thiccens, this people are clearly NOT in a good headspace btw idk we listen read and don't judge.
word count: 4,757 words
side note: everyone calling this joel nasty but thirsting after him too? was going to hold a trial over my citizens but yk... what the hell, sure! i too want nasty bfd!joel to ruin me: he can be my baby daddy who doesn't pay for child support of our 4 kids and we'd make way to bed for our 5th LET'S GO also spam time! but i also happen to write in wattpad, and got a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) it's on spanish tho, but if u speak the language and would like to tune in, u can read it here
part: prev | masterlist | next
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It's a regular Tuesday when his phone rings at ten in the morning.
"Dad"
Joel gets up from his desk in a brash move, immediately picking up his daughter's worried tone. Tommy bursts inside, telling him to calm down, but all Joel can hear is the anxious beat in his chest.
"What's it, babygirl? You okay?" his throat tightens. "Talk to me"
There's silence before she answers, as if she's unsure to continue.
"It's not me" he feels his muscles relaxing, but then Sarah drops the bomb. "It's y/n"
Joel's heart beats with a different type of worry.
"What's wrong with her?" voice firm but emotionless.
It's almost summer again, and he's still seeing you. In a way, you had carved a space for yourself in his cold heart, so naturally, fear settles in. He'd never admit this things out loud, though.
"I don't know, dad" his daughter starts to rush the words out, panic evident on her voice. "She has locked herself in the bathroom and won't stop crying. I-I didn't know who else to call"
"Don't worry" but it sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "M' comin'. S'anyone else in there?"
There's a pause on the line before she answers.
"No"
He thinks of you. He'd seen you cry before, of course, but it'd been over silly childish stuff, like getting sent to bed early or not getting what you wanted for Christmas.
He thinks of you. Images of your pretty face, etched in pain, make his stomach drop. It isn't fair: your face was one destined to be happy for eternity, your smile so contagious Joel would sometimes find himself surrendering to your juvenile joy, his crow feet a little more notorious since you entered his life and carved your space on it by force; a light in the dark.
He just couldn't bear to see a mirror of his dullness on your face. It wasn't right.
"Stay put. I'll be there"
He tries not to think about your eyes drained of life. He tries not to think he's the cause. And then, he hangs.
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As soon as Joel enters your dorm, your perfume is up his nostrils, providing him with a sense of relief he didn't know he needed. It was comforting and familiar, words that used to be hollow now carrying a knowing feeling that stung right on his chest.
"Dad" Sarah calls out, going for a hug. Joel embraces his daughter tightly while caressing her hair. "I'm so glad that you're here. I didn't know what to do"
"Breath in, babygirl. S'alright" he looks at your door, closed. Broken sobs can be heard, and his wounded heart feels like a heavy burden on his chest.
"My class starts in ten" Sarah speaks against the fabric of his flannel, "but I just couldn't leave her like this"
His daughter has a good heart. At least one of them did, anyway.
"Go to your class" he's commanding before he can fully process what he said.
Sarah breaks the hug, looking at him with a look he can't quite place.
"What? But, dad-" she tries to protest, concerned for your wellbeing.
"I'll take care of it. Always do, haven't I?" he sees her hesitation, and afraid of where her doubts would take her, Joel adds a small joke in there. "Y'know those classes ain't free, kid. Go ahead"
"Okay" she gives up. "Just... tell me if anything happens, yes?"
"F'course. Trust me"
"I trust you"
He still remembers when Sarah's kindergarten teacher handed him that drawing: Joel was wearing a cape, and she said his little girl had told everyone in class his dad was a superhero because there was nothing he couldn't do. That same admiration and faith is there in her eyes, even as the small naive kid slips from his fingers and turns into the woman that stands before him. He's not the devil, but the worst father in the world, and that is pretty much the same to him.
When Sarah is out of your dorm, he's trapped inside the small room with your heavy crying on the other side of the door. He looks at the small place, thinking about all the times he's sneaked inside during the night, hiding like a criminal as you wait for him behind the door full of scrapped stickers, ready to capture his lips with an eagerness that gnaws his chest.
Now it's just him and your sobs, his terrified reflection displayed in the mirror in front of your bed, mockingly staring back.
What are you doing? it questions, and Joel, always ready to answer, has suddenly lost the ability to speak.
Forcing himself out of such a pitiful state, he approaches the door, knocking softly.
"Sarah" your hoarse voice speaks up, and just then, he realizes how much he loves hearing your voice, no matter how it sounds. "Don't you have classes to go to? Leave me, please. I promise I'm good, I-"
Joel hears your distress, so he interrupts what looks like the start of a nervous rambling wreck. Huh, doesn't he know you so well?
"Sarah's gone" a beat, "It's me, Joel"
As if you wouldn't recognize that deep voice even if you were deaf.
There's silence before the door flings open, surprising Joel, who takes a step back, barely noticeable to the rest, but obvious to you, who has spent hours admiring him and all his small movements, he who you could draw by memory and built in your head as real as he who was standing before you, his eyes circling with a whirlwind of emotions you can't quite place, yet make your heart race.
Joel takes in the sight of you, deciding it's unfair how good you look, despite your disheveled hair, run mascara and red-rimmed eyes: you are still the prettiest sight he's ever seen, and now he doesn't know what scares him the most.
"You're wearing my shirt" he says out loud his latest discovery. It's all he manages to say: not an are you okay? nor an what's wrong?
No, Joel just happens to be very stupid(ly in love).
"Sarah didn't see me" you hug the fabric that makes your frame look smaller, or maybe it's your tired composture that makes it seem that way, avoiding Joel from enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. "If that's what you wanted to know. Been inside there for hours, already was when she came by"
The fact that you rather explain and assure him of his supposed possible worries instead of sharing your own, makes his stomach tie on a knot. Were you too kind or perhaps selfless? Maybe just stupid(ly in love).
Joel grunts, and you're not sure if it's his way of dissmissing your comment (maybe he thinks you're lying), chastising you in a shallow manner or the fact that you're poorly trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Maybe he thinks you're still a foolish careless child who can't comprehend the weight of whatever it is you're doing by being with your bestfriend's dad behind everyone's back.
"Tell me" he gets closer to you, fingers on your cheeks, but they don't dig the skin, instead, his roughness hiding a surprising tenderness to them. "What happened, y/n?"
The rawness in his voice takes you by surprise. Joel Miller, who seemed a man impossible to waver, now stood before you, wrapped in a gloom that left you at loss for words, something akin to hope planting it's seed on your heart.
"Tell me" he demands, yet his pupils move as unsteady as your heart. There's no power for command in his voice, only what you could allude to helplessness.
Was it because you were putting up walls like he did?
Was it because the consequences of being with you are starting to dawn upon him?
Whatever it is, you don't like it.
"What's wrong?" he's pushing for an answer softly, such a contrasting image to that of him in bed. "Please, talk to me"
Please.
The words slip past his trembling lips, defenses crumbling.
Joel Miller hasn't pleaded since Sarah's mother packed her bags and walked out of their shared home. He promised himself he would never be vulnerable again, never at the feet of a loved one, beggin to be seen.
To be heard. To not be hurt. To be loved.
But here you were, red eyes blown wide at a confession spoken through other words.
Please.
Your chest feels heavy, breath constricted.
"Joel..." you utter his name like a prayer. As something to believe in; something to hold.
He rushes to your side, strong arms caging around you as your labored cries fill the tiny room.
"S'alright" he whispers against your ear, burying his face on your shaking shoulder. "M' right'ere, doll"
Your hold turns more desperate, practically clinging as if your life depended on it.
"Take your time, y/n" your name so soft, you feel like crying more. "I ain't goin' anywhere"
"Promise me" you whimper, holding tightly.
"I won't go" he assures. There it is, the same unwavering strength you know. It's for you, he thinks.
"Joel" you call out again, tone terrified. "I think I'm pregnant"
It takes him at least a minute to speak. Even to breathe.
"...What?"
He feels your erratic pulse against his chest.
"Joel. Look at me"
He doesn't feel your heartbeat anymore. Just then he realizes he's backed down, embrace letting go of yours. Joel takes in your eyes, shimmering with new tears and fears.
"Joel?"
"I'm here" his voice sounds like it belongs to someone else, and the reminder like it's for himself.
"I know" your small voice speaks up, "but, just- please, look at me"
Joel holds your gaze, and it's like your air supply as been cut.
We don't want this.
"Are you sure?" Joel asks cautiously, as if you were a small animal he's afraid to scare.
"No" you breath in. "I bought the test, but I couldn't take it... I was, for the very first time in my life, scared. But there's always a first, isn't it? That's when Sarah found me"
There's always a first. You weren't afraid when he pounced you next to his sleeping daughter, neither when you didn't stop coming and he let you in everytime, and absolutely not when he obscenely ate you out while Sarah was on the phone. No, you were brave―brave enough to stand defiant when his conflicting gaze pierced through you, daring you to be the first to leave this mess and forget about him. But you were brave because you stayed, despite it all.
That had to mean something, right?
"You said you wouldn't leave me" it comes out in a shaky breath; a threat. Your voice seethes with a quiet rage. "You promised, Joel"
Like the word promise was a dagger twisting on his insides, not a sacred oath.
So he forces himself to be that hero Sarah still thinks he is. After all, he promised her he's going to solve this, didn't he?
"I did" he runs a hand through his hair. "Got the test with you?" You slowly nod. "Take it, then. I'll wait here"
You don't move from your spot, chest still moving uneven under your labored breaths.
"When you come out, I'll promise I'll still be here"
He can't promise you more. The world? It's what you deserve but not what he can give; Joel can only give so much.
"Okay" your tone is clipped, and that's all you say before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you.
The room feels smaller than it is, the small plastic stick feeling heavier in your fingers than it actually is. You hear the clock's tick, Joel's frantic pace and your own irrational beat. It feels like a bomb: ready to explode and destroy everything within it's range.
Time drags like a cigarette, walls closing over your shaking pale frame. Your phone has a timer going on, yet for some reason, it feels an end to your beginning. You hug your body, wishing it was Joel's arms doing so.
But you saw it: fear, hesitation. It was on his eyes, auburn cracking like wood under fire. He was weak, and so were you. All of this... it starts to loose it's meaning. What started as a summer fling now falls upon you like a second skin you can't quite wash off, and it's suffocating as much as the enclosed space where a stupid line could change the rest of your life forever.
Joel outside isn't doing much better. He's aware his walking probably set you on edge, so now he's sat at the small bed that dips under his weight. He takes one deep breath, two―then looses count.
How could he be so careless? For a brief moment, why did he let himself believe it could be?
For God's sake: you were his daughter's friend. He had seen you and Sarah play on his house, laughing on his porch, gossiping on her bedroom. Growing up.
He wanted you, a desire so consuming it sometimes kept him up at night, thoughts confusing with something else. Probably fear, probably acceptance.
Joel is aware you changed his life. You, with your wild spirit and obnoxious laugh. You whom he couldn't tear his gaze away when standing in the same room, a magnetic force making the world around you drawn to you and that dangerous allure you had that made it impossible to resist you. To forget you. To live without you.
He feels dirty. A monster. A wolf with an insatiable hunger, sinking his canine teeth on your soft flesh. He'd drink your blood, to always keep a part of you with him; to be one. Like a lamb sent to the slaughter: but you wanted it. You had placed your head inside his jaw; trusting. As if knowing he could devour you, yet he'd never hurt you. Daring, almost.
Show me you can love me. Take a bite. Take me as yours. Mark me. Ruin me for anyone else. My blood, it belongs to you. This isn't a sacrifice―this is love.
When you exit the bathroom, hand holding the pregnancy test, it's all clear to him.
For a moment even, Joel forgets there's a world outside and sees a small baby: they have your smile, your eyes―and nothing of him, because you're the sun of his moon, the light of his darkness, and that baby is a mirror of you and your beauty. You and your warmth, devoid of his cold and far from where his filth can taint it. They have to look like you, because you are the most beautiful person in the world, and suddenly, the idea one more of you is possible, makes it feel like just you isn't enough.
"It's negative"
For the second time in the day, Joel is rendered speechless. His gaze is trained on the floor, lost in thought. Besides his lack of an answer, whatever he's thinking makes you nervous.
"Joel, are you okay?" you call out.
He swallows the lump on his throat, pose awkward before he moves next to your bed.
"M' fine, baby. C'mere" he sits over it again, motioning with his hand the empty spot next to him. Joel's embrace is warm, like it shields you from the cold harsh truth.
"Are you upset?" you ask over the comfortable silence, the underlying tension stretching like a rubber band.
"No" his answer comes quick, "but I won't lie to ya', doll. Thought for a sec and ol' man like me could give a pretty girl like yourself a baby as beautiful as their mamma"
A treacherous pink dusts your cheeks. Had you lost all your common sense? Seconds ago, your life hung by a fragile thread, and now all your body can think is to go for the same risk again. Fuck it.
"Did you? I thought you were too busy freaking out"
Joel lets out a nervous laugh. "M' a busy man, doll. Learned how to do two things at once"
A fire settles in your stomach when his touch lingers over your soft flat belly, longing.
"Hmm, I see" your fingers move from his hold to his collarbone, as they play with the buttons he hasn't wore.
"Y/n" he warns. You stop for a moment, not because you're unsure, but because when you look up, his eyes don't shine with that glint of danger and hunger that gives you the thrills. Instead, they look at you with a fondness he doesn't seem to even realize―the one that gives you the hope of it all.
"I want this" you speak up, voice confident.
"I don't think that's a good idea, doll. What'ya need is-"
"You" your face gets close to his, cutting his words and breath. Joel's adam's apple bobs, your throbbing pussy going through a Pavlovian response, such action an indicator he's surrendered to you, mouth watering at just the thought. "You said you could do two things at the same time, right? The comfort me in the only way you know"
There's hesitation on his eyes, and while you think it's because he's still hung up on the idea this isn't what you need, Joel's mind is stuck in the fact you think he can only warm your bed but not your heart. It's stupid, indeed. It can't affect him that much. Ashamed, he cuts the space hanging between your lips and traps them in a heated kiss.
"Hmh, Joel" your voice barely audible as Joel's fingers grip on your hair, his sleazy tongue sliding it's way into your mouth until you can feel it in your teeth. "Please..."
He chuckles at your neediness. "Please, what?"
"Please" you whimper, feeling your back heat with droplets of sweat under Joel's shirt, the sticky feeling akin to that starting to pool in between your thighs. "Please, make me feel good"
Joel smiles adoringly, moving your body until your legs are up his shoulders. Sure, his knees covered by his dirty worn-out jeans are ruining your fresh laundry, and his joints may crack here and there, but you don't pay mind to this little things: all you care is how he's kissing your bare thighs, his salt and pepper stubble tickling skin that feels more sensitive than ever; burning almost.
"Gon' touch 'tis pretty pussy 'til you forget y'r name, doll" he breathes out. "Will ya' let me?"
You nod eagerly as he helps you get out of your panties, throwing them somewhere around the room. You smack his arm playfully at his rough manners, but then he's pressing his lips with wet ticklish kisses on your legs and laughter bubbles at the tingles it's causing.
"S-stop, Joel!" you beg, legs shaking. Your giggles are contagious, and soon the foreign feeling lifts the corners of his scowl into a smile, a concept becoming more familiar with time.
"I ain't stopping" his fingers then graze your clit, tauntingly. You whine, as Joel doesn't let up on your clit, his calloused digits coated in your arousal. "'Tis what you asked for, baby. So 'm gonna make you feel good. So good until you can't speak nothin' that ain't my name"
The threat feels like a delicious promise, so you tell him you'll behave.
"I wanna try somethin', doll. Wait" you whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, and then he's moving your body until he's against the wall and you're on the border of the bed. With your eyes, you follow his line of view. "So needy, ain't ya'? Cockhungry slut. Jus' scared the shit out of me and now you want me inside?" he tsks. "Sick fella"
"Joel..." you breath out, desire pooling into your orbs.
"Wanna see you, doll" you see your reflection in the mirror as Joel lowers his head to whisper on your ear, eliciting goosebumps on your skin. "Want you to see yourself, too. How you'll be beggin' for me"
His middle and ring finger dip between your folds as he continues the minstrations, fingers pumping in and out as they graze your moist cunt. They start to go in circles, and even if it's not exactly next to your bed, you can see the mirror begin to fog, whines condensed in the heavy air.
His shirt clings uncomfortably to your body, but you don't care. In a way, he feels even closer to you, as if he was an extension of yourself.
Joel's body radiates heat on it's own, making the room's temperature skyrocket.
You lean your head back onto the mattress, moaning.
"Need ya' to use that pretty mouth of y'rs, doll. Say it" his fingers linger on the dip of your hips, waiting for an answer with a smirk and daring manner. "Say what ya' want; that's if you can"
It takes you a while to speak up, the slippery sound of Joel's coated fingers the only sound to be heard on your dorm.
"I... I need" you whine through labored pants, "I need you, Joel"
I need you, Joel. It's in the heat of the moment, really, yet on that very instant, he makes a silent vow that hangs unspoken in the air.
"Good girl" he bites your earlobe, making a chill run down your spine.
His fingers fuck into you just how you like it: swirling to explore your inner tight walls.
"Fuck. Love how your pussy takes me, doll. 'S mine, isn't it? Say it, say who this pussy belongs to. Who's the only man allowed to have it"
You close your eyes, but the answer comes clear. "You, Joel. Just you"
You whine, feeling him go harder in a new-found confidence. Your nails dig on his biceps, but he doesn't flich, still busy burying his fingers inside your clit as his mouth continues spilling filthy shit you barely can comprehend, mind starting to go numb.
Normally, Joel would make you cum on his fingers, always making sure to lick it after, claiming it was bad manners to leave to waste. But today, the clock ticking in your wall, he knows he must hurry.
"Eager, eh?" you taunt back, seeing how quickly he's pulling down his underwear, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.
Your dripping cunt welcomes his cock, tip teasing your entrance.
"Don't" he seethes.
"Don't?" you laugh. "Don't what, laugh?"
His fingers grab your jaw tightly, forcing you to look behind you.
"Don't stop lookin', doll"
Joel slips the tip of his cock into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady you. He looks at you through the mirror, seeing your dazed eyes, waiting as you bite your lip.
"That's it, good girl" he praises, purring against your ear. You see his face go down and lick the side of your neck before sinking his teeth in it. "Gonna reward you for'at"
Your mouth falls agape when he fully pushes his cock inside of you, burying himself to the limit in the first thrust. You moan, stretch wet pussy trying to adjust to his girth. He groans, his hips moving back and forth with yours, to meet his thrusts.
"R-right there" you whimper, feeling eyes starting to water. It had been a long day, and with his cock buried deep inside you, you can't think of anything else: just him―like this, for the rest of your life; you don't need more. "Fuck, don't stop"
His thumb rubs across your cheekbone, capturing a tear that had slipped past your foggy mind in a brittle moment of vulnerability, brown eyes flickering with something else. It could be.
We could be.
"Fuck, you cryin' over this cock, doll? What'a fuckin' slut" he laughs incredulously, but there's a hidden fondness to it. "S' that how good 'm makin' you feel?"
You can only moan, his dick harder now, his infatuation with your fucked-out state evident in the way his movements become more hectic.
"Can't even speak? What'a dirty minx inside 'tis sexy little body"
"Mhm" you blabber, tears running hot down your cheeks, landing on the mattress in fat droplets, noticeable through the reflection even. Joel stares back at your puffy eyes, devotion pouring at your glossy gaze, coated in a faint red tint, more pronounced from your earlier cries. Fuck. Never did he think your lambent eyes and sniffle sounds could turn him on this much. Something about him being the cause of it has his head spinning.
"New rule" he growls, "you keep those pretty red eyes lookin' at me when you cum"
You whimper at his words, the powerful aura they carry pushing your orgasm closer to the edge. You feel your tight folds clenching around his cock, hands holding to his back while your nails dig in it. You feel yourself approaching your release, multiple tears escaping down your cheekbone. In an obscene gesture, it isn't his thumb but his tongue what removes the wet stream from your body, feeling the salty drops on his tastebuds.
You were already so worked up, it was a matter of seconds before you could cum at any moment. Your walls clench around his length, and before you can process, Joel pulls your body up, caging your tits until they're pressed against his soft chest. You face the white paint of your wall, and Joel can see your back in the mirror as he's still buried inside of you. You gasp at the change in position, all of the sudden, a painfull delicious sensation flooding your senses.
"You're gonna cum, aren't ya', doll?" Joel's asking, hot breath nestled in your neck.
"Hmh" you barely manage to blurt as he fucks into you harder, your arms clutching onto him. You were being so loud now that you were sure you'd get at least one noise complain, hoping it stays there; if they found out not only had you been fucking, but with a fourty year old man who happpened to be the father of your bestfriend, you'd probably get expelled. "So close..."
"You know?" he whispers, voice fragile over the sound of your pants and worked up breaths. "I was scared, ealier. M' sorry you had to see that" your body trembles, making you close your eyes. "But I need ya' to know, for'a moment, I did think about having a kid with you"
Your forehead drips with sweat, mixing with the sodium of your tears.
"Maybe in 'nother life, huh?"
Your heart feels like it's about to burst when he sloppily kisses you, as to prevent any words come out of your mouth―humilliating or full of regret, avoiding the heart ache of a rejection. Joel, for a moment, lets his heart wander off to territories he shouldn't, thinking of things he should leave to be. Joel digs his hole deeper, but he doesn't care: he just wants to be the best grave in your cementery.
"Maybe" you answer, but it sounds like a possibility, the promise of a foolish mind betraying the guarded hidden hope.
"Fuck, Joel" you bury your face against his soft pecs, your orgasm crashing over you. Your whine comes our rather loud, trying to drown the sound against his body. He doesn't stop holding you on his arms, firm; you'd probably fallen if he didn't.
"Wait for me, doll. 'M close"
"Please" you plead, kissing his jaw. "Need you. Want to feel you, Joel"
Not daddy, but his name. I want you. I need you. Want to feel you; for you to fill me. He groans, rhythm sloppy as he crashes his lips into yours. he should stop, especially after today's events, but God, his traitorous head is filled with images of you, belly round with his child, one carved to be the spitting image of you.
Do it.
You moan inside his mouth when you feel him finish inside of you, thick, your fingers running through his dark greying hair damp with sweat.
"M' right here" he says his words from earlier, and you feel yourself hugging him to keep his body next to yours even as he pulls out.
"I know" you hum, arms around his neck. "Thank you for coming"
"What of both?"
You let out a laugh.
"Jesus, Joel" but your tone is devoid of malice, adquiring that layer to it, just like his own. There's a shift in the air, and if you felt it before, now you know there's no point of return. "You sure are something else"
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dts: @ann-gell; angél de mi corazón, tkm mucho, gracias por llegar a mi vida, ah.
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mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 6 days ago
Text
"BIRDS OF A FEATHER"
Yall I am literally sleep deprived and I'm 90 percent sure im gonna fail my math exam. I wrote this to try and calm down but I feel like it sucks. I literally spent like 3 hours on this so be nice pls. Lmk what you think and if you have any questions! Send in asks! Love yall! Thank you for supporting my trash writing LMAO.
Prologue:,Chapter 1: Chapter 2: Chapter 3: Chapter 4:
The moment you stepped off the plane, a strange sense of dread washed over you. Gotham City. The place you had spent years trying to fit in. Here you were again, bound by some invisible force to the very people you had spent your life chasing after. "The Batfamily". The same family who had neglected you for years. Who had hurt you emotionally, time and time again, making you feel small and invisible. Making you feel worthless. And yet, now, they all seemed desperate to make things right. To make up for replacing you with Traitor Tiffany. Tiffany who stole your life, who copied everything you said and did to a T.
Tiffany who they loved for that year before she was exposed.
You were going to ignore them. For the next two weeks, you would just do your best to make it through, keeping your distance and focusing on the countdown to when you'd be back at boarding school in New York. That was your escape, your sanctuary.
But as you entered the manor, the familiar echo of its grand hall made you feel a strange weight in your chest. The vast space, once cold and intimidating, now felt like it was closing in on you. The walls, the grand staircase, and even the ancient floors seemed to watch you.
You barely had time to drop your bags in the entryway before you were ambushed by them. All of them.
“Hey!” Dick’s voice was light and cheerful, far too cheerful considering everything. You didn’t even look up at him, not even when he wrapped you in a tight hug. You didn't bother hugging him back. You weren’t sure if it was because you were tired, or because you just didn’t feel like dealing with his overbearing presence, but you kept your focus on your phone, fingers tapping away as you scrolled through messages from Ariel, Claire, and Rory
“You’re coming back in 2 weeks right? imy alr” “NYC is lame as fuck w out u. come back now.” “Call me literally everyday. two weeks is wayyyyy too long”
They didn’t know about this—your insanely weird family of spandex wearing losers. They didn’t know about Tiffany, or the spy drama, or how everything had shifted when you were 15 or that you were technically half snake. All they knew was that you were just you, and they loved you for it. This summer was the highlight of your life.
And now, here you were, trapped with them for two weeks, trying to figure out how to survive without completely losing your mind.
“Hey, kid” Dick repeated, taking a step closer, his words coming out strangely awkward and nervous. Good, he should be nervous. “come on. Let’s grab breakfast, yeah? You can’t be all that hungry, but we are. It’s family time. You wouldn’t want to miss it.” He smiled at you like you were a little kid.
You felt your lip curl into a slight frown, but you kept your eyes on your phone. Since when did this whole family breakfast include you?All you wanted to do right now was sleep. “I’m good. Not hungry.”
Bruce appeared from the shadows, his heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway before you saw his face. The expression on his face wasn’t the cold indifference you remembered. It was warm. Too warm. He tried to hug you, but you quickly dodged him like he had the cooties. He took it like a champ, brushed it off and acted like he was reaching for your Goyard.
“(Y/N),” he said quietly, like he was trying to be gentle. "We’re having breakfast together. You don’t want to miss out on the family time. It’s important that we all reconnect.”
You didn’t even look up at him. You could practically feel the weight of his words pressing down on you. Reconnect? How could they possibly want to “reconnect” after all the years of neglect? The years of pretending you didn’t exist?
“I’m just fine here,” you muttered, fingers still flying across the screen as you tried to walk up the stairs.
Bruce didn’t take the hint. “Come on. You should eat something. It’s good for you.”
You wanted to snap at him, tell him you were tired of being treated like a child. But you didn’t. You were too tired for all that. Instead, you sighed. "I said I’m fine. I ate on the plane.”
Jason’s voice cut through the tension, his ever-present smirk on his face as he sauntered into the room, tossing his jacket over his shoulder. "Damn, it’s already this bad?" He raised an eyebrow at Bruce, then smirked at you. “Come on, little bird, you’re too grown up for us now, huh? Don’t you want to at least pretend to like us? Have too much fun over in St. Tropez? Too cool to hang out with your big brother?”
You rolled your eyes at his antics, suddenly annoyed. "Actually, yeah. Ya'll are lowkey losers." You were harsher than necessary but you wanted to make sure Jason got the hint. Make it known you haven't really forgiven him.
They were all obviously taken aback by your new attitude and mean girl habits, all too shocked to say anything.
Tim followed behind Jason, his ever-curious eyes flicking from you to Bruce, then to Dick. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead just shrugged, settling into a lean against the wall.
“You don’t have to join us, but it’s not like you have a choice,” he added, his voice calm but firm, like he was waiting for you to push back. “We’re not letting you hide in your room forever.”
You scoffed, "So i don't have a choice. Bit of a contradiction there, smartass."
Your sure you heard Bruce mutter something about language but Tim simply side-eyed you and brushed it off, his confidence unwavering.
Cass entered next, moving quietly, as always. But her gaze, there was something in it. A kind of quiet insistence, like she wanted to make sure you didn’t slip away unnoticed. You’d always hated how silent she was, how intense her focus could be.
“Breakfast,” she said, her tone not quite a question, not quite a statement. It was just her way of saying we’re doing this, whether you want to or not.
You groaned, slumping a little as you looked up from your phone. “I’m literally only here for two weeks. I don’t need to sit with you guys at every meal. That's so lame.”
At that, Bruce stepped closer. His hand rested on your shoulder, a touch so gentle you barely felt it, but the weight of it was enough to make your heart skip. “You’re staying here for two weeks, and we’re all going to make the most of this time,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You’re part of this family. And that means we all spend time together. You don’t get to hide anymore.”
The room seemed to grow quieter, and you could feel the heat of everyone’s attention on you. They were all looking at you—waiting for you to say something, do something. It was unsettling. Unbearable.
You finally snapped, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “I just want to talk to my friends, okay?” You waved your phone at them. “We were actually having a conversation before all of you interrupted.”
A soft laugh escaped Damian's lips, but it wasn’t kind. “You’ve got better things to do than talk to those people. You have to make up for your misconduct from last time. And tell us what you did while in St. Tropez.” There he goes again, speaking like an 80 year old man.
You felt a sudden wave of unease as you glanced at him, then at Jason and Tim. They both seemed to be looking at your phone with a sharp intensity. What was that about?
You tried to ignore it. You had to. But the more you looked at your friends’ messages, the more you realized that even your phone couldn’t offer you peace here. Bruce was standing too close. Dick’s eyes wouldn’t leave you. Tim was still leaning against the wall, his gaze locked on you with that knowing, calculating look that made your stomach twist.
Jason finally broke the silence with a lazy, teasing grin. “Don’t be a brat. You don’t need to text anyone right now, you've been gone two months. You've got me now.”
You rolled your eyes again and you couldn't stop the words from slipping out, "Oh yeah jason? How long have i got you for? Till some shiny new sister comes in? Or will you expire before that? Do I get you for 2 weeks or 3 or-"
Jason's face fell, he obviously thought he was forgiven just because of your conversation the night before you left and because you replied to his messages occasionally.
Bruce stepped forward cutting you off, taking pity on jason, "Enough. I understand your frustration, but we are trying. Let us try before you shut us out." He said his tone stern, he was demanding a chance to redeem himself, not asking.
Before you could protest, Damian spoke up, his voice still a bit too soft for comfort. “You will stay here with us. You’ll see, it’ll be better for you.”
Punk. If he was a normal kid brother, you would've long made him stop talking to you like that.
You gritted your teeth, fangs coming out and stood up from the couch, locking your phone and stuffing it into your pocket. “Fine,” you muttered, “I’ll go to breakfast. But don’t expect me to start liking all this.”
Bruce smiled, just slightly. It was subtle, but there was something behind it. Something that made your skin crawl.
“Good,” he said, his voice almost too soothing. “We’re all here for you now.”
You walked toward the dining room with Bruce close behind you, his hand on your lower back as if ensuring you wouldn't runaway, a small, constant pressure that felt both grounding and suffocating. You wanted to shrug it off, but the thought of doing that in front of the others was too much. The others who were still watching, still waiting. You could almost feel their eyes on you like they were tracking your every movement, waiting for any sign of resistance.
As you passed through the grand entryway, you could hear Alfred’s familiar voice calling from the kitchen, his tone as warm and fatherly as ever. “Ah, there you are, Young Miss. I’ve made your favorite this morning. Scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and Pancakes” He turned to face you with a soft smile, but it faltered when he noticed the scowl on your face. “I hope you’re feeling well. It’s important that you eat something substantial, especially after a long flight.”
You nodded noncommittally, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Alfred. I’m not really hungry, though…”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll change your mind once you see it,” Alfred said with a knowing wink. “Come now, don’t make me chase you down for a seat.”
He motioned for you to sit at the table. Dick, already seated with a glass of juice, grinned at you like you were a little kid being coaxed into something.
“Come on, just sit,” he said, motioning to the empty chair next to him. “It’ll be fun. It’s family time, remember?”
You could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on you. It was suffocating. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to play along with their sudden act of being a family after years of neglect. But you knew if you didn’t sit, if you didn’t comply in some way, they would only dig in their heels harder.
You sat down, pulling your chair in with a slight sigh. You didn’t want to, but it felt like the lesser of two evils. Jason gave you a little smirk from across the table, while Tim and Damian were already deeply engaged in a quiet conversation, glancing at you occasionally as if waiting to see how you'd react.
He spoke again, voice bright, like he was trying to lift the mood. "So, … what’s new with you? I bet you’ve been busy, huh? Euro summer? Did you have fun?" He smiled at you, but there was something in his eyes, something that lingered a little too long, like he was waiting for a response he had already anticipated.
You felt like a child that stole cookies from the cookie jar, "Yeah pretty fun. Didn't do much though." You shrugged trying to sound casual.
Bruce sat at the head of the table, the others falling into place around you. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, almost searching, before he turned his attention to the food. He wasn’t pushing, not yet. But there was a quiet, insistent presence in the way he looked at you.
“You know, (Y/N), it’s not just about the food. It’s about spending time together,” Bruce said, the softness in his voice unusual, almost too gentle for someone like him. “This is important. It’s part of being a family. We’ve missed you.”
You didn’t respond immediately. You didn’t know what to say. It all felt so fake. The kindness, the attempts to bond—it was all wrapped up in a layer of suffocating control.
Dick spoke again, trying to make you crack, to bring out the oversharer in you he remembered, "Any plans? Got anything to do?"
You shrugged, offering him only a brief glance before focusing on your plate. "Nothing much. Just school stuff."
"School stuff?" Bruce’s voice cut through, the sternness returning as his eyes bore into you. "What do you mean by ‘school stuff’? You’re not getting into trouble, are you?"
Your eyes flicked to him, and for a moment, you could feel the weight of his gaze. It was almost protective, but you didn't want that anymore. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You were done with the overbearing dad act. You were 16 now—not a little girl who needed constant monitoring. You didn't need his attention, not anymore.
You picked up your fork and took a bite of the scrambled eggs, more out of habit than actual hunger. They were good, just like Alfred’s cooking always was. But the taste felt like nothing in your mouth.
“I was texting my friends,” you said quietly, breaking the silence, your eyes flicking to your phone where the notifications from your friends were still blowing up. “They wanted to check I got here okay. I—”
Bruce cut you off before you could say more. “We understand that, ” he said, his voice low but firm, like a quiet warning. “But right now, you’re with us. And this time, we don’t want you distracted by those friends. You were with them for 3 months. It's family time now.”
You blinked at him, feeling a little breathless at the sudden sharpness of his words. Was that... affection? It was subtle, but it was there, in the way he spoke. It made your chest tighten. There was never family time before, at least none that included you.
“Don’t be rude,” Dick interjected, his tone light but with an edge of something else. He was looking at you more seriously now, no longer the playful older brother. “You can text your friends later. But right now, you’re here with us. And you’re going to enjoy it.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but your phone buzzed again in your pocket, and this time, it was an unknown number. You pulled it out reluctantly, glancing at the screen. It was a guy from your European trip, the french prince, one you had been texting occasionally during the summer.
But before you could even open the message, Damian’s sharp eyes caught sight of the name, and his expression hardened just slightly. He straightened, his voice suddenly tight. “Who is that?”
You looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing. Nosy much? “None of your fucking business,” you snapped without thinking.
The room went quiet. Too quiet. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, and you could feel the heat of their gazes like a thousand little pricks against your skin.
“Don’t get upset, (Y/N),” Bruce’s voice was almost soothing, but there was a new intensity to it. “We just care about you. You don’t need to talk to them all the time. You’re not going to be alone anymore.”
It wasn’t just a promise,—it was an expectation. . You realized, with growing unease, that it was a practically a threat.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Again. The sound was a welcome distraction, but you knew exactly what it was: a flood of texts from Ariel, Claire, and Rory. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you could sneak a glance without drawing too much attention. Should you risk it after what happened not even a minutes ago? But before you could decide, Bruce’s eyes locked onto yours.
“Let me see that,” he said, his voice smooth but commanding. It wasn’t a request. “Who are you talking to?”
You froze for a split second, caught off guard by his intensity. The entire table fell silent, all eyes on you. You hadn’t realized how quiet they had gotten until now.
You hesitated before responding and quickly shoved your phone out of reach. “It’s just my friends from school, the ones I spent the summer with.”
Only after you explained did you realize that you didn't owe him an explanation.
Jason raised an eyebrow, his playful tone dropping just enough to sound dangerous. “Really? Because it looks like you’re texting someone from Europe, given the country code and all.”
Your heart skipped. You had been texting Ariel, and now your friends were practically spamming you in the group chat. "The girls!!" you named it that just to be petty after leaving the one with Barbra, Cass, and Steph. You didn't even think about how it might look to the family, who had all but cornered you into their web of attention. You didn’t want to admit it, but now you felt the pressure. How long would they keep this up?
“I’m not doing anything wrong,” you muttered, finally pulling your phone out and swiping away from the notifications, deciding to put it on Do Not Disturb around these psychos. You had a sudden, uncomfortable sense of guilt, like they were expecting you to explain yourself to them.
It was quiet and awkward for the rest of breakfast.
The morning after breakfast felt like an eternity. You had expected them to back off, to give you space after your little outburst, but no. The Batfamily had different plans. They were relentless. They didn’t just want to bond with you; they needed to bond with you. It was like a mission they had assigned themselves, as if they could somehow erase the years of neglect in just two weeks.
You knew better than to expect anything close to normal from them. But this was too much.
It started innocently enough, Bruce knocking on your room door, his usual stoic expression softening when he saw you sitting on the edge of your bed, surrounded by your belongings. You had been trying to shut out the noise of the manor, scrolling through your phone, ignoring the countless texts from your guys you met and the relentless buzz of Gotham in your head.
“Hey,” he said, his voice smooth, but there was a hint of something in it. Concern? Hope? You didn’t want to figure it out.
“Can we talk?”
You didn’t even look up, too busy focusing on the group chat from the girls. You weren’t ready to face him. Or anyone else. Especially not after breakfast. They all thought they had it figured out.
“You can talk to me while I’m on my phone,” you said flatly. “I’m busy.”
Bruce didn’t even flinch at your indifference. He took a step inside, shutting the door behind him as he sat on the edge of your bed. His presence felt heavy, like he was trying to make himself at home in a space that wasn’t his.
“You know, we’ve missed you, these two months felt like two years” he started softly, like that would somehow change the years of absence between you two. “I know this has been hard for you, but we’re trying. I’m trying. I’m just... trying to make up for lost time.” His hand hovered over the space next to you, but you didn’t budge.
“Stop trying so hard. You’re not going to fix anything, Bruce,” you muttered, your fingers tapping away on the screen.
“I don’t need to fix anything,” His voice was gentler now. “I just want to be here for you.”
Your eyes flicked over to him, and for a moment, you saw the guilt in his eyes. He was fighting against something, holding back. He was being real, honest. But you couldn’t let it get to you.
“I don’t need you to be here,” you said, your tone icy. “I’m not some little kid who needs you hovering over me, not anymore.”
He sighed, the disappointment in his voice sharp. "I know. I know, kid. But you are my daughter. And I’m not going to let you go through this alone. Not again. Especially with your..... abilities.”
The words felt like bullets, it hurt, the more he spoke the more you hurt. You just wanted him to go away.
The awkward silence that followed stretched on too long. Finally, Bruce stood up. His eyes lingered on you one last time before he opened the door. “Okay, but just know, I’m here when you’re ready to talk. I'll always be here.”
For the next two weeks, the family got more insistent on spending time with. The only thing that kept you going was that it would be over soon, or so you thought.
Damian was always the silent observer. The kid who knew how to push all your buttons without saying a word, the little brother who constantly attacked and ridiculed you.
One evening, he shows up at your door, a subtle shift in his body language telling you something’s up. His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s trying to break down the walls, bit by bit.
"Move over," he said, his voice devoid of its usual bite. Instead, it carried a strange urgency. He was holding a pillow, clutching onto it like a lifeline.
You narrowed your eyes, a growl rising in your throat. What the hell does he want now?
“No. What’s your problem?” You shot him a glare, rolling over on your bed, trying to make it clear you had no interest in him being there.
He didn’t move. He just stood there, waiting.
"Come on," he says flatly, crossing his arms, a rare hint of vulnerability in his tone. "It’s just for a little while. You used to bother me about this, don’t be so difficult now."
“Why are you always so insistent on being a brat? I've forgiven you for attacking me,” he muttered, stepping closer. “When we were younger, you always insisted on cuddling, begged for it even, always tried hugging me. You’ve grown up, yes, but that doesn’t mean things should change.”
When you refuse, Damian has none of it. He steps inside, closes the door behind him, and sits on your bed without asking. His demeanor is as sharp as ever, but his eyes flick to you constantly, waiting, hoping for some sign of compromise.
He walked toward the bed, pulling the blankets aside as if he was entitled to your space. You felt a flicker of that old resentment stir inside you, but the pressure of everything else, the family trying so hard to pretend everything was fine, Bruce’s repeated insistence on your bonding, the suffocating feeling that had followed you since you arrived, made you just want to give in.
You scoffed. “I grew up because you wouldn’t leave me alone when I was younger. You used to beat me up for trying to get close, remember? You literally threw me down a set of stairs. You never wanted to ‘bond’ then.”
He tilted his head slightly, his lips twisting into a brief frown. “Because you were insufferable.” His voice softened, a little, but still cold. “But I’m not the same as I was. Neither are you.
And then, without warning, he scoots closer, his shoulders stiff, as if awaiting your wrath. You almost let out a laugh; he still hasn't realized that maybe you don't want the cuddles anymore. But his face betrays something else: a quiet desperation. You could almost feel his need for connection, like he’s trying to make up for all those years.
He shifts awkwardly, a hand touching his hair, trying to mimic what you once did: the slight tap on his shoulder, the gentle nudge. But as he waits for you to break, you just stare at him, no words exchanged.
And that’s when he did something you didn’t expect: he laid down beside you, just like when you did to him when you were younger. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t even seem to care that you clearly were about to strangle him.
You went still, your heart pounding as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into an uncomfortable cuddle. You wanted to push him off, but you couldn’t, not when he was being so vulnerable.
Instead, you just shut your eyes, and let the anger mix with the humiliation. You wouldn't admit it, but it felt nice.
Dick was the first to bombard you with affection every morning for two weeks straight. He’s like the human embodiment of sunshine, and you can’t help but feel the weight of his unrelenting kindness. He tries to coax you into breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinners... you name it. His tactic? Overload you with so much “family time” that eventually, you’ll give in.
He makes it a point to show you that he’s willing to work on your relationship. Every morning he’s there with a bright, goofy grin, telling you stories of his past adventures. He tries, in vain, to get you laughing with ridiculous anecdotes about the circus, Batman, and his early days in the Teen Titans. He stopped once you asked him for Connor's number and another topless picture if him.
At night, he tries to “reconnect” by suggesting game nights or silly activities like arts and crafts. “Come on, you loved painting when you were younger!” he’d say, pushing a small set of watercolor paints toward you, clearly hoping for a nostalgic response. But you’re not having it. You just roll your eyes and text your friends, but he stays close by, watching. He doesn’t pressure you, but you can feel his eyes lingering, waiting for the moment when you finally break.
But the moments are few, and even though you keep pushing him away, there’s a slight glimmer in his eyes every time he talks about when you’ll finally bond.
You avoided Duke like the plague, hiding everytime he came too close looking to hopeful. His betrayal was too fresh.
Jason tried to appeal to you in ways that are typical of him: snark, sarcasm, and outright bad-boy energy. He brings up old memories he knows you cherish, things that will make you cave. He walks around the manor like he owns the place, tossing out insults and lighthearted teasing every time you pass by. He’ll try to lure you into movie nights, always choosing the most ridiculously bad action movies, or challenge you to random things in the game room.
“Bet you can’t beat me in this game,” he’ll say, tossing a controller at you. “Come on, I’m the pro around here.”
It’s his way of bonding, of trying to “get you” in his own unique, unpredictable way. He also, strangely, gives you random moments of tenderness, moments that remind you of the old Jason, grabbing your shoulder when you least expect it, offering a smirk that’s soft when no one’s looking. But like everything else, it’s hard to believe this is real.
Your trust and abandonment issues ran too deep to believe any of them were genuine, though they all clearly were.
After a particularly annoying spat one day, where you ignored him all day, he jokingly announced, “If you didn’t have that attitude, maybe we could actually have a decent time. Just saying.”
In moments like that, you feel the thrum of tension in the air, the frustration of someone trying to connect with you and the knowledge that you're just too far gone to care right now. Now he felt how you did. Still, Jason's persisted and it’s obvious he won’t give up anytime soon.
Your entire existence had become one giant performance for them. The two weeks finally came to an end and so did your torture. You and the girls spent all night calling as you packed and they planned you a 'freedom celebration' that would start as soon as you got to Rory's house.
The two weeks really were torture, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went to sleep, it was like you were the star of a reality show you never agreed to. Every time you tried to slip away, to find some peace of mind, they were there, trying to draw you back in.
Alfred had begun preparing “family dinners,” encouraging you to join in at the table, asking you questions about your life like they hadn’t been absent for years.
Dick insisted on taking you out on family outings, making sure you were included in everything from movie nights to visits to the Gotham Zoo.
Cass would show up randomly in your room with little presents, a sketchbook, or a necklace. “For you,” she’d say with her quiet smile, a silent plea for you to forgive them.
Tim’s persistent attempts to engage you in every intellectual conversation, trying to get you to talk about everything and nothing at once, began to feel like a strange form of manipulation.
And Jason? Jason kept throwing out random quips, trying so hard to get a rise out of you, until the sarcasm wore thin and left a bitter taste in your mouth. It wasn’t funny anymore.
You couldn't wait to leave.
The morning of your flight, Bruce called you into his office, a serious expression on his face. “Good Morning,” he began, his voice a little too calm. “I need to talk to you about something.”
You stared at him, confused. “What?”
“You’re not going back to boarding school,” he said quietly, locking eyes with you. “It’s not safe. Tiffany escaped and is working with Patience again. They’ll come for you. They’ll come for all of us.”
Your blood ran cold. Tiffany. The girl who had stolen your life. The one who had tried to replace you. The one who had made everything about her and who had tricked the Batfamily into thinking she was you. Now she was ruining your escape.
“No. I’m not staying,” you spat. “I can’t be here. I won’t be here.”
“You have to stay here,” Bruce said, his voice firm, unwavering. “For your safety.”
“You can’t do this!” you screamed, jumping up from your seat, your fangs flashing as your emotions took over. “I don’t want to stay here! I want to go back! I’ll be fine in New York! You can’t keep me here!
But Bruce wasn’t backing down. His tone remained soft, even as the finality of his words sank in. “You’re staying in Gotham. And you’ll go to Gotham Prep. It’s safer.”
“No!” You felt the weight of your anger burst out of you. The room seemed to shrink. “I’m not going to Gotham Prep. I won’t stay here. I won’t live in this—prison!”
Tears welled in your eyes, hot and angry, and you could feel the pressure building inside you, the need to break free. But as your eyes met Bruce's, you realized—he was immune. He didn’t look scared of your fangs. He didn’t fear your powers, he didn't fall into your manipulation.
You later found out from Jason that Tim and Damian had been working on a serum, after what happened with Tiffany. A serum that made them immune to your powers.
There was no escaping now, not till you were 18 and Tiffany behind bars.
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