#when she's frustrated or feeling aggressive

[00valentina-writes00]

Sexually pent up reader x Abby

Please I beg of thee

So..I wrote headcanons first then I wrote a smut for ya dirty animals

✞⛧ Abby being pent up ✞⛧

✞⛧ During the day, Abby tries to keep it together. She’s used to being in control, so she’s mostly quiet, a little distant, but there’s this energy around her that’s hard to ignore. She might be a bit more focused than usual, like she’s trying to push everything down, but you’ll catch her glancing at you more often than she means to, like she’s waiting for something.

✞⛧ The tension builds up over the course of the day. At some point, she’ll be so pent up that the usual calm, cool Abby you know starts to crack. Her shoulders are tense, and if you’re close enough, she might even reach for you, touching your hand or your back like she’s trying to ground herself. But you know better—it’s her way of silently begging you to feel it too.

✞⛧ When she finally gets to you, Abby’s not rough for the sake of being rough, but she’s definitely more assertive than usual. It’s like she’s been holding herself back all day, and now she can’t help but take control. Expect firm, deliberate movements, her body pushing against yours with a clear sense of urgency. It’s not about being brutal, but it’s about finally being able to release all that pent-up frustration.

✞⛧ Abby’s words come out a little differently when she’s like this. She’s more demanding, her voice low and a little rough, like she’s been holding something back. “You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” she might say, her hands gripping your hips or wrists as she guides you where she wants you. “You know how bad I need this.”

✞⛧ If she uses a strap on you, Abby’s approach is controlled but with a clear intention to push you right to the edge. She’s methodical about it, making sure you feel every inch of her. She won’t rush, but she’s a little more forceful than usual, not letting you forget how much she wants this. You can feel her eyes on you, watching you carefully, making sure you’re just as into it as she is.

✞⛧ When she’s using the strap, she’s incredibly focused, her grip on your waist tight as she moves in and out of you. Every thrust is deliberate, as if she’s making sure you feel every second of it. She’s a little more vocal, groaning when she can feel you getting closer, her own desire bleeding into her actions.

✞⛧ If she’s really pent up, and the two of you are out in the woods or somewhere secluded, she’ll make it clear she wants you then and there. There’s something primal about Abby when she’s like this. She might pin you up against a tree, pressing you into the rough bark with her body. Her lips are on your neck, her hands pulling at your clothes, not caring about anything except the way you make her feel. It’s raw, quick, and messy—but she’s just so lost in the moment, in that need to have you.

✞⛧ She won’t be gentle, but she’ll make sure you’re safe and comfortable. When she’s this pent up, she’s driven by desire, but she still wants to take care of you, to make sure that even in the roughness, you’re enjoying it too. Her voice will be commanding but still loving. “Let me take care of you. I need this,” she’ll murmur against your ear, while her hands make sure you’re exactly where she wants you.

✞⛧ Afterward, though, Abby’s always tender. Even if she’s been aggressive or commanding, she’ll soften once it’s over. Her arms will wrap around you, pulling you close. She’ll kiss your forehead, trace your skin with her fingers, and silently apologize with her touch for being so rough earlier. You’ll know it’s not about punishing you—it was about a need she couldn’t control, and she makes up for it in the quiet moments afterward.

✞⛧ All of this, though, is rooted in Abby’s need to connect. She doesn’t do this just for herself. There’s an emotional side to it all—a sense of intimacy that goes beyond just physical release. Even when she’s lost in her own pent-up need, she still wants you to know that you’re her focus, her priority.

————————————————————————

The cabin is suffocating, thick with heat and the scent of pine, sweat, and the lingering musk of the rain-soaked earth outside. The lantern flickers low, throwing long shadows across the wooden walls, but all you can focus on is her.

Abby is pacing, shoulders tense, fists clenching at her sides like she’s barely keeping something inside. Her jaw is tight, lips pressed together, and those sharp blue eyes keep flicking to you—watching, waiting. The air between you is charged, crackling like a storm about to break.

The second you step inside, the tension snaps.

She’s on you before you can react, a blur of muscle and heat, pressing you back against the door with enough force to rattle the wood. Her breath is hot against your neck, her body solid, huge against yours, pinning you in place.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me all fucking day.�� Her voice is low, rough, barely controlled.

Her hands grab at your waist, fingers digging in like she’s trying to ground herself—but there’s nothing steady about the way she touches you. It’s desperate, hungry, like she’s been starving and you’re the only thing that’ll satisfy her.

Her mouth crashes into yours, no pretense, no hesitation—just heat and need and a possessiveness that leaves you breathless. She bites at your lip, dragging a groan from your throat before shoving her tongue into your mouth, swallowing the sound whole.

Her hands are already working beneath your shirt, rough palms sliding up your ribs, thumbs brushing over your nipples just enough to make you shudder. She growls against your mouth at the reaction, pressing her thigh between your legs and grinding up against you.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet.”

You don’t get a chance to answer. Her hand is right there, shoving past your waistband, fingers slipping through your slick folds like she knew you’d be dripping for her.

She exhales sharply, forehead pressing against yours. “Fuck.” It’s a guttural sound, like she’s barely holding on, like she’s been waiting too long for this.

Then, suddenly, she’s gone. Her warmth disappears for a second before you feel strong hands gripping your thighs, lifting you like you weigh nothing. A gasp tears from your lips as she carries you across the room and throws you onto the bed, your body bouncing against the mattress.

Abby is already stripping—yanking off her tank top, undoing her belt with a sharp tug, her muscles flexing under the lantern light. She looks wrecked already, flushed and restless, like she’s been holding herself back all fucking day and now that she’s got you here, she’s done waiting.

“You’re mine tonight.” The words are dark, hoarse, and before you can process them, she’s crawling over you, pressing you down with the full weight of her body.

The second her bare skin meets yours, a sharp heat floods through you. She’s burning up, her broad shoulders blocking out everything but her, her thigh slipping between yours, pressing against your soaked cunt with unbearable pressure.

She moves against you, slow at first, dragging it out, teasing, making you squirm beneath her. Then, suddenly, her grip on your hips tightens—and she grinds down hard.

“Fuck—Abby—” The sound rips from your throat, raw and desperate.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me.”

She doesn’t ease up. Her movements are controlled but rough, pushing against you in tight, deliberate rolls that send sparks shooting through your core. She’s fucking you against the bed like she’s got something to prove, like she wants to ruin you completely.

“God, I can feel you fucking shaking.” Her voice is wrecked, her breathing ragged as she keeps up the pace, sweat slicking between you, her body trembling with the effort to not completely lose control.

Her fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you spread wide as she presses harder, moves faster, chasing that unbearable friction between you both.

“I need to see you fall apart,” she pants against your ear, her teeth nipping at your earlobe. “I need you to fucking drench me.”

The heat coils tighter, unbearable, white-hot pleasure pooling low in your stomach. Abby feels it before you do, the way your muscles tense, the way your hips stutter against hers, and she growls, moving harder, faster, pushing you over the edge.

You come hard, clinging to her as a sharp cry tears from your throat, your body tensing, then shaking beneath her.

Abby doesn’t stop. She grinds through it, fucking milking your orgasm until you’re gasping, trembling, completely wrecked beneath her.

And when the aftershocks finally settle, when you’re left boneless and panting against the sheets, Abby presses a rough kiss to your jaw, her breath still hot and uneven.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

And from the way she’s still holding you, still rocking her hips against yours—

You know she means it.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

have you heard of cute aggression i imagine mc having a case of this with sebastian and he's like well at least it's cus she loves me

At Least She Loves Me | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Omg ofc I know what cute aggression is and I LOVED WRITING THIS. ID CHOMP SEBASTIAN TOO IF I COILD.

Words: ~700

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House, Fluff

Sebastian Sallow had no idea what he had done to deserve this.

It wasn’t that he was complaining, necessarily. He liked when you paid attention to him—sought it out, even. But the way you were staring at him now, like a kneazle about to pounce, was putting him on edge.

He tried to ignore it at first. He really did.

But he could feel your gaze burning into the side of his face, your fingers twitching like you were physically holding yourself back from doing something rash. He did his best to focus on the essay in front of him, quill scratching steadily against the parchment, but when you huffed—a dramatic little exhale that was so very you—he finally snapped.

“You’re staring.”

“Mm.”

Sebastian lifted his head slowly, as if moving too fast would provoke you into an attack. “What now?”

“You’re being too cute again.”

Sebastian blinked. Once. Twice. Then, just to be sure, “Pardon?”

“You heard me.”

He set his quill down, eyeing you suspiciously. “I really don’t think I did.”

“You do cute things, Sebastian.” You gestured vaguely at him, your hands moving like you were trying to physically pluck the words from the air. “And it’s making me lose my mind.”

Sebastian leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms along the top of it as he smirked. “Go on.”

“See?! This! This is what I mean! You’re all smug about it, which makes it worse!”

He chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself now. “So let me get this straight—you think I’m cute and that’s a problem?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “Because it makes me want to shake you.”

Sebastian raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. “Shake me.”

“Yes.”

His smirk widened. “Like, out of frustration or—?”

“Sort of!” you blurted, hands twitching as you tried to explain the feral energy currently buzzing in your veins. “You’re just—you! And sometimes you look so stupidly handsome and do little things like chew on your quill and sit there all Sebastian-y, and it makes me want to—”

“What?” He was grinning now, utterly charmed despite himself.

You struggled for the right words before blurting, “Bite you!”

Sebastian’s expression instantly shattered into disbelief. “I’m sorry—what?!”

“Not hard!” you added quickly, waving your hands as if that somehow made it less unhinged. “Just—like, a little chomp! Affectionate!”

Sebastian gawked at you, floundering for a response. “You—you want to bite me because you love me?”

You swallowed, fighting the heat creeping up your neck, and doubled down. “Yes!"

Sebastian just ran a hand down his face, as if trying to process how this was his life.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.”

“Both.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh, slouching dramatically against the couch, as if this was the greatest burden he had ever borne. You, however, were still buzzing with too much feeling, and now that the topic had been breached, your hands were itching to do something about it.

So you lunged.

Sebastian barely had time to react before your hands were on his face, squishing his cheeks together.

“You’re so cute and it infuriates me,” you growled, mushing his cheeks even more.

Sebastian made a muffled sound of protest, eyes widening in mock betrayal. “Hey!”

“This is your fault,” you declared, now aggressively ruffling his curls.

Sebastian finally wrestled your hands away and pinned them to the couch, breathless as he glared at you with flushed cheeks. “You menace!"

“You deserve this.” You were grinning, utterly delighted by his suffering.

Sebastian laughed, dropping his forehead dramatically against your shoulder. “Why am I in love with someone so insane?”

You beamed. “I don’t know but it’s too late now.”

Sebastian groaned, flopping back onto the couch with the resignation of a man who had lost every battle but still somehow won the war.

He sighed, eyes slipping closed as he let himself relax. You, now thoroughly satisfied, settled beside him, head resting on his shoulder.

And as he absentmindedly reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, Sebastian thought, at least she loves me.

Even if you did want to bite him.

[honeycrispappletree]

ivy // hajime iwaizumi ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

masterlist

part 11: nights

by: frank ocean

This is so fucking stupid.

yn mentally sighs, staring up at kuroo’s shared apartment. In one hand, she holds a burned CD she spent all night making, and in the other, her fist is clenched.

yn has never been one for saying sorry. She’s known for being stubborn-one of the most hard-headed people on campus. How she even managed to get herself to iwaizumi’s front door the other day was a mystery to her. But what wasnt a mystery, was realizing she had to make things right.

Apologizing to oikawa was pretty simple. She told him what happened with iwaizumi, and the completion of what he had been working on since middle school put him in such a victorious high, forgiving her was pretty easy. Bokuto wasnt too bad either, she got him his favorite takeout and some mystery figurines he enjoyed. He accepted as a good enough apology, and they were right back on track.

On the other hand, kuroo wasnt so easy. If there is anybody more stubborn than yn, it’s kuroo. He’s always been that way. And when these two stubborn personalities disagree? It’s a battle neither one of them can win, they’ll never give in to the others side. It never gets resolved unless the resident mediator, akaashi, can force them to figure it out.

But akaashi’s not here right now. It’s just yn, standing infront of his apartment complex with a CD in her hand.

A damn CD.

She rolls her eyes, cringing at herself. she knows kuroo has a premium subscription to every music platform there is. So what the hell was the point?

Taking a deep breath, she sits down on the curb in the parking lot and pulls out a cigarette. As she lights it, she decides to text her last resort to fixing.. this. Whatever the hell you would even call this situation she created.

yn internally panics, shutting off her phone and aggressively tossing into the grass beside her. The phrase, ‘i’m screwed’, plays on repeat in her head. This loop of self pitying is interrupted by the sound of footsteps. kuroo rounds the corner, and his gaze lands on her. He freezes, eyebrow quirking up in that cocky way he always does, but this time it’s not paired with the smug smirk. It’s filled with judgment instead of amusement. He can sense the panic in her presence. kuroo came out expecting to find some tweaked out stranger. And in a way... he kind of did.

“Want some coke?” She sighs, immediately regretting her pathetic attempt at a joke. She tosses her cigarette butt to the ground and grinds it under her heel.

He eyes her, then checks his phone, glancing at the text thread with akaashi. "Did I just get set up?"

“Not on purpose," yn mutters, keeping her eyes on the beat-up cars around them, her posture stiff and avoiding his gaze.

kuroo stares at her for a second, reading the tension in the air. Without saying a word, he shoves his phone into his back pocket with a frustrated sigh and drops down next to her on the curb, joining her in looking at the rusting cars parked in the lot. They both avoided eachothers gaze, pretending like some beat up suburu was the most interesting thing in the world.

“I don’t really know what to say,” yn breaks the silence, her voice quieter than usual. She leans forward, her knees drawn up to her chest. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I miss the band.”

She knows how that sounds, but she means it. It’s her fault, all her fault, and she wishes admitting that would make it all go away, but it won’t. kuroo can’t read her mind, so all he took away was words laced with betrayal and bitter lies.

“Yeah, I miss the band too,” kuroo replies, his tone strained. “But I didn’t get a choice in why I’m missing it. You did.” His jaw clenches, fists tightening as he stares at his knuckles going white.

yn feels the weight of his words hit her, the guilt gnawing at her. She wants to run, leave the whole thing behind. But she can’t. She couldn’t live with herself if she got up and let this simmer for the rest of her life. yn isn’t always right, and she’s not perfect either, as much as she tries to be. Tonight is the night she’d let herself admit it.

“I know I fucked it up. The band. I know,” she says, the words tasting sorry on her tongue. She bites down on her lower lip, struggling to find the right thing to say. “I chose myself over all of us. I thought I was doing the right thing by prioritizing me and my future. But that’s not what it was it all. I see that now. It was selfish.”

Her voice falters slightly as she pushes the words out. She can’t look at him, afraid of seeing the anger and hatred on his face. But she pushes through anyway. “I thought I was pursuing my goals. But I wasn’t. I just thought I knew the perfect way to get what I’ve always wanted. I should’ve known better. Thay wasn’t the way to do it, and that’s not what I fucking wanted, not at all.”

The silence that follows feels like a rejection. She thinks he’ll get up and tell her to go to hell, and that she should have never came here. kuroo doesn’t say anything, just stares at the fading light of the sun as it dissapears lower below the horizon. yn picks at her fingernails, stealing quick glances at him, trying to understand what he’s thinking , but yn isn’t a mind reader either. The weird tension in the air stays foreign.

His voice is low and measured when he speaks up, but there's something fragile behind his eyes. "I can’t say confidently that I wouldn’t have taken that deal if he offered it to me."

yn blinks, surprised. She hadn’t expected that. She’d never thought she’d hear kuroo admit to possibly making a stupid mistake that she made.

He continues, his tone almost thoughtful. “Maybe I would’ve. Maybe I wouldn’t have. No way to know for sure.” He uncurls his fists and looks over at her. “But if I did, and realized how much of a dick Miya is… which I one hundred percent would, I’d probably be wishing for a little mercy from the band. From you.”

yns eyes widen, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Something about her unusual vulnerability must’ve made him feel bad, or maybe it made him realize something about himself.

The parking lot is almost completely dark now, the sky shifting into deep blues as the first stars begin to appear. Shadows stretch across the lot, but somehow, they don’t feel so uneasy to look at.

“Are we good?” yn asks, her voice smaller now, unsure if he’s really forgiven her.

kuroo looks at her for a moment, then l lets himself fall backwards, stretching out on the grass behind them. That damn smirk plays at the edges of his lips. “Yeah. We’re good.”

She looks at him staring up at the sky, a content expression spreading across his face. yn follows, letting herself drop beside him, looking up at the stars. For the first time in what feels like forever, all the tension of these past weeks has vanished.

“I wasn’t begging for your mercy, by the way,” she says, her voice teasing, a small grin pulling at her lips.

kuroo scoffs, amusement in his voice. “Guess I’ll have to go back to making fake accounts, shitting on your every move. But I won’t connect my phone number this time, don’t you worry.”

She laughs softly, feeling lighter. She closes her eyes, letting the cool moonlight brush over her face. It feels soft against her skin, like its silently pulling all her mistakes away.

“Shut up,” she murmurs, the smile still lingering. kuroo chuckles, the sound warm and familiar.

When they both bid their goodbyes later that night, yn completly forgets about the CD. All the care she put into filling it with beach volleyball’s songs, kuroo’s favorite bands (and some of yn’s favorites that kuroo hates), had whisped away from her mind. It sat hidden in the grass for awhile after that night, until a passerby stumbled upon it. Out of curiosity, they took it home and listened to it front to back with some friends. Beach volleyball acquired a few more fans that day.

That damn CD.

more!

in a weird way kuroo and yns shared stubbordness is what makes them good friends

"im not saying saying sorry for shit" "yeah no why would you"

some high schoolers found the cd and are now beach volleyball fans and think they are so cool and underground

"oh my favorite band? yeah you prolly never heard of them..."

inspired them to start a band

when yn told oikawa what happened w iwaizumi he started acting like he won the world cup

he thought he would never feel victory after not making it to nationals but he was wrong

HIS PASSION PROJECT SINCE MIDDLE SCHOOL

"i gotta write a book about this"

bokuto is a sucker for some smiskis

akaashi acts like he doesnt want to mediate but he loves being right and fixing problems, boosts the ego or wtv

taglist: @v1oletfury @solzscribblez @iluvmang @nitasplace @wave2mia @jadeoru @walllflowerrrsss @tespho @piapiaweee3 @illuzminate @kr1nqu @itsdragonius @soulfullystarry @diorzs @honeyfewr @akaashislove @phoenix-eclipses @nnnyxie @vivianne666 @gigiiiiislife @hqandjjklover @ji9starrr @blueballslock @makki0s

a/n: i... updated... ivy? who am i. this definetly has mistakes my bad. I TRIED TO MAKE THIS PLATONIC AS POSSIBLE THEY R FRIENDS. iwaizumi will be returning soon i swear. so will osamu lol (w evil intent). i LOVE FRANK OCEAN. ok thats it luv u ppl in my computer byee

[izzy-b-hands]

Putting on last year's trans rigs stream from Drawfee before i have to get ready to go out with my mum and her bf today (bc i have the worst feeling in my gut he's gonna make that An Thing for me if given the chance today, aka whenever i eventually need the restroom while we're at Mystic)

[13eyond13]

.

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

My mom just sent a message to the family group chat suggesting that my siblings download the 'For the Strength of Youth' magazine on their Gospel Library app and talked about how much the youth magazines helped her testimony growing up and like, cool. Fine. Don't know why the 'sending random spiritual thoughts in the gc' thing started out of nowhere when it hadn't been a thing for a decade but this is just another one of those, and you're ofc allowed to talk about things that are significant in your life.

I don't think sending the 'What I Did When Someone Close to Me Challenged My Faith' article right afterwards was strictly necessary though 🙃

[22degreehalo]

Really... really looking forward to not having to make decisions with my family anymore :')

[gailynovelry]

First day in a while that I’ve gotten genuine writer’s block! The brain is not focusing. Might be that I’ve got only about six chapters of Ember Warrior left, and that does kind of mean that only the chapters I was nervous about and putting off are left. Maybe I will have better luck after sleeping on it though!

[august--and-everything-after]

I fucking hate it here

[readymades2002]

it is very frustrating because my mom does not know What The Deal Is but she certainly Suspects (for good reason. to be fair to her.) and she has Insinuated and she has Implied but she has not asked anything specifically. and its...not unreasonable for her to do this i guess because the last relationship i was in i didn't tell her for a year and a half. because the relationship BEFORE that was my first and it was with a girl and i asked her EXPLICITLY AND URGENTLY to not tell my dad about it because he was a massive homophobe and i knew this and saw this where she did not and she told him anyway and i have not trusted her since though, having few other options, i have continued to confide in her things that i should not confide in her that have then mysteriously made their way through all our shared coworkers back to me. and its.....its so. i don't know what to do about it. she..."stalked" is the wrong word but she followed my blog against my wishes and knowledge as a child and the more i lost trust in her and stopped talking to her the more she pried into my private life. i know my sister had similar experiences with her. and it has created this cycle where i keep trying to keep her out for my own privacy and dignity and safety and she just gets even more desperate and pathetic trying to get in after breaking my trust over and over and OVER again but i live with her and depend on her for far too many things and so it just. is this. awesomesauce

[rubiesintherough]

.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I love to get 2 on

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, Toji x fem!Reader, mmf, polyamory, cursing, smut (fighting over who gets to breed you), dumbification, finger sucking, breeding kink duh, implied size kink, daddy kink, mdni.

An: this is so self indulgent of me to write but idc nothing else is intriguing me besides this thought. this will likely end up being a small series because i have sooooo many ideas about these two nasty fucks.

Having both Toji and Satoru as boyfriends was not for the weak willed because these two men are constantly at each other’s throats when it comes to your attention.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me. ‘m the one givin this pussy what she wants.” Toji’s husky voice growls into your ear, breath fanning across your skin before he grunts.

His hips are slapping against yours — fucking you deep into the mattress while his heavy cock slides in and out of your sloppy hole. Pornographic squelches are coming straight from your pussy, making you cringe, but both of your boyfriends seem to be going feral from it.

Satoru’s pale blue eyes roll as Toji once again steals the show away from him. His palm cups your chin, and he drags your focus right back to his swollen cock. His tip is a pretty shade of pink, and it’s sweltering — leaking beads of precum over and over while he leisurely drags his hand up and down his length .

“Don’t listen to him. Look at Toru.” He coos with a grin, loving how fucked out your face gets when Toji absolutely ruins you. “He’s just a placeholder, riiight~? You’re still going to let me breed you after.”

You’re so pliant for them, nodding your head like a dumb slut. Nothing else in the world is better than when they both take turns breeding you again and again.

“This placeholders ‘bout to make her cum again.” Toji taunts, gripping your hips with bruising strength as he rolls his hips just the way you like. His tip presses kisses of precum so deep inside you. You can barely breathe much less think.

“You better not, princess. Suppose to wait for Toru, remember?” Satoru’s voice grows stern, and his eyes bore into yours in an almost eerie fashion.

“C’mon, doll. Cum for daddy. I can feel you tightening around me. I know ya want to.”

It’s all so much. Watching Satoru fuck into his wrist while Toji’s tip is practically massaging your g-spot. You give Satoru a sorrowful glance before letting out a pleasured cry. Your hands fist at the sheets, and your toes literally curl as juices gush out around the base of Toji’s cock.

“Yeeaah, not bad for a placeholder, right?” Toji’s lips quirk up into a smirk before he presses a kiss to your lips, drinking down your moans just to rub it in Satoru’s face even more.

All it takes is one look from Satoru, and Toji slides out of you with a grin. “I got ‘er warmed up for ya.” Toji laughs as he and Satoru switch positions. You lazily part your thighs for Satoru, still trying to catch your breath from the soul shattering orgasm Toji just gave you.

“Nuh uh. You wanted to be a slut on his cock. ‘m gonna treat you like one.” His hands grab your waist, and he rolls you onto your stomach forcefully.

From the outside, everyone would probably guess that brooding Toji’s the mean one in these scenarios, but they’d be dead wrong.

Satoru, after a life of being spoilt, gets so rude and aggressive when he doesn’t get what he wants. Toji purposefully pushes him to that point — partly so he can watch you get railed deeply into the mattress until tears fall from your eyes.

The heel of Satoru’s palm connects with your back, and he forces your face and shoulders down into the sheets while his other hands guides his cock to your weeping entrance.

You grip at the sheets immediately, letting out a hiss as he buries himself all the way to the hilt in one fluid thrust.

“Fuck.” Satoru groans as if he’s genuinely mad at how wet you are — frustrated that Toji could get you this messy.

Toji brushes your hair away from your face, and his large palm rubs at your cheek gently — a tender reminder to keep your eyes on him while he jerks his cock right in front of your face.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you? I was- ngh.. gonna be nice to you tonight… since hah~ I’m trying to put a baby in you.” Satoru’s hips are forcefully slamming into your backside. He’s not moving fast, but his pace is punishing. “Toji’s already got a kid. It’s my turn.”

Your juices are seeping around his cock, forming a thin white line right around the base that makes Satoru’s cock twitch in delight. His hand slaps at the fat of your ass smack! before he’s pulling on your hips, making you meet him halfway just so he can make his thrusts count.

“Takin’ him so well. Keep it up for, daddy, yeah?” Toji murmurs before pressing a loving kiss to your temple.

Your mouth opens for Toji, and he gives you an affectionate chuckle before placing his thumb against your tongue to soothe that oral fixation you have. He knows that if he fucks your face, Satoru will have even more of a hissy fit and probably fuck you out of commission for a few days.

“Focus on him, doll. Looks like he’s making ya feel real good.” You nod, sucking on Toji’s thumb in between breathless whines and moans.

Satoru’s balls are so heavy, brutally slapping against your puffy clit with each thrust. Thwak! Thwak! Thwak! He’s been saving up for you, adamant that he needs to breed you. He’s the upcoming Gojo clan head after all; it’s natural that those old hags want a baby with his blessed genes.

All it takes is feeling your spongy walls clench around him like a vice, and Satoru’s jerking you up by your arms, forcing your back in to an arch to where the imprint of his dick bulges through your belly.

Both of you are so noisy when you cum, Toji thinks. He watches in slight awe as Satoru pumps you full with his sticky seed. He can tell by the look on Satoru’s face that you’re milking him for all he’s worth too, and it’s so fucking hot.

Toji pushes you back down into the bed. Both men aren’t good with words. They’re good at doing. He arches his hips out before rope after rope of white hot cum spurt from his tip all over your face, marking his territory.

After a moment of cleaning up and giving you small tokens of affection through praises and kisses, the men are right back at each other’s throats.

“Ya know, if you’re not able to keep up, I can breed her cunt, and let ya pass off my kid as yours.” Toji taunts with a smirk.

“Yeah, as if your first kid didn’t look like he came from your ass. Fat chance. Sweets and I are gonna make a pretty blue-eyed baby with white hair.” Satoru hums as he affectionately ruffles your hair. “Isn’t that right, pretty~?”

[rafesangelita]

♡ in an attempt to get sheep!reader to be more vocal about what she wants in bed, rafe only gives her what she’s able to say..

warnings: heavyyy teasing, corruption kink (?), fingering, lots of dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, light fluff

a/n: i see your req’s for more sheep!reader works, don’t worry i’ll be working on them soon! <3

wc: 1.8k

“come on, ‘pretty, all you have to do is use your words..” rafe’s eyes traveled down your naked form, his fingers ghosting over the soft flesh of your thighs. this was absolute torture. “rafe, i can’t!” you cried, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. your boyfriend took so much pleasure in knowing that you were far too shy to ask for what you wanted, a smug grin gracing his lips as heavy tears threatened to spill from your eyes. you looked away from him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “i won’t say it..” you mumbled, gasping softly when rafe dipped a finger between your glossy folds.

“won’t say what?” he taunted, barely stroking your clit before pulling his hand away. you let out a shaky breath, meeting his eyes for the first time during this whole ordeal. “please.” you whimpered pathetically, hoping, begging, rafe will give into your pleas. rafe shook his head, giving your side a little pinch. “i don’t know what you’re asking for.” he shrugged, his cock aching against his briefs. you drew your eyebrows together, your heart beating in your ears as you considered your next words. “i want you to touch me..” you whispered, your chest rising and falling as rafe offered you a teasing smile.

“touch you where? here?” he placed a hand on your knee, “here?” your arm was next, “..or here?” you whined in frustration when you felt his palm rest on your tummy. rafe was purposely making this hard for you, and he was enjoying every second of it. “no!” you spread your thighs in hopes to draw his attention elsewhere. sure enough, rafe looked down, his jaw ticking at the sight of your puffy folds. “fuck.” he cursed under his breath. “i need you down there..” you trailed a foot down his torso, stopping right below his v-line. rafe knew you what you trying to do.

“i don’t know where ‘down there’ is.. i think you have to explain it to me, doll.” rafe wasn’t going to let up. you started thinking of ways to word yourself, the implications of what you had to say only made you more embarrassed. ‘vagina’ felt too proper to use in this situation, ‘pussy’ was too lewd for your liking, and ‘cunt’ sounded so aggressive, you didn’t know what to make of it. swallowing thickly, you knew rafe wanted to hear you say the second option more than anything. in your mind, you thought if you said the dirtiest thing, he would have to give you what you were crying for.. right?

“i want you to touch my—” rafe leaned forward. no fucking way you’d say it. “m-my pussy?” it was comical, seeing the way you avoided his heated gaze. rafe had never heard a curse word fall from your lips, let alone that word specifically. “was that so hard?” rafe laughed, sitting between your thighs as he spread you open, his cock twitching at the sight of your glistening succulence dripping down your cunt. with the pad of his thumb, rafe began circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, the long awaited sensation making your hips roll forward. “don’t move.” he warned, keeping a hand on your hip.

you shuddered, settling into your soft sheets as rafe then prodded a finger at your entrance. he teased your slit, slipping just the tip of his digit inside before gathering your slick and gliding the wetness up to your clit. “feeling empty, huh?” rafe saw you pathetically clench around nothing, your eyebrows knitting together in desperation. “y-yes, please! ‘want your fingers now.” rafe was pleasantly surprised, the second time around seemed to be more easier than the first time you requested something. “look at you, you’re doing great, baby.” your boyfriend praised you, deciding to reward you with two fingers instead of one.

your breath got caught in your throat when you felt the stretch of two digits inside your cunt, your mouth falling open as you hiccuped at the feeling of rafe’s long, thick fingers curling inside of you. still using his thumb to rub your clit, you cried out when you felt him press on that gummy spot that made you see stars. “o-oh!” you whimpered, your thighs shutting around rafe’s hand. forcing your thighs open, rafe leaned his weight on one of your legs, and used his free hand to pin down the other one, forcing you to take what he gave you. “you look so pretty when you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

rafe’s words sounded muffled, your heart beating in your ears when you felt the familiar heat start to simmer in your tummy. your hand rested on top of rafe’s, his fingers interlacing with yours. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” he leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss, “gonna make you cum, is that what you want?” you nodded helplessly, in which rafe tsked. “say it. say that’s what you want.” he urged. with the quietest tone you could muster, you spoke. “please make me cum..” rafe would’ve appreciated you saying it a little bit louder, but he figured he was lucky if he got you to say it at all.

picking up his speed on your clit, he watched with dark eyes as your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your lips swollen from rafe nipping at them. the wet sounds of your cunt made your cheeks heat, your chest caving in as you teetered the edge of pure euphoria. your hand shot up to grip rafe’s arm, your nails digging into his skin as your thighs trembled from your high washing over you. rafe always stared at you in awe whenever he pushed you over the edge, the little sounds leaving your lips never failed to drive him crazy while your velvety walls squeezed around his digits.

“nghh— rafe!” you squeaked, a string of sobs tumbling from your throat as he continued to bring you down from your high. rafe littered your neck and chest with wet kisses, your fingers running across his scalp. you whimpered when rafe pulled away, your eyes trailing down his toned stomach as he slid off his briefs. wrapping a hand around your ankle, you yelped when he yanked you towards the edge of the bed, running his cock over your still fluttering cunt. “tell me you want me to fuck you,” he groaned when he felt your slick coat his length, “tell me you want my cock inside you.”

you were hysterical at this point, bending at his will as you did what he asked. “please fuck me, ray. ‘want y-your cock inside me!” you repeated, your back arching off of the sheets when he slammed into you without warning. “fuck, baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” rafe leaned down, caging you between his arms, “hearing you talk like that, s’driving me fuckin’ crazy.” you wrapped your legs around his waist, his biceps on either sides of your head. he filled you to the hilt in this position, bottoming out as his pubic bone grazed your clit with every thrust.

your eyes fluttered shut as you held him close to you, his breath fanning against your cheek as he whispered the filthiest obscenities in your ear. nothing else existed when you two were like this. it was like the world stopped spinning whenever he felt you taking him so good. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he squished your cheeks together with one hand, your eyebrows knitting together as you gazed up at him, “always so pliant with me, ‘makes me wanna see what other fucked up shit i could make you do.” he chuckled, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

rafe could see the slight fear in your eyes, a gentle ‘shhh’ leaving his lips as an attempt to reassure you. “don’t worry, we’ll save that for another day.” he pecked your cheek, his hips snapping into you faster than before. you held onto his broad shoulders, the sound of his skin smacking against yours made you want to curl in on yourself, the lewd echo of it bouncing off of the walls. soon your legs were feeling like jelly and you couldn’t keep them locked around rafe’s build. sensing your struggle, he pinned the back of your knees against your chest, getting a full, clear view of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.

“ah, fuckkk,” rafe drawled out, absolutely hypnotized at the sight. he glided with ease, your folds hugging him snugly. the grip you had on his cock was enough to make his muscles constrict with the need to fill you up, your pretty clit glistening with his precum. “m’gonna need to film this next time, you’re fuckin’ unreal.” he choked back a groan when you somehow managed to clamp around him even tighter. “h-holy shit,” rafe’s hips stuttered, his face scrunching when he began twitching, your second orgasm of the night hitting you with more force than the first one.

as if on cue, rafe peaked when you gripped the knitted blanket at your side, both of you moaning so loud you were sure ms. celia, the sweet old lady next door, could hear you two. rafe didn’t stop fucking into you until every last drop of his cum was lost in the heaven that was your cunt, his eyes rolling back when he stayed nestled inside of you. rafe helped your legs back down, your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. swallowing thickly, rafe sighed as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hairline. “my god..” he looked at you incredulously.

how you had that innocent sparkle in your eyes right after doing what you did was beyond him. “that wasn’t so bad..” you whispered, running a finger down the underside of rafe’s jaw. “no, not at all. you did amazing.” he was still inside you when he leaned all his weight on you. you always felt so safe and secure every time rafe did this. you reveled in the feeling of his heart beating against your own, your eyelids heavy as sleep threatened to come over you. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe mumbled. you giggled, a lazy smile gracing your features.

as much as you would’ve loved that, a hot shower was far more needed. after ten minutes of convincing rafe you two should get cleaned up for bed, and after round two ensued under the shower head, you and your boyfriend had finally cuddled up under the sheets, his warm skin mingling with yours. once you two exchanged ‘i love you’s’, you were out like a light. the next morning you had went out and checked the mail, spotting ms. celia rocking on her chair with her morning coffee in her hand. “good morning!” you waved, in which she smiled. “how did you sleep, dear?”

“just fine! i had a pretty long night..” butterflies fluttered in your tummy at the memory. “oh, i bet! it sure sounded like it.”

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle at your sharp words. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, so I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[solelifauna]

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 1)

TW: Mentions/allusions to cannibalism, death, and violence.

Three years had passed since that fateful day and your life had only gotten more miserable. Whatever hopes you had for being a part of a family were thwarted as soon as you stepped foot in the household. Bruce doesn't care about you, Dick was straight up mean, Jason (as the pack protector) was aggressive, Tim found you annoying, and Damien simply loathed your existence and would join Dick with his cruelty.

Both Stephanie and Barbara were civil with you, but neither really cared about what you did. Cassandra was nice, sometimes signing to you and giving you scented clothing, but she still didn't really go out of her way to engage with you. The only person who you felt truly cared about you was Alfred.

The first two years you tried your hardest to fit in and get the others to like you. You did whatever they wanted, made sure to learn their interests so you could talk to them, never complained, and made sure to respect the pack's boundaries.

You hoped that eventually, you’d all move past this hurdle and soon you would get along and be allowed in the pack den and other pack activities. Unfortunately, you realized that you would never be considered part of the family or the pack. Which as heartbreaking as it was, was the least of your worries.

You see, there was an ancient custom in werewolf culture concerning new pack members and pack initiation. When a new werewolf is introduced to a pack and their territory, the new werewolf has a certain amount of time to be accepted into the pack; if they’re not, well, they're killed and eaten. 

Yeah… quite terrifying and barbaric if you think about it, but mostly only the old lineages still continue this practice. Which is why you’re absolutely fucked. See, typically when children come to a pack they get accepted immediately, pups were (usually) considered precious.

In your case, being a half-blood severely reduced your chances and well, you guessed the Wayne family just didn't like you. Which sucks because you only have until your 18th birthday to get them to accept you, and considering your 16th birthday was coming up, your time was coming to a close. 

Or, you could always just run away. Hey! It was an option, one that you weren't sure the Bats would even let happen. Still it was worth a try. Which leads to your current situation in Bruce's office; you were trying to cut your losses a little early.

~~~~~~

“Look, I just feel as though this is the best course of action for your pack’s and my own safety.” Came your exasperated and desperate voice.

“Safety?” Bruce questions, causally flipping through some Wayne Industries documents, as if he doesn't know exactly what you're talking about.

“Considering Damian’s tried to kill me five times, two of his attempts almost being successful, and Jason's pit aggression that has him ready to rip my throat out, you can see why someone would feel unsafe.” You state, voice raising slightly in pitch.

He hummed noncommittally, his eyes still focusing on whatever paperwork he was going over.

“I'll think about it.” He replies, still disinterested.

“There’s nothing to think about! I should be allowed to leave if I want to, and if anything I'll finally be out of your pack's way.” You say, finally letting your frustration show through.

Why couldn't he just let you leave? Did he seriously want to keep you here just to kill– sorry, eat you in another two years?

“Excuse me?” He finally looks up from his work, his blue eyes meeting yours. He was unimpressed, you could tell that much at least, coupled with a dark look of simmering anger.

Okay, so maybe you should tone it down a notch.

“Come on, I'm not an idiot. I know me being here is simply a public formality, good fluff bits for the press y'know. But I'm not part of your family, and I'm certainly not part of your pack. You and the others have made that very clear. So please, allow me to do us both a favor and get out of your way.” You add.

“Where would you go?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

“Where would you go?” Bruce repeats again.

“That–that is honestly none of your concern.”

“None of my concern? Aren't I entitled to know where my kid is?”

“No, you’re not. Sure you're biologically considered my father, but we all know I'm not really considered your kid.”

“Is that what you think?” He questions.

“Am I supposed to think any differently?”

“You carry the Wayne surname do you not?”

“I do.”

“Then you belong to the Waynes. To me. Which means that I decide what happens to you.”

There was the familiar darkness that you saw pooling in Bruce’s eyes, the type that left the Joker a tortured mess, the type that disemboweled Ra’s Al Ghul, the type of darkness that reminded you that Batman doesn’t kill. Oh no, he maims and tortures instead.

You unconsciously take a careful step back. 

Bruce’s stare felt like ice, and his words hung in the air, thick and heavy with an authority that was absolute. You wanted to argue, to say something, but every instinct in your body screamed for caution. There was a darkness in his gaze that you had seen glimpses of before, but never directed at you, and now it was there, unblinking, cutting through any hope you’d harbored for mercy or understanding.

Your heart hammered, yet you forced yourself to stand straighter, swallowing down the instinctive fear. 

“With all due respect,” you began, your voice smaller than you intended but steady, “staying here for another two years just for you all to—to follow through with that—custom, doesn’t seem fair.”

Bruce’s expression didn’t soften, but his posture shifted slightly, his gaze piercing through you like he could see every thought you tried to hide. 

“Belonging is earned. It isn’t granted because of blood,” he stated coldly. “If you truly wish to belong somewhere, you work for it.”

“I’ve tried,” you said, voice thick with frustration. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve followed your rules, I tried with everyone, and stayed out of everyone’s way. But nothing I do is good enough.”

“You assume that acceptance is given on your terms,” he replied, voice as controlled as ever. “Pack structure doesn’t bend to anyone’s whims. Least of all a half-blood who hasn’t proven their loyalty.”

The words stung, tearing open a wound that you thought had scarred over. You clenched your fists, feeling the sharp ache of your own nails digging into your palms. “And what exactly does proving myself look like here? Surviving Damian’s attacks? Letting Jason rip me apart every chance he gets?”

“Watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low, cutting through any retort you’d planned.

You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to take another step back from his desk. Challenging him wouldn’t help. He’d already decided where you stood, and nothing you said would change that. Maybe it was better to save your energy, conserve your strength for the day you’d finally slip away.

“Understood,” you said, swallowing the bitterness in your throat. “If that’s how it is, then I’ll stay out of everyone’s way.”

 But you’d still leave when the time comes.

Bruce’s gaze hardened, like he knew what you were thinking. “Your place is here until I decide otherwise,” he said, a finality in his tone that told you any further argument would only worsen things.

He dismissed you with a look, returning to his papers as if the conversation were over, as if you were no longer there. Every step you took out of the office felt heavier, like the manor itself was holding you down, binding you to this place that was never truly a home.

As you closed the door behind you, the cold emptiness of the hallway wrapped around you, and you knew then—you were on your own. If you were to survive this, it would be on your own terms.

It's like clockwork when Alfred calls you down for dinner. The same time, the same routine.

You show  up to dinner, hands still shaking and mind still reeling from your disturbingly cryptic conversation with Bruce. But, never mind that you’d just eat quietly and leave like you always do. You moved to your normal seat only to find that all the chairs near the end of the table had disappeared. What the actual fuck. Was this some type of powerplay? Something to imply that you didn’t even have a seat at their table anymore? 

You mean, you wouldn't mind eating in the safety and comfort of your own room. With an exasperated sigh, which had a couple of heads turn their attention to you, you grabbed an empty plate and started loading it up with food. You were about to head back to your room when you heard an outraged growl from behind you.

The kind of growl that had you tensing, ready to submit and roll onto your back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jason growled out from behind you.

You freeze.

“To my room?” You responded meekly, curling in on yourself as much as you could.

“And pray tell, why do you think that’d be acceptable?”

“Uh–um, ‘cause my seats’ gone?”

Jason only smirked, the feral kind that almost always promised pain to his enemies.

“Oh, but your chair isn't gone, it's right here.” Jason says pointing to a chair right near the head of the table.

You blanked. That's not right. Only pack was allowed that close to the head of the table, where Bruce sat, where the pack leader sat.

“B-But, I can’t–”

“Did that sound like a suggestion?”

You shook your head no, swallowing down a whimper that almost escaped your lungs.

“Then sit your ass down,” Jason growled.

He didn't have to tell you twice.

Immediately you shakily sat down in your new seat, on the left side of Bruce’s seat at the head of the table with Jason sitting at your left shoulder and Dick across from you. Not good, not good at all. You could feel the acidic, green gaze of Jason burning into the side of your face whilst Dick languidly sipped his wine, a sickeningly sweet smile (with way too many teeth to be considered anything but malicious), plastered on his face as he stared at the new seating chart. You let out a shaky breath, trying to get your heart rate back to normal; you were so gonna die tonight.

Thankfully, Bruce arrived and sat himself in his seat at the head of the table; right next to you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on getting air in your lungs and slowing your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Bruce shot a knowing stare at the rest of the table. As much as you tried to conceal it, they could all hear your rapidly fluttering heartbeat and your poorly hidden breathing. Tim and Jason both watched you amused; you looked so darn pathetic, sitting there trembling like a leaf. 

You glanced down at your plate, picking at the food without really tasting it, hoping that staying silent would help you melt into the background.

Bruce, however, remained still and silent, his presence looming over you, radiating the authority that seemed to keep everyone else in check. But even that felt like a facade; the way his gaze lingered on you for a split second too long told you he was watching closely, assessing.

You forced yourself to take a bite, trying to steady your hands enough to appear somewhat composed. But the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to echo in your ears, loud and unrelenting, as if amplifying the anxiety that twisted in your gut. They could hear it too; you knew that much from the way Jason’s smirk deepened, from the way Tim’s lips twitched with barely-contained laughter.

As the dinner dragged on, every clink of a fork, every quiet murmur, felt like it was directed at you. The food turned to ash in your mouth, each bite only reminding you of the eyes trained on you, dissecting you with every chew and every breath.

The rest of the dinner passed in strained silence, every second an endurance test as you forced yourself to stay seated, to keep your head down. When Bruce finally pushed his chair back and dismissed everyone, the wave of relief was almost enough to make you lightheaded. Quick as a whip, you practically ran up the stairs towards the safety and solace of your room.

When you make it, the locks on your door are immediately fastened (not that it would do much if anyone wanted to actually force their way in). You exhale in relief as you try to collect your thoughts. Fuck, everything was going to shit; the worst part being you had school tomorrow (which thankfully you did not go to Gotham Prep; you'd kill yourself if you did). You groaned at the thought, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes to relieve the ache shooting through them.

Looks like another night of shitty sleep.

Taglist!!: @lostsomewhereinthegarden, @the-rouge-robin, @confused-they

[jxwl4k]

The Only Exception

Plot: Bakugou hates everyone but YN, the only one who softens his tough exterior.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t known for his friendliness. In fact, the opposite was true. He was brash, loud, and always seemed to have a scowl on his face. Most people avoided him, and that was exactly how he liked it. Except for one person: YN.

No one could understand how someone like YN, always smiling and filled with sunshine, could handle someone as explosive as Bakugou. It didn’t make sense. Bakugou seemed to hate everyone, but for some reason, when it came to YN, his attitude completely shifted.

The moment YN entered the common room, his eyes softened. She bounced in, her usual cheerful self, waving to everyone in the room.

“Hey, guys!” she called out, her smile lighting up the space. Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima waved back, used to her bright personality.

Mina leaned in and whispered to Kirishima, “Watch. He’s gonna melt the second she talks to him.”

Sure enough, YN walked over to Bakugou, who was slouched on the couch, arms crossed and glaring at the TV. His scowl softened just slightly as she approached.

“Hey, Katsuki,” she said softly, sitting down beside him.

“Tch, what do you want?” he grumbled, but there was no bite to his words. In fact, he shifted slightly, making more room for her to sit closer.

She grinned. “Just wanted to see what you were up to.”

He huffed, his eyes still glued to the screen. “I’m watching a stupid show ‘cause these extras can’t pick a decent channel.”

“Hey!” Kaminari called out from across the room, clearly offended. “This show is awesome!”

Bakugou ignored him, his focus still on YN. She just laughed and leaned into his side. To everyone else, Bakugou was intimidating and aggressive. But with YN, it was like he was a completely different person.

“Wanna get some fresh air?” she asked, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him.

He glanced at her for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever. I was getting sick of sitting around with these idiots anyway.”

As they stood up, the rest of the group exchanged knowing looks. Bakugou had always been protective of YN, and while he seemed to hate everyone else, it was clear to everyone that he was softer when she was around.

Once they were outside, YN breathed in deeply, enjoying the cool air. Bakugou walked beside her, his hands shoved into his pockets. His usual tense expression had eased, and he glanced at her every so often as if making sure she was okay.

“You’re the only one who gets away with making me do stupid stuff like this,” he muttered under his breath.

YN smiled, nudging him playfully. “That’s because you secretly love it.”

He scoffed but didn’t deny it. She had a way of breaking down the walls he built around himself, and he didn’t mind it when it was her.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while until YN suddenly stopped. “Katsuki?”

“Hm?” He turned to face her, raising an eyebrow.

“Why are you so different with me?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. His usual bravado faltered, and he shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…kinder. I mean, not to everyone, but with me, you don’t act the same.”

Bakugou looked away, his jaw tightening as if struggling to find the right words. Finally, he let out a sigh. “Because you’re different.”

She blinked, surprised by his answer. “Different how?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly frustrated with himself. “You’re not annoying like the rest of them,” he muttered. “You don’t piss me off. I don’t feel like I have to be on guard with you.”

YN smiled softly, stepping closer to him. “So, you don’t hate me?”

He rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched slightly, like he was holding back a smile. “No, idiot. You’re the only one I don’t hate.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and before she could stop herself, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Bakugou stiffened for a moment, not used to physical affection like this, but then he relaxed, his arms hesitantly wrapping around her.

“Tch, you’re such a pain,” he mumbled, though his hold on her tightened ever so slightly.

YN just grinned into his chest. “You love it.”

And though he would never admit it out loud, she knew he did.