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ageingfangirl2 · 2 days ago

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Ran's Little Waitress (Tokyo Revengers - Bonten)

RAN HAITANI X FEMALE READER

CHAPTER TWELVE: RAN'S LITTLE WAITRESS *FINAL CHAPTER*

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN

Warehouse 3 – Outskirts of Tokyo

The warehouse loomed grey and cold, a stark contrast to the morning sun trying to peek through the smog. Inside, the space pulsed with tension. The ex sat tied to a reinforced chair in the centre of the room, bruised and bloodied. His cockiness had long since drained from his face, leaving behind sweat and fear.

Mikey stood motionless near the back wall, arms crossed, the shadow from a single dangling bulb casting harsh angles over his features. Koko was perched on a rusted crate, tablet in hand, calmly scrolling through files. Rindou leaned against a pillar, arms crossed but jaw tight, his eyes flicking between the man in the chair and his brother, who had just walked in.

Sanzu was pacing behind the man like a predator waiting to be unleashed. Every so often, he'd chuckle darkly under his breath, just to rattle the guy.

‘Finally,’ Sanzu muttered when Ran stepped inside, ‘Took you long enough.’

Ran didn’t respond, eyes narrowing the moment they landed on the ex. Kakucho, who had been silent and watching from the shadows, stepped forward with a file folder in hand. He passed it to Ran without a word.

Takeomi stood by one of the crates, smoking quietly. The way he exhaled and looked at the ex was like someone sizing up a dead man walking.

Mochi was the one guarding the exit, thick arms crossed, his presence alone enough to keep anyone from getting ideas.

Ran flipped through the folder. Photos. Bank records. Messages. Names.

Koko spoke, calm and cold, ‘It wasn’t just her. Three others. All with eerily similar patterns. Isolation, gaslighting, and taking over finances. With her, he went a step further—talked her grandparents into cutting her off. Said she was living in sin. That she’d run off with a criminal.’

Ran’s grip on the folder tightened.

Rindou swore quietly, ‘Sick freak.’

‘He kept her documents locked away,’ Kakucho added, his voice low. ‘She had to break into his safe to get them back before running. That’s why she made the go-bag. Smart girl.’

‘She would’ve had to be,’ Takeomi muttered, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it, ‘A guy like this doesn’t leave room for mistakes.’

‘She was the only one who escaped,’ Koko continued, ‘The others? He ruined them in quieter ways. One ended up in a psych ward. Another went back to him. The third disappeared. No one’s heard from her in six months.’

The ex whimpered in his chair, ‘I didn’t— I didn’t mean—’

‘Shut up,’ Mikey said flatly.

Mochi cracked his neck, ‘So, what are we thinking? Dump his body in the bay? Or break every bone and make him disappear?’

Ran was silent, rage bubbling under his calm exterior. He looked at the man—this pathetic, trembling piece of garbage—and all he could see were your terrified eyes behind the peephole. The knife was shaking in your hand. Her whisper: ‘He said my grandparents gave me to him.’

Takeomi stepped forward, ‘Mikey?’

The head of Bonten didn’t blink. ‘She’s protected. He made her bleed. You all know what that means.’

No one had to be told twice.

Ran leaned in close to the ex, voice quiet and razor sharp, ‘You could’ve lived a boring life. Could’ve moved on, stayed invisible. But you came to my club. You touched my girl.’

The man opened his mouth to speak, but Sanzu was already pulling on his gloves.

Ran stepped back, gaze hard, ‘You don’t get to talk anymore.’

He turned to leave, brushing past Kakucho and Rindou.

Kakucho’s voice stopped him, ‘You good?’

Ran glanced over his shoulder, nodding once, ‘Better now.’

As he disappeared out the warehouse door, Mikey gave a small nod, the silent command. Screams echoed out only seconds later.

Y/N’s Apartment

Ran knocked softly, and the door opened within seconds. You must’ve been waiting by it. Your face lit up the moment you saw him. No fear. No tension. Just a warm, relieved smile that made the hours of rage and blood feel worth it.

‘You okay?’ you ask, eyes scanning his face like you were searching for cracks he didn’t have.

‘I am now,’ Ran said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

The apartment smelled faintly of something sweet—maybe citrus and vanilla. Comforting. Familiar. Hers. The moment the door latched, you turn and walk backwards toward the couch, reaching out for him. Ran let you pull him by the hand, dropping his jacket on the floor without care.

You push him gently down onto the couch and then, with a little glint in your eyes, climb onto his lap and straddle him. Your fingers settled on his chest, teasing at the buttons of his shirt.

Ran smirked, his hands naturally sliding up your thighs to rest at your hips, ‘This how you treat all your bosses?’

You give a soft laugh, brushing your nose against his, ‘HR is going to have a field day with this.’

Ran chuckled lowly, his fingers flexing a little, ‘Good thing Bonten doesn’t have an HR department.’

You lean in, forehead resting against his as your voice drops to a whisper, ‘I missed you.’

‘I wasn’t gone that long.’

‘You were gone long enough,’ you say, letting your forehead slide against his before you pressed a kiss to his lips—slow, deep, grateful.

He kissed you back, a little firmer this time, letting his hand slide up your back, pulling you in. You tasted like cinnamon and cookies, and he couldn’t get enough.

When they broke apart, you smiled against his mouth, ‘So… is it over?’

Ran didn’t answer right away, just tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, eyes holding yours with a rare seriousness, ‘He’s never going to hurt anyone again.’

You didn’t ask how. You didn’t want to know. Instead, you kissed him again—gentler this time.

‘Good,’ you whisper, ‘Because I’m not running anymore.’

Ran's grip on you tightened slightly, his voice low and promising, ‘You won’t have to.’

The mood between them was light but intimate, the lingering tension from earlier replaced with a warmth that felt just as powerful. You hadn’t let go of Ran’s hand since they sat down on the couch, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his skin. They sat close, enjoying the peaceful silence that filled the room.

Ran, still gazing at you with that knowing look, leaned back against the cushions and raised an eyebrow, ‘So, when did you think I was hot stuff?’

You snort, amused by the question, ‘Hot stuff, huh? You sure do like the sound of that.’

Ran smirked, crossing his arms, ‘Just wondering when I became more than just the boss you had to impress.’

You shrug, leaning in closer, and teased, ‘Well, I did think Rindou was hotter when I first started at the club. He had that laid-back charm going for him. You know, the whole ‘I’m cool, I’m not trying too hard’ vibe.’

Ran narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into a playful grin, ‘You thought Rindou was hotter?’

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment, ‘Well, yeah! Who wouldn’t? But,’ you continue, lifting your head to meet his gaze, ‘there’s something about you. Your intensity...the way you always look like you’re in control of everything around you. I find it...kind of attractive.’

Ran raised an eyebrow, looking a little pleased with your response, ‘Intense, huh? You think that's what does it for you?’

You nod, a grin tugging at your lips, ‘Yeah. That, and your whole 'don’t mess with me' attitude. It's definitely...appealing.’

Ran chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple, ‘I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.’

You smile and slide your hands up his chest, gently pushing him back against the couch so you could straddle him again, this time sitting more comfortably as they continued to talk, ‘You’re more than just intense, though. You’re real, you know? A lot of people in your position are fake, putting up a front to make everyone think they’re untouchable. But you…’ You pause, tapping your finger against his chest, ‘You’re genuine. And that’s what makes you even more attractive.’

Ran’s smirk softened, and he placed his hands on your hips, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, ‘Well, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?’

You grin, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower and with more depth, your hands tangling in his hair, ‘Only for you,’ you whisper against his lips.

They both lingered for a while, the moment feeling comfortable and unhurried. There was no rush. No pressure.

Eventually, Ran pulled back slightly, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, ‘I have to admit, I’m curious now. What about Koko? I’ve heard he’s got his own charm.’

You laugh softly, shaking your head, ‘Koko? Sure, he’s a charmer. But no one has that edge like you do, Ran.’

Ran chuckled and kissed you again, but this time it was slower, softer, as if he had all the time in the world to savour the moment. You melted into him, feeling his warmth, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely safe.

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grabby-smitten · 4 months ago

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I understand how uncomfortable part of the fandom feels with the new trailer. It’s the same feeling I get when I see domestic life w kids posts.

#omi.rambles #but yk what I don’t do? I don’t go harassing other people #even when those posts aren’t tagged appropriately #yes appropriately #anything can trigger anyone #but also ppl that have triggers should recognize them and avoid #I just scroll pass and continue with my life #do breathing exercises if I read something that upsets me. control my own mind.#or saw something+#I don’t even bother sending asks with *could you tag X or Y?*#BECAUSE ITS NOT SOMETHING THATS REQUIRED OR OBLIGATORY #tw rant #that’s being emotionally responsible.#also part of having triggers is being aware of them and being prepared. bc a triggered person is somehow dangerous in itself.#like that’s basic therapy stuff (me thinks).#you know. you prepare. you learn to live like this.#I am actively living with triggers. I can’t ask the bus driver to hold a sign with their trigger warnings

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fushitoru · 4 months ago

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ranking types of hugs he'd be comfortable with another guy giving his gf! a nanami kento fic / drabble

cw: nanami kento x reader, a little suggestive maybe, established relationship, fluff, nanami is a green flag but he's just a man, light jealousy / posessiveness, crack, based off this (instagram link). gojo ver here

general masterlist

"Ranking types of hugs I'd be comfortable with another guy giving my girlfriend."

Kento’s not the type to aimlessly scroll on his phone --- he prefers to be in the present, not deplete “his reserves of dopamine” too quickly, but right now he’s bored. You’ve yet to come from work---you’d texted him you were running late, buying some groceries---so Kento’s laid on the couch looking at his phone. Even though he hates using social media and the rabbit holes that result from said use, he answers your reels and TikToks religiously. After all, he values everything you have to say, even though they are a bit silly.

But just before he could respond to the baby fever videos you sent him----he does have to admit, it’s a bit cute---his screen auto scrolls onto the next piece of 30-second content, and with that, he’s hooked, observing the slots of rankings the filter auto generates for the guy on his screen.

For a bit, he multitasks on looking at the video and reading the comments, then frowns at how possessive they seem.

catcher hug is 1000 bodies 😭😭

No one is hugging my girl

PUT EVERYTHING AT 11 CUH

a/n lmaoo these are real comments on the link above honestly i love when men are pathetic

Surely, it can’t be that bad … right?

Kento prides himself on being an emotionally mature and secure man. It’s not to say he doesn’t have his own flaws, but while it seems the rest of his gender has fallen to the gym bro gurus and alpha male podcast bros, he’s involved himself in constant communication with you and makes sure to educate himself.

And yet. He doesn’t know he’s going to almost be on the brink of tears as he opens the filter to try it out by himself.

The filter shuffles, presenting the first option: A back hug.

Kento exhales sharply through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly. He doesn’t immediately react, but there’s a flicker of something in his gaze. He ranks it a nine.

Then, the next: A slow dance hug.

His jaw tightens. The thought of you in someone else’s arms, swaying under dim lights, your cheek resting against another man’s chest—it’s enough to make something unpleasant curl in his stomach. Ten.

The filter shuffles again. One-armed hug. He sighs through his nose, rubbing his temple. Three. Acceptable. Barely.

e waits, trying to keep his thoughts level, but when the next option rolls in, his grip on his phone tightens. A slow catcher hug.

His face is blank. He blinks once. Twice.

Then, a deep, audible sigh fills the room as he drags a hand down his face, thumb and forefinger pressing against the bridge of his nose.

The image is unwelcome, vivid—someone else catching you, your legs wrapping around their waist, the ease, the familiarity.

His phone clatters onto his chest, and he stares at the ceiling. The muscles in his jaw are taut, his lips pressed in a firm line. A moment passes. Then another.

And that’s how you find him—lying on the couch, stiff as a board, staring blankly upwards like he’s contemplating the meaning of life itself.

“Sweetheart?” you call, stepping closer. You set down your groceries, taking in his unusually tense form. He doesn’t immediately acknowledge you, just continues his thousand-yard stare.

“What’s wrong?” you press, now more concerned. “Are you feeling sick?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, still staring at the ceiling. Then, in a voice that’s a little too measured, he finally speaks.

“If another man so much as thinks about catching you in his arms, I’ll break both of them.”

You freeze. Blink.

“… What?”

Finally, he turns his head to look at you, eyes dark and serious, but there’s something almost resigned in his expression—like he knows he’s being ridiculous but can’t bring himself to care. You’re surprised at the turn of events to---it’s unlike him to be so…possessive and droopy. It’s actually really cute---he reminds you uncharacteristically of a wet, droopy dog.

“I don’t like that filter.” His voice is calm, but his fingers twitch slightly where they rest on his stomach. “I don’t like thinking about other men touching you.”

It’s so unlike him—so openly possessive—that you’re momentarily stunned into silence. Then, amusement bubbles up in your chest.

“Did you just get jealous over a TikTok filter?” you tease, stepping closer.

He exhales, slow and long, closing his eyes briefly before muttering, “I was curious. I regret it.”

You bite back a smile, reaching down to brush your fingers against his jaw. He leans into the touch, almost instinctively, before sighing again.

“You’re the only one I want to touch me, Kento.” you reassure, and his lips finally quirk at the edges—barely, but it’s there.

“I know,” he says, voice softer now. “But if I ever see a man standing with his arms open around you…” He exhales one final time, shaking his head before murmuring, “… I can fight.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before moving to put away the groceries, leaving him lying there, still brooding.

As you walk away, you hear him mutter under his breath, just loud enough to catch:

“Slow catcher hug… ridiculous.”

general masterlist

a/n first time writing for nanami kinda nervous :') i have def areas to improve upon but for the meantime pls accept this <3 thank you for the req cutie !! @girlyuuta choso ver is going to come too :3

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kunasthiast · 1 month ago

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sunshine

“you ever think about how lucky you are to have me?”

you didn’t even look up from your phone as you continued scrolling, sprawled out like a lazy cat on the living room rug (it’s comfy, okay?), half under a throw blanket.

“literally never,” you replied.

“liar,” your husband sukuna said from the couch, not missing a beat. “you’re lying and the universe knows it.”

he was half-focused on some work file on his tablet. he had his reading glasses low on his nose (which should’ve been illegal) and was wearing one of those loose black tees that hung just right on his arms. it’s like his arms were sculpted for violence and thirst traps. it was offensive, really. all of it.

a few minute passed by and you were still just scrolling on your phone.

“you been quiet for a whole five minutes, brat. you dying or scheming?” he asked, not even glancing up.

“maybe both,” you said lazily.

that got his attention. he finally glanced at you over the rim of his glasses, flashing that signature i-know-you-want-me smirk. “if you die, i’ll sue god.”

you snorted. “you think god wants beef with you?”

“babe,” he leaned back, stretching — showing just enough abs to ruin your life, “god’s scared of me.”

a beat passed.

then you peeked over the your phone and said casually with a grin, “baby, serious question.”

“oh boy,” he muttered, lowering the tablet a little. “let’s hear it.”

you sat up cross-legged on the rug, head tilted. “every time you look at me, do you think i’m the sun or the moon?”

sukuna didn’t miss a beat. “sun.”

“oh?” you squinted at him. “so you’re saying i’m blinding and too hot to handle?”

“that,” he drawled, “and you’re dramatic, impossible to ignore, and have a dangerous habit of setting shit on fire.”

you laughed, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it at him. he caught it without looking. “so i’m the sun, huh?”

“absolutely. you wake up and immediately decide to shine in my face whether i’m ready or not.”

“rude,” you huffed. “the correct answer was the world.”

he raised a brow. “mm. nah.”

“excuse me?!”

“you’re not the world,” he said, standing up and walking over to you — towering like the menace he is. “you’re the universe.”

you blinked. “…seriously?”

he crouched in front of you, grin widening. “yup. everything in me, around me, orbits you. even when you’re pissing me off, i still revolve around you, baby.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but your brain short-circuited halfway through. “...that’s so full of yourself.”

“no, you’re full of me,” he shot back instantly, smug and unbothered, and grinning with way too much teeth.

you groaned, shoving him away as he laughed. “you ruin everything, oh my god.”

“you asked,” sukuna laughed, snatching the pillow and smacking you gently with it. “don’t start shit you can’t emotionally recover from.”

“i hate you,” you muttered and flopped back dramatically.

“nah,” he said smugly, grabbing his tablet again. “you love me. you’re the universe, remember?”

a few minutes passed with only the soft clicks of sukuna’s tablet and your scrolling. but of course, peace in this house lasted as long as a soap bubble.

“babe,” sukuna called, not even looking up.

“hmm?”

“you know how planets revolve around stars, right?”

you groaned, already sensing the bullshit brewing. “don’t say it –”

“just saying,” he continued, smug, “i must’ve had some gravity to pull the universe.”

you stared at him. “you’re so full of shit, babe”

he finally looked up, smirking in that god-awful way that made your heart skip and your eyes roll at the same time. “and yet you married me. whose fault is that, brat?”

“definitely mine. i take full accountability for this karmic lesson,” you muttered, hiding your grin behind the throw pillow.

sukuna stood up, stretching his arms — muscles flexing in that unfair, jaw-dropping way — and walked over to you with the audacity of a man who knew he was too hot for his own good.

“nah, you knew what you were getting into.”

he leaned down and kissed your forehead, then right under your eye, before pulling back just enough to grin at your expression.

“but since you’re the universe,” he said, “guess that makes me your favorite star.”

“you’re a black hole,” you said flatly.

“damn right,” he said with a wink. “sucks you in and leaves you breathless.”

you choked on a laugh, smacked him with the pillow, and swore to the heavens that this man was a menace wrapped in abs.

“try harder, baby,” sukuna teased. “that weak-ass swing won’t even knock a planet off orbit. and this is planetary alignment,” he winked. again.

“god, i hate you.”

“nah,” he leaned down again, cocky as hell, “you love me. more than the sun. more than the moon.”

he paused, lips twitching. “more than sanity.”

“i’m divorcing you.”

“can’t,” he said, grabbing your hand to try and pull you up from the floor, “you’re obsessed with me.”

you just sighed, making yourself heavier, the ultimate act of petty defiance—still holding his hand.

“that’s what i thought,” he said triumphantly, letting go of your hand. “now get off the floor, we’re ordering takeout and you’re not choosing — i still have PTSD from that vegan sushi you made me try.”

“it was fusion!”

“it was trauma.”

“you are so dramatic—”

“and you,” he cut you off, pointing, “are still the universe. but don’t push it.”

you huffed, dragging yourself up. “you better be getting dessert.”

“only if you promise to orbit back to me tonight.”

“you’re disgusting.”

“you’re obsessed.”

you didn’t deny it.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #jjk x you #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #husband sukuna #jjk fluff

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sublimati0ns · 2 months ago

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daily koss #29: if we only have one shot… better make it count, right?

Since I started on the 18th of February, today marks the one month anniversary of me drawing these wretched old men every day!!! I wanted to make something special for it, so I tried my hand at a comic (even though I am NOT good at comics—dear god, paneling is so unintuitive for me that I ended up wrangling this into a webtoon format just to avoid it).

Despite the increasing level of render and polish on my dailies over the past two weeks, this is the first time I’ve really, actually tried to flex my art muscles and apply my braincells to a piece 😂 Here’s to hoping my work paid off! I have now, officially, moved from low-effort shitposts to real-effort seriousposts 😔

(Also, if you’ve never read a webtoon before, hopefully the long-scroll format wasn’t too jarring! >_<)

A meta aspect I love about KOSS is that Transformers is a multi-timeline franchise: Knock Out and Starscream exist across multiple different continuities, sometimes alongside each other, sometimes not. But they only really ‘work’ in TFP, despite them both having other characters as constants (Breakdown, Megatron). If this were any other world, and they were any other versions of themselves, they might not even have been coworkers—just ships passing in the night.

And yet, the perfect storm of random events led to them being in one thing together, with a compelling dynamic at that (even an entire episode that puts it on blast!!!). Sometimes I think about how, according to the TFP artbook, Knock Out was originally conceived as something of a counterpart to Bumblebee—another fast, pretty car, except a villain this time—but the writers ended up fleshing out his relationship with Starscream the most. I wonder what the thought process behind that was—did the devs find their dynamic fun to play with as well?—and whether the two would get more moments together if Prime wasn’t cancelled…

But I digress! The fact I discovered TFP in the first place is the cherry on top of the serendipity-cake; I never imagined I’d ever get into Transformers, but one impulsive ‘hey, what if we watched the new Transformers movie’ from Lacuna at 3AM in the dead of January changed the trajectory of my life.

I’ve always been really bad at committing to projects for over a month at a time—I often find myself burnt out and restless after only a few days, even. So to still have so much drive and inspiration to create fanworks—for KOSS, of course, but an assortment of other pairings and properties too—is such a novel and exciting experience. My tune may change at a moment’s notice (I can be very fickle), but for now I’m eager to keep scribbling on 🥰I already have something planned for the next week of Daily KOSS hehehe~

Anyway, things referenced in the comic!

G1 cartoon s01e13 “Fire in the Sky”

2019 IDW continuity Tread & Circuits issues 2, 3, and 4

Armada episode 48

TFA s02e03 “Mission Accomplished” and s03e13 “Endgame II”

2005 IDW continuity “Choose Me,” Spotlight: Megatron, and Annual 2017 “Chosen One”

And it’s probably obvious from the art, but I love the juxtaposition of Starscream being tortured by god in every other universe while Knock Out is either happily married or doesn’t exist.

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jungwnies · 2 months ago

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f1 grid (2/2) | pranking the parents

୨ৎ : featuring : lando norris, oscar piastri, kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, and yuki tsunoda (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by 🫐) : when you prank your boyfriend’s parents or sibling, he plays along a little too well...will they take your side?

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 1350

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : writing lando's literally took me out im cackling cus its too funny 😂

ʚ・lando norris

you were sitting at the kitchen island, chatting with cisca while lando hovered nearby, scrolling on his phone.

“lando,” you called sweetly, “can you grab my drink from the counter?”

without looking up, he shrugged lazily.

“why don’t you get it yourself?”

silence.

deadly silence.

cisca, mid-sentence, stopped cold.

slowly, she turned her head toward lando, one eyebrow arching in immediate disapproval.

“i know you did not just say that to y/n.”

lando froze. his fingers twitched around his phone, his body suddenly hyper-aware of the way his mother’s gaze was boring into his soul.

he tried to play it cool, but cisca was already leaning forward, resting her elbows on the counter, her expression unimpressed and ready for war.

“you think because you drive fast cars, you can have a bad attitude?” she asked, voice dangerously calm.

lando gulped.

cisca wasn’t done.

“i don’t care if you’re a big f1 star,” she continued, voice steadily rising. “i raised you better than to be rude to your partner. you think i’d ever let your dad speak to me like that? hah!”

you had to bite your lip to hold back laughter.

cisca kept going, hands now firmly on her hips, leaning in like she was about to hand out a full-blown life lesson.

“i don’t care if you’re tired, i don’t care if you’ve won a race, and i definitely don’t care if you think you’re funny. you do not talk to y/n like that. get. your. ass. up. and. get. the. drink.”

lando, completely defeated, shot up so fast his chair nearly toppled over.

“yes, mum. right away, mum.”

you finally lost it, bursting into laughter as lando sprinted to the counter like his life depended on it.

cisca simply shook her head, sipping her tea. “honestly, y/n, if you ever get tired of him, just let me know. we’ll replace him.”

lando returned, setting your drink down in front of you with the most exaggerated care.

you smirked. “thanks, babe.”

lando shot you a pointed glare, mouthing, “i hate you for making me agree to doing this.”

cisca smacked the back of his head.

“be grateful.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

the three of you were seated at the dining table, nicole chatting animatedly about something while oscar focused on his plate.

you decided it was the perfect time to strike.

“oscar, can you pass me the salt?” you asked casually.

without even looking up, he muttered—

“get it yourself.”

silence.

nicole immediately froze mid-bite, fork hovering in the air.

you could practically feel the temperature drop as she slowly turned her head toward her son.

“excuse me? oscar jack piastri, you better try that again.”

oscar, still trying to play it cool, swallowed his food like he didn’t have a death sentence hanging over him.

“it’s not that seri—”

nicole’s fork clanked against her plate.

you almost lost it right there, watching oscar’s usually calm, unbothered demeanor slowly crumble under his mother’s unimpressed glare.

before she could unleash a full mum-lecture, you burst out laughing.

“it’s a prank!” you admitted, giggling as oscar let out a breath of relief.

nicole sighed dramatically, shaking her head.

“you two are insufferable.”

you wiped a tear from your eye, still laughing. “but did you see his face?”

oscar rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. “yeah, yeah. ha ha. so funny.”

nicole, however, wasn’t done.

she turned to you, completely serious. “y/n, let me know if he ever does that for real—i’ll handle him.”

oscar choked on his drink. “mum—”

nicole raised an eyebrow. “you think i’m joking?”

you smirked, reaching for oscar’s hand. “i feel so protected.”

oscar groaned, covering his face.

he was never going to live this down.

ʚ・kimi antonelli

spending time with kimi’s family was always a wholesome experience—his mom, elisabetta, was warm and welcoming, and his little sister, maggie, was full of sass and always ready to call kimi out on his nonsense.

which is exactly why this prank was going to be golden.

the three of you were lounging in the living room, casually chatting while kimi scrolled through his phone, half-listening to the conversation.

you decided it was time.

“kimi, can you grab me some water?” you asked sweetly.

without looking up, he shrugged lazily.

“why don’t you do it yourself?”

instant regret.

maggie’s sharp gasp was immediate, and before kimi could react, she smacked his arm.

“kimi! that’s so rude! apologize right now!”

elisabetta, who had been calmly sipping her tea, slowly lowered her cup and turned to her son with a deadpan expression.

kimi blinked. “relax, i was joking—”

“joking? joking?!” elisabetta suddenly switched to full italian mom mode.

“ma che diavolo ti prende, kimi?! (what the hell is wrong with you, kimi?!)"

kimi winced. “mamma—”

“no, no, no! ti ho cresciuto meglio di così! (i raised you better than this!)”

maggie, shaking her head in pure disappointment, huffed. “i swear, i have to do everything,” she grumbled, already marching to the kitchen to get the water herself.

at this point, you were crying with laughter, clutching your stomach as kimi sat there getting absolutely destroyed in two languages.

finally, he gave up, rubbing his face in defeat.

“it was a prank...” he muttered, sighing dramatically.

elisabetta narrowed her eyes.

maggie returned with the water, setting it down in front of you with a proud smile.

“there you go, y/n. because i’m a decent human being.”

kimi groaned, burying his face in his hands. “i hate all of you.”

you smirked, taking a sip. “ah, refreshing.”

ʚ・ollie bearman

you were in the cereal aisle, reaching for a box on the top shelf, but it was just out of your grasp.

“babe,” you called sweetly, “can you grab that for me?”

ollie, without even hesitating, smirked and said, “nah, figure it out.”

silence.

his little sister’s jaw dropped.

she turned to him so fast, you swore you heard a whoosh.

“what did you just say to her?!”

ollie barely had time to react before she grabbed the nearest object—a pack of biscuits—and chucked it at him.

“ow—what the hell?!” ollie yelped, barely managing to dodge it.

she crossed her arms, glaring up at him like he had committed an actual crime.

“go get it before i tell mum you were being rude.”

ollie, still laughing but also fearing for his life, threw his hands up. “it was a prank, relax!”

his sister huffed, clearly unimpressed, before looking at you. “you don’t deserve this, y/n, you deserve someone better than my lazy brother, i think even i deserve a less lazy brother.”

ollie sighed, grabbing the cereal box and placing it in your hands.

“there, happy?”

his sister snatched the biscuits back off the floor. “no. i’m still telling mum.”

ollie groaned as you laughed, completely entertained.

this was definitely worth it.

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you were seated at a small corner table, enjoying your drinks, when you realized your phone was just out of reach.

“yuki,” you asked sweetly, “can you pass me my phone?”

yuki, barely looking up from his coffee, scoffed.

“what, you can’t reach?” (ironic right...)

instant. regret.

his mum immediately stopped mid-sip, slowly setting her teacup down with an audible clink.

the café noise seemed to fade into the background as she turned, her eyes narrowing.

“tsunoda yuki! nani yatteru no!?” ("what are you doing!?")

yuki froze.

his back straightened like he was about to receive a race penalty.

“kaa-san, it was a joke!” ("mom, it was a joke!")

she stared at him for one long, judging second before exhaling sharply, picking up her tea again.

“hmph. no dinner for you tonight.”

your laughter exploded out of you, nearly choking on your drink as yuki gaped.

“what?! no, wait—”

his mum casually sipped her tea, unfazed. “you want to be rude? then you can eat air.”

yuki turned to you in pure betrayal.

“look what you did,” he muttered, shoving your phone toward you.

you smirked, taking it. “thank you, babe.”

he huffed. “i hate this family.”

his mum simply shrugged. “i’ll see if i feel bad later.”

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seumyo · 3 months ago

Text

people thinking that sakusa’s being maltreated because of the bruises on his forearm, but the truth is . .

Sakusa is known to always wear his compression sleeves on and off the court for post-game press conferences. It completed his signature look. His overall flair.

Everything seemed normal at first, but it wasn’t long before murmurs surfaced through the room. Reporters exchanged glances, some scrolling through their phones, others whispering among themselves.

The reason? For the first time in a long while, Sakusa wasn’t wearing his compression sleeves.

His toned forearms were exposed for everyone to see, and to the media’s surprise, they weren’t completely unblemished. Faint bruises and clusters of reddish dots speckled his skin—nothing severe, but noticeable enough to raise eyebrows. Some looked older, fading into his skin, while others were more recent.

The questions were bound to come.

“Sakusa-san, many fans have noticed that you’re not wearing your usual sleeves today. And, well…” she hesitated, gesturing vaguely at his arms.

“There’s been a lot of speculation about the marks on your skin. Is everything alright?”

Sakusa blinked once, his expression unreadable. He glanced down at his arms, clearly catching onto what she meant. A moment of silence passed before he let out a slow exhale through his nose.

He knew this would happen eventually.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Then, into the mic, he deadpanned, “I’m fine.”

The room remained unconvinced.

Sakusa could already imagine what the internet was saying. Rumors were probably spreading like wildfire—was he getting into fights? Had he been injured in training? Worse, was something happening at home?

“If I may, are those from mosquitos? With the recent outbreak of mosquitos due to the warm weather, could it be from those?”

“No.”

“Allergies, perhaps?”

“None.”

A few more reporters shuffled in their seats, hesitant but clearly eager to dig deeper.

Then, another one asked, “Just to clarify, you’re saying these marks aren’t from… any sort of external conflict?”

Sakusa’s brow twitched. He leaned forward slightly, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask as he adjusted the mic, and let out another small sigh. “I’m not being abused, if that’s what people are implying.”

The room went silent. His fellow players exchanged approving nods, letting their teammate handle the situation.

“My wife is in medical school,” Sakusa continued, his voice even, matter-of-fact. “She’s refreshing her phlebotomy skills, and I often volunteer to be her patient whenever she needs someone for a demo or assignment.”

The silence stretched for a moment before a few quiet chuckles broke through, some from relief, others from sheer amusement at the unexpected explanation. Well, it wasn’t often Sakusa talked about you.

“So… you’re saying these marks are from blood extractions?”

“Yes,” he answered, tilting his head slightly as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “She wants to practice, and I’d rather help her than have her struggle to find volunteers.”

Hinata whispered something to Bokuto, but even with the low volume of the mic, Sakusa still caught it.

“That’s kinda romantic.”

He turned his head slightly to glare at them, but Bokuto was already grinning. “No, but really! That’s, like, peak husband material. You’re not even fond of monthly checkups.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Meian chuckled. “You’re literally letting someone practice on you repeatedly. That’s dedication.”

Reporters were already typing away, some clearly rewriting their headlines. What had started as a potentially scandalous story had turned into something else entirely.

The media had long known Sakusa to be a private person, almost aggressively so. He rarely spoke about his personal life, and to this day, many fans still couldn’t believe he was married. Out of all the MSBY Black Jackals players, Sakusa and your marriage are by far the most private.

It wouldn’t even have been known if it weren’t for Hinata’s post with the newly wedded couple a year ago!

And yet, here he was, casually revealing that he lets you practice medical procedures on him just to support your studies.

“Is she any good?” another reporter asked, grinning now. “At phlebotomy?”

His eyes narrowed briefly. “Her undergraduate course is medical laboratory science—so yes, she’s been doing this for years.”

“And you’ve never complained?”

He shrugged. That was the stupidest question he’s heard today.

“Why would I? She supports me in my career. The least I can do is support her in hers.”

The room was quiet for a second before a wave of approving murmurs spread across the lobby area. The tension had completely shifted.

Bokuto grinned. “Man, you’re really down bad for your wife, huh?”

Sakusa sighed, clearly regretting every life decision that led him to sitting next to Bokuto in this moment. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to volleyball.”

Hinata laughed. “It’s not, but it’s fun to watch you get all flustered as you tell them more about [Last Name], Omi!”

“I’m not flustered,” Sakusa muttered, tugging at his jersey sleeve slightly as if contemplating whether he should just start wearing them all the time again to avoid situations like this.

“Like hell ye aren’t,” Atsumu snorted.

By the time the conference ended, social media had already latched onto the revelation.

#SakusaBestHusband started trending almost immediately, with fans gushing over how unexpectedly sweet he was. Some joked that they wanted a “Sakusa-level” of support in their relationships.

You had been watching the press conference from your laptop at home, your face buried in your hands as your notifications blew up.

A few minutes later, Sakusa messaged you.

Kiyoomi: I hate the internet.

You: And they love you, actually.

Kiyoomi: They won’t shut up about me letting you stab me with needles.

You: You do let me stab you with needles.

Kiyoomi: It’s more than that. Ugh, people don’t educate themselves enough about your profession

Kiyoomi: And it sounds worse when you say it like that.

You laughed, shaking your head.

You: Well, you are the best husband in the whole world ever. You kind of brought this on yourself.

He didn’t reply right away, and you assumed he was on his way back home. But when your phone buzzed again, your heart warmed at the short but sincere message.

Kiyoomi: You’re worth it. Be home in 20 minutes

#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x fem!reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq drabble #hq sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #hq kiyoomi #haikyuu kiyoomi

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caitlynsrighteye · 18 days ago

Note

Hi! Can i request a caitlyn x reader? where reader is starting to get baby fever and is getting sensitive about it and doesnt want to let caitlyn know cause she dont know how cait would react if she says she wants a baby? ... Could be wholesome or smut. Or both honestly... Thanks. I literally read all the things you wrote already keep up the good work i really enjoyed them.

Baby fever with Caitlyn

G!P Caitlyn Kiramman x reader

Contains: SMUT, fluff, wlw, g!p, fem!reader, established relationship, vanilla, cowgirl, blowjob, soft baby fever and conceiving

wc: 3.2k

Masterlist

She already goes through so much. Plate is always full with duties and priorities. Sheriff of Piltover and head of the Kiramman name. Standards to live up to fully, whether it’s set by herself or by others. Leaving you early in the morning with a quick kiss to your forehead while you’re still asleep and coming home late after another long day at work.

And you. Giggling, smiling in awe as you stroll the Piltovian markets and pass by a children’s clothing store. Walking around inside to find the most adorable shoes in the shape of lions, bear onesies and tiny shirts with almost cringe-worthy quotes. You pinch the edge of one hanging on a rack with other shirts, taking a closer look at its size and how your hand covers its entire torso.

Your heart throbbed at the sight of all of these miniature clothes. Watching a couple push their toddler in a stroller, browsing toys while the small child happily holds the item they picked out. You would often be scrolling on your phone, randomly coming across pov videos, watching a baby in a onesie attempt in climbing up a seesaw to ride it.

The sound of their sweet wordless voices, the soft looking chub on their cheeks, and you could almost smell the baby breath through your screen.

The baby fever has haunted you, lingered deep in your thoughts. It even had you confused, you thought you’ve been ovulating since last month.

You sit on the couch in the living room of you and your wife’s shared home. Legs tucked up on the sofa while you lean on the arm rest, once again scrolling on your phone with an opened book left forgotten on your lap.

It was sometime in the evening, Caitlyn should be back soon. The fireplace crackling, and the flickering light glowing on your features while you dream of a life you could grow with whom you love.

You heard your front door open and heavy feet stepping inside your home. Caitlyn finds you, stupidly smiling at your phone while you continue to watch the same videos over and over again.

“What has you grinning like that, Darling?” She says. You turn your attention, finding a tired, but sly smirk tilted on her lips as she makes you way to sit next to you. You fix your position and she sits down, hip to hip, throwing an arm around your shoulder, trying to peek at your phone.

You tilt it away slightly. “Just…” you weren't sure if this was a good time to tell her, but the thoughts have been eating you alive. You gently sighed, figuring out how to break the news.

“I've been thinking a lot,” that was a start. She had leaned forward over her lap to look you in the eye with her one and only. One not covered by a dark blue eyepatch. Your fingers fidgeted, tapping the backside of your phone as you tried swallowing the uncomfortable lump in your throat.

She took your cheek in her hand, turning your head slowly but surely to meet her gaze fully. “My love, you can tell me anything,” she said with such comfort in her tone. Though tired after a long day she's still there to reassure you when you're in need. Which just makes you more sure that you want to start something with her. To share a life with her and something beautiful you both create.

You inhale deeply, exhaling the breath before you say, “What would you think about trying for a baby?” You face winces just slightly, bracing for a negative reaction.

Caitlyn doesn't say anything at first, but with her hand still on your cheek her thumb rubs it gently. Her lips pressing together, curling upwards, smiling along with her eye that squints while staring into you deeply.

You both sat together in silence. The smell of wood burning, the warmth of the fire, its glow highlighting your soft expression. Her knee touching yours, hand caressing your cheek. She huffs to herself.

“Darling, that's what you were so nervous about telling me?” the hand on your cheek reaches for a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

Your hand closest to her reaches for her thigh to fiddle with the fabric of her pants. “I just thought… with you being so busy with work and everything else, I thought it would maybe be too much. I didn’t want to be selfish,” you look around the room. “And it gets quiet around here, maybe a child of our own can fill that void, you know?”

She takes a moment before leaning in. Her soft lips meet yours in a tender kiss, slow and full of love. Noses brushing together as your lips tangle.

She breaks the kiss, eye slowly opens with a sweet smile on her lips.

“Love, in what world would that be selfish? I would love to have a child with you,” her voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. You search for any signs of uncertainty, and when she expresses nothing but genuine assurance you jump from your spot on the sofa, launching yourself into her arms. She catches you, hugs you close with her arms holding your waist tightly while your arms are around her neck.

You giggle into her shoulder. Feet swinging in pure joy. You repeatedly say ‘thank yous’ and ‘I love yous’ in her neck, giving her skin soft pecks while she leans in your touch.

You sigh in relief. Kissing up her jaw before planting a kiss on her mouth. Your palms squishing her cheeks, holding her still and close, feeling her smile within your passionate kiss.

When your lips break off from hers, her hands meet yours on her cheeks, holding them gently in her grasp, thumbs rubbing with reassurance..

“This would make you happy, dear?” She asked, wanting to make sure you were perfectly fine with this new, important idea.

You nodded excessively, tightening your grip in her hands before bringing them to your face and kissing each knuckle.

“It would make me the happiest wife in Runeterra.”

You and Caitlyn had planned a night together. A night Caitlyn knew not to work late. The papers in front of her laid half finished. Pen twirling in her fingers as her eye watched the clock tick with each and every passing second. Counting the minutes before it's time for her to leave.

Right when that minute hand struck 12, signaling a new hour she was up on her feet, scrambling to gather her things while attempting to put on her coat mid walk.

She could feel her heart pounding through her chest. Sweat began to form on her brow in anticipation. Kicking off her boots and climbing her way up to your shared room. The smell of lit candles led her, like a bloodhound sniffing out a trail.

When she finally reaches the bedroom door. She stares, gulping down a nervous lump. Why was she so nervous? You both have been married for well over a year now, how could this be any different?

She grabs the door knob and turns it. Pushing the door open till she’s met with the sight of you, and oh what a view you were.

Sat at the end of your shared bed, one leg over the other, leaned back on your hands that have been fidgeting with the sheets for the past couple hours. The candle lights flickered and reflected off your glistening eyes that nervously met with hers. Deep and icy blue.

Your cheeks were flushed. Imagination alone was enough to get you flustered but with your wife standing in the doorway, her single eye skimming down your chest. Breasts bound inside your pushup bra and matching panties growing damp.

It had taken Caitlyn a second to process. Process how lucky she was for winning over a beautiful wife such as yourself.

“You're absolutely stunning, my love,” she says quietly. As if speaking too loud will scare away all the love and sexual desire you both were feeling.

She stays by the door, staring, admiring, or maybe a cover up of her wobbly knees that grew weak at the sight of you, worried she'll trip and fall and ruin the moment.

So you stood up, the bed slightly creaking as it shifted. You walked slowly, enough for her to burn an image in her head of your hips swaying throughout the short distance from the bed to the door. The eye contact was on and off. A nervous glance to the side every now and then, but when you were toe to toe, you reached for her hand, gave her a slight glance with rosey cheeks and a sly, knowing smile.

She let you guide her to the bed, hands interlocked while she tailed behind you, having an amazing view of your pretty ass covered in lace panties. Halfway towards the bed you turn back around, continuing to walk backwards while your attention is on her. You stop when you feel the back of your knees hit the mattress.

You let go of her hand to ride yours over her shoulders, pushing her coat off her arms and having it fall to the floor with a slight thud. She goes to undo the buttons of her shirt but you stop her.

“Allow me,” you say softly. She’s hesitant as fist, but puts her arms down and watches your hands move along her chest. Your fingers tremble against the material. After every few buttons undone you glance up, looking if she’s still staring at your hands. Her shirt opens revealing her bra and you help shimmy off the shirt. Once her shirt is on the floor along with her jacket you lean into her, kissing her soft lips.

Caitlyn holds on to you like instinct, like her hands were made to cling to your hips. You run your hands up her stomach, passing every curve of muscle to her underboob where you push up the mounds of fat. She moans in your mouth, sticking her tongue in after you’ve given her permission to do so. Your tongues swirl together inside your mouth, your arms wrapping around her neck to bring her in closer. Hers follow up the dip of your back to your braclip, separating the clip with expertise, letting your boobs free.

You gasp from the cold, lips still in contact. You pull her closer, switching your spots and making her sit at the edge of the bed. Your hands rest on her thigh for balance, kissing her deeply till her neck is arched back. One of her hands on the bed, keeping herself up while her other is on the side of your neck, fingers curling under your ear.

You pull your lips away, taking in the heated blush you’ve painted on her cheeks. You can hear her breath, chest rising and falling as she waits for your next move. You slide off your loose bra straps, removing the clothing and giving her a knowing nod before going back in to kiss down her neck. The further down you go she leans back onto her elbows. You place gentle pecks on her skin, sucking on her defined collarbones. One of your hands leaves her thigh to lower her bra, allowing her breasts to slip from its tight fabric.

You suck on one of her hard nipples and finger the other. You hear her exhale softly under her breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. Latching your lips around her bud, sucking unhurriedly as your fingers pinch. A gentle and harsh juxtaposition. You meet her stare, observing every little twitch whenever you peck over a sensitive spot. Back onto the path of open mouthed kisses along her fit body, making sure each ab gets the attention it deserves, before met with the waistband of her work pants. Now kneeling on the floor between her legs, the everyday bulge of her show-er print twitches just slightly when your hand passes over her zipper.

Glancing back up where she gives you a consensual nod. You’re skilled in this art of pleasure, but something about today makes your knees weak underneath you. You kiss her clothed groin before undoing her pants and grabbing both sides of the waistband, pulling it down along with her undergarment till it's off her ankles and thrown somewhere on the floor next to you.

Her member was half hard, a slight leak at her tip, but floppy on her thigh.

You can help with that.

You use your hand to help guide it into your mouth that’s wet from salivation. She throws her head back and hisses as you suck on her soft length. Her cock grows harder by the second with each bob of your head.

She whimpers under the touch of your mouth that becomes more compact and tight as she hardens, your throat getting shallower as her tip grazes the back. Once she’s hard enough for you to stroke your hand along it you pull your mouth off till it's only her tip between the warmth of your lips. You jerk her with your hand while sucking on her sensitive cockhead.

“Oh.. yes baby, fuck,” she lays back, head digging into the sheets and her hips gently buck when you bottom out on her cock. Gagging when she twitches, just that centimeter of movement felt as if she went deeper. You bob up and down her cock. Fully engulfing her flesh in your warm, wet mouth. Her hand found its way into your hair, brushing anything in your face and holding it up in a makeshift ponytail. Keeping it out of the way while using you as leverage.

Her chest heaves and arches. Ball sack ready to squeeze out what is stored, but you don't let her. You pull off of her, earning a struggling sigh from your wife. Cock standing tall, twitching on edge.

She lifts her head to look in your direction. “Darling–”

“Finish inside me, baby,” she watches you stand and climb onto the bed next to her, placing a hand on her cheek and turning her head for a kiss. She lays surprised, but gives in less than a moment later. Swinging an arm around your waist.

You both kiss while she rolls you over onto your back. She gets on top of you and you gasp when you feel her erection poke your inner thighs that spread wider for her. She grinds herself on your clit to your naval, her hands on boths sides of you while yours pull her face closer, kissing her deeper.

Your hands follow the fabric of her bra around her torso to unclip it. She pulls away from you for just a second to remove her bra before coming back in to trade spit. One of her hands slips to your panty waistband, tugging it from the back to pull it off your ass then down your legs while you kick the lace off and throwing it somewhere in the room.

She breaks the kiss for you both to look down at her erection, glistening with your spit and leaking pre on your pelvis. Your drenched hole twitches in anticipation, beginning to get impatient.

With just her hips, she aims her tip to your entrance. Her swollen head meeting between your folds before accidentally slipping back up to your clit from how soaked you were.

“Shit,” she says. You both giggle, feeling like it was your awkward first time with each other all over again.

She tries again, using her hand around her shaft this time. Letting go once her cockhead had dipped inside, then she let her hips take over, slowly thrusting. You take it inch by inch till her baby maker has met your slickness.

Your back arches, adjusting around her while she kisses your breasts. Your fingernails digging into her shoulders.

“Oh fuck…” she whispered in your cleavage, kissing up to your neck where she pecks it softly. “You feel so good,” the same phrase she's mentioned almost everyday of your marriage, but today with added intimacy of creation.

You moan, feeling yourself loosen and ready for her to start thrusting. You buck your hips and whisper a “Fuck me, baby,” in her ear, your breath sending chills down her spine. She pulls her cock out halfway, then rams back in. A low-tempo pace with harsh thrusts to make sure she hits as deep as she can each time.

Her lips leave your neck to watch you look breathless. Eyes half lidded, sweat building on your forehead and your sweet moans escaping your mouth. So beautiful. You're the woman she married and hopefully soon to become pregnant with her baby. She leans in and passionately kisses you. Wanting to feel every part of you while you conceive.

Her hips snap against yours. Her sack clapping on your skin as she does her best to kiss your cervix with her tip. Hard shaft penetrating your sopping hole, walls clenching and tightening. Holding onto her length like you never want her to exit.

Your wife groans deeply, completely addicted to the feeling of your insides wrapped around her girth. Her hips keep pace, trying to increase in speed yet tires.

You push up on her chest, flipping her over so you're now straddling her cock. Quickly bouncing your ass on her lap.

In shock she groans, “Ah~ fuck, darling.” Her hands find your hips, helping you bounce harder.

“We're making this baby together, aren't we?” You say. Lifting your hips up then back down. Your ass slapping on her thighs with each bounce. You tits following your motion, bouncing in circular rotations.

You lean over her till your chest meets with hers. You kiss her eyepatch before trailing pecks to her lips that are moaning whenever you squeeze around her.

“Oh fuck, Cait–” you moan. Her tip abusing your sweetest spots, tickling your kidneys when she feels so close to your soul. She wraps her arms around you, bringing her knees to a bend and thrusting up into your cunt. Your lips still latched, tongue finding hers in her mouth, swirling around as your insides tighten.

The bed creaks underneath you, her thrusts becoming relentless. You cuss gutturally into her mouth, squeezing her hard as you gush around her. Your body is shaking uncontrollably on top of her.

She makes a few more harsh thrusts before releasing into you, keeping her cock deep inside your heat. Both of you moan together as you stay interlinked. Body combined as one, hot with intimacy and love, and hope in conceiving.

You both fall onto your sides, still stuck together as you hold each other close, not wanting to part. Her hips buck slowly and gently, making sure no cum escapes and wastes.

Breathing hard, air feeling steamy. Overheated bodies relieved by the cool sheets of the bed. Her arms hold you tight, while you hand plays with her navy hair roots on the back of her head, massaging her scalp.

“I love you,” she says softly. Her face tucked in your neck, eye closed with exhaustion. “I love you so much.”

Your lips curl into a sweet closed mouth smile that she can feel when your cheek flexes on her forehead.

“I love you too, my love,” you both lay in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other. You don't know if it worked this time, but you will try over and over again till you finally have a part of your wife growing inside of you.

Note: AHHHHH!!! Thank you for the request and thank you for your patience. I've tried getting this done all week but i was so busyy!

Hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading everyone :))))

Have a good day/night♡♡♡

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salemlunaa · 2 months ago

Text

EMOTIONS ARE FLEETING, FACT IS FOREVER ⋆.˚ 𓆉

all that matters is the life you choose as fact.

I just wanted to remind you that your emotions don’t determine anything. Fuck 3D proof, YOU ARE the person that has everything they want. YOU ARE the top priority, YOU ARE all that is. There is no one above YOU.

Some of you get this rush of excitement about living your dream lives all for it to come crashing down, and then you’re in a slump, doomscrolling on tumblr looking for things you already know about. Looking for refreshers when YOU ARE knowledge. And then you feel icky, because you feel like you’re wasting time feeling like shit when you should be locking in.

And to that i say:

emotions are fleeting.

Whether you feel like crap today, maybe due to circumstances. Whether you feel frustrated. Whether you feel this sense of extreme happiness. It doesn’t matter. Emotions pass. Whatever you are feeling shall pass. The only constant thing is you, and what you decide to be fact.

Emotions don’t manifest, you can feel like shit and still induce the void state. You can be depressed and still affirm your away into your dream life. You don’t have to keep your emotions at a 10 every second of the day to achieve your dreams, because emotions are something you feel in the sense of your outerman.

YOU ARE all that is. YOU ARE every emotion there is. The outerman only focuses on one emotion at a time. Don’t let that sway you.

Before I manifested my dream life, I equated what I was feeling with my ability to manifest. If I felt demotivated it meant I was stuck right back in my circumstances. I had to get rid of that attitude because no matter what I felt, it was already done, I already had everything. Emotions weren’t permanent but my awareness was, and as long as I chose to resonate with the new story no matter how shitty life felt, then I was there and it was done. That’s how I did it, I chose my new story again and again even when I wasn’t feeling on top of the world and even when I was feeling like some all powerful entity.

Enough with looking for the motivational posts, the ones that make it “click” on how powerful you are. You don’t need them. You already know, you don’t always have to feel it. Those posts give you motivation that lasts about 2 days. And then you’re back, because again, emotions, whether good or bad are fleeting, ever changing, fluctuating, whatever. That feeling of omnipotence will become constant when you realise that no matter what you feel, it’s already and always done for you.

All I had to do was think in my favour and choose the life I wanted, and emotions were nothing to me.

And stop giving in to your outer man’s wants. Your outerman may feel unworthy and unmotivated and will then need for things to “click” which is why you scroll tirelessly and hound bloggers for advice. And that’s why you run in circles from feeling on top of the world and like you can actually do this to, “why hasn’t it worked”. And some of you have been running in that circle for years and will continue to do so if you keep denying your new identity just because you feel bad.

Choose to live in the facts you create and emotions won’t matter anymore

The emotions you feel now are just as real as the ones you will feel when you manifest your desired life.

So whether you feel a sense of joy, anger, nostalgia or a sense of impending doom, just know they are fleeting, they won’t last and aren’t important unless you make them. YOU ARE the only constant thing. So rely on that. Rely on your mind. Not what you decide to feel today

tell yourself:

“I AM NOT MY EMOTIONS, I AM ONE WHO HAS IT ALL, NO MATTER WHAT”

You are the only trustworthy thing, not the things you feel.

EMOTIONS CANT ASSIST OR SABOTAGE YOU, THEY ARE EVERCHANGING

689 notes · View notes

bokunoheros · 8 months ago

Text

˚࿔ LOVE BUZZ | KINKTOBER 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🪲 authors note :// to my 7 iida fans, I hope my kinktober posts of him will feed you well

topics discussed and warnings:// modern/no-powers au, smut, tenya works a 9-5, you work from home, apology sex, thigh riding, shower sex, very light bdsm undertones (mentions of tenya iida being a switch), established relationships (you two happen to be married), hand jobs, kissing, p in v, readers gender is not specified but i do use female anatomical terminology and reference reader as ‘wife,’ FLUFFFFFFFFF, slice of life a little, tenya is such husband material i love him so much, ‘rough’ sex

word count:// 2404 raunchy words

ᯓ heed the warnings laid before you, your media consumption is your responsibility! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

every WORD under the cut will be R-RATED- SO, +18 only, respect my wishes regarding interactions.

𝜗𝜚 no beta, we die like men.

✎ᝰ His texts were always so formal with you.

“Eat without me. I’ll be late.”

“I’m very sorry, I promise I will make it up to you.”

“I won’t be any later than 8 pm. I’m sorry, I love you.”

Though disappointed, you weren’t surprised to be eating dinner at the table alone again. You worked from home, and your husband, Iida Tenya, worked away at a law firm. You sent him back a vague and honestly petty ‘love you too’ message as you ate dinner alone for the third time this week. You could never be mad at him, no, never. You’d only play it up just to get coddled by him, kissed and spoiled.

After you finished your portion of dinner, you packed up his and sat it in the fridge, before wandering into the living room to have your personal phone time. A few minutes passed and he texted you that he was coming home and would be there soon. You didn’t care to reply, just huffing as you read the message before continuing to scroll through your image feed.

Within 15 minutes he’s knocking at the front door. He usually would let himself in, which was odd at first but you figured he probably had his hands full of paperwork. You got up from the couch with a tired groan, following the echoed noise of knocking until you opened the door.

There your husband stood with a tired smile on his face, holding his briefcase with one hand and a nice bouquet in the other. Your originally cold and upset expression melted immediately, your lips parting with a soft ‘oh.’

“I’m sorry I’m late. Again.” Your husband sighed, adjusting the flowers in his hand. They were your favorite kind too, dotted about with other smaller flowers like baby's breath and eucalyptus branches.

“Tenya,” you pouted, stepping closer to take the arrangement from him, holding it gently in the palms of your hand. He stared down at you, studying your reaction. “I got done as quick as I could but, I figured I owed you something.”

You snorted, “You know you don’t have to,” your fingers brush over every petal, savoring the velvety feel of each one.

“You always say that.” Tenya chuckles, rubbing the side of his neck. He watches you chew on the inside of your cheek while you observe the flowers he’s bought you.

You glance up at him before hoisting yourself up on your tippy-toes to give him a gentle peck on the lips. “I’m not mad at you, I promise.” Tenya nods, but he still looks dissatisfied with himself for hardly being home and letting work consume him. You step out of the way so he can come inside, closing the door behind him and locking it. He slips off his shoes with a sigh, dropping his briefcase of paperwork to the floor with a clunk. You stride to the kitchen to find a vase to put your flowers in, and when you finally place them into their glad enclosure with a hum, you're startled by your husband wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“Gah!” You yell, chuckling while he tightens his arms around your front. “Mm, sorry.” He purrs into your neck, his glasses scratching your skin briefly as he moves to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Want any dinner? I put it in the fridge for you.” You ask, leaning into his chest.

He shakes his head, “No, save it.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned him, rubbing his forearm with your hands. “You worked all day, did you eat lunch?”

Tenya chuckled into your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against what the collar of your tee shirt exposed. “I ate what you made me, it was delicious.” His arms tightened around you ever so slightly, “Forget about me, did you eat?”

You nod, raising one of your hands to brush into his hair. “Good,” he says, lifting his lips to your ear before he whispers: “Care for dessert?”

The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you can’t help but shiver at this obvious proposition. You smile faintly to yourself, pretending to act as if you didn’t catch his drift. “What did you have planned?”

Tenya’s voice vibrates in your ear, “Hmm, I dunno…” he trails off momentarily, his tongue swiping a line down your neck. “You.”

You sigh as his teeth brush against your flesh, rolling your neck to the side for him. “Why don’t you join me in the shower, hm?”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” you chortle, nails scratching his skin. He lets out a pleased sigh, “Get in without me, it’s my turn to do dishes.” A hand slides over your rear, squeezing the fatty flesh there before he pulls away from you. You roll your eyes at him, lovingly of course, before you head to your master bathroom.

You leave the door open as you start to undress, listening to the sounds of plates clinking together as your dear husband washes them. Once you’re fully undressed, you open the doors to your glass shower and start the water, stepping in when it’s the right temperature to steam up the glass.

You’re rinsing your face when your husband joins you, slipping behind with a soft ‘hello.’ You share the water for the moment, letting each other rinse off, and taking the time to massage one another’s back when you swap back and forth between the shower head. When you go to swap again, you turn to your husband and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you. Your lips mingle and his big hands find your fleshy hips, sighing into your mouth as he feels you up and down. Without his glasses the metal isn’t poking you in the face, and it makes it so much easier for you to slip your tongue as far as you can into his mouth. Tenya grips you tightly, pulling your hips flush to his. His semi-hard erection presses into your lower stomach and gives you butterflies.

“I love you,” he huffed into your mouth, licking his tongue along your bottom row of teeth. You hum in response, dragging your hands down his chest. He only lets you hum back as he moves you, pushing you flush against the tile. You shudder and gasp into his mouth when the cold ass tile hits your bare skin.

You recovered and snake one of your hands down to his cock, teasing his balls in your palm. Your husband breaks away from your lips and nuzzles into your cheek with a puff, his wet hair dripping onto your shoulders. You move to kiss his neck, licking up the water in his skin as you move your thigh between his legs, hoisting your foot onto the lip of the shower. He grunts as you force your leg between his, and he unconsciously grinds his hips into your thigh. Holding his arms above you to stabilize himself, he rocks back and forth while you continue to kiss at his neck and shoulders, using one hand to wrap around his dick and start a gentle pace.

“Mm, my God…” Tenya breathes, resting his forehead against the tile in front of him. You pump his cock until he’s fully erect in your hand, using your free hand to force him to ride your thigh. You chuckle into his skin, sucking a bright red mark into his collarbone. “M’You like that, baby?” You ask him, kissing his jaw tenderly.

He moans your name as you fist the top of his cock in your hand, “Mhf— Fuck, I do.” He grinds back and forth on your thigh, lazily rolling his hips while you jerk him off. Tenya isn’t one to curse, but when you two have sex the words roll off his tongue so naturally. You purr against his skin, squeezing his shaft as your other hand teases his rear, spreading him apart ever so slightly. He bites his lip to swallow a grumbling moan, balling his fists up.

He narrows his eyes, his demeanor changing as he starts to feel himself grow closer and closer to the brink— “Stop, mm’wanna cum in you.” he grunts, one of his big hands finds your throat, turning you to look up at him before he slams his lips against yours again. Your stomach flips and any objections are muffled by his puffy lips, his calloused fingers tightening around your jaw softly. You let go of his cock, straightening yourself back up and removing your leg from between his thighs. His hand moves to hold you steady by the nape of your neck, biting your lip as he kisses you. You moan softly into his mouth when you feel his over hand slide up your abdomen and to your left breast, groping the meat there.

He moves both his hands to your waist, turning you with him so that his back faces the tile wall while yours faces the glass doors. Tenya has to force you off of his lips to turn you around, facing you towards the doors. You pant as he presses you softly against the foggy glass, your cheek wiping the dew away. His hands land on your hips, his thick erection resting against the valley of your ass. He huffed behind you, his hands admiring every inch of your curves as you watched slack-jawed against the glass. Grinding against your ass, you hum, resting your palms on the glass while you push your hips back against his. Tenya leans down to kiss your shoulder blades with a gentle smile, muttering softly into your skin.

“Missed you so bad,” you moan at his words, moving your feet as he kicks your ankles open. The dominant hand on your hip moves over your navel before his skilled fingers find your cunt, using his index and middle finger to tease your clit. Your legs shake as he twirls his fingers in circles.

“Mm’Tenya, please—“ you mewl and he shifts his balance, straightening up his back. One hand leaves your hips to curl around his dick, angling himself for your cunt. Your husband uses his thumb to spread your lips, before he teases your clit with his cockhead. You shiver, pelvis twitching as he pushes himself against your puffy bud. He plays with his cock around your cunt, lathering himself in your arousal before he finally braces himself to enter you.

His thick cock slips in with little to no resistance, and you can’t help but hold your breath at the stretch. Your husband groans as he pushes himself in until your hips are flush together and his testicles tease your clit. His hands find purchase on your hips once more, keeping you steady as your knees quiver.

“Mmhhf…” you huff, pressing your forehead against the glass. He slowly pulls back, staring at how your pussy tries to suck him back in. “God, you always feel so good…” your husband mutters under his breath, keeping you spread with his thumbs. He pulls back until he’s barely inside of you before torturing you with another slow thrust, shoving himself balls deep again.

“D—Don’t tease me, Tenya…” your eyes flutter shut when his cockhead glides over that one fucking spot, “Fffuuck.”

He shushes you, gripping your hips tighter. “Just…” he trails off, biting his tongue. He pulls his hips back again, before thrusting back faster this time. He’s driving you fucking insane, but holy fucking shit does your husband have the cock of a god so you can’t complain. “Stay still, honey.”

His words roll off his damn tongue like molasses even though he’s starting to pick up the pace. His balls slap lightly against your clit as he keeps filling you with himself over and over. One hand leaves your hip to grip your shoulder, forcing you back on his cock as he starts to fuck you like a feral man. You spew moans from your mouth as he suddenly starts a rough pace. You move your face to rest your cheek against the glass, glancing back at him as he fucks you from behind.

Your sweet husband glances up at you with a smirk, slowing down just to spite you. Your eyes flutter shut with a pathetic moan, letting him manhandle you how he wants. He moves you closer to the glass so that your back is flush with his chest, doing this all while he is completely still inside you. You wince as your hard nipples slide against the cold glass doors, before his hands come to grope your tits.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters into your ear while he starts to speed his hips back up until he’s fucking barreling his cock into you, and the only thing you can to is cling to the glass like some fucking frog. Those big hands of his bite down hard into your tits, making you cry a painful moan. “Mm’my beautiful fucking wife—“ Tenya groans, and keeps fucking you into the glass until the panes shake, your eyes rolling back into your head before they flutter shut at his compliment. You can help but squeeze him tighter and tighter, your legs starting to shake as he fucks you closer to your orgasm.

“Tenya— mmfffhh, fuck—“ you mewl, “‘Gonna make mmm— cum—“ he suckles your neck at your words, nipping and biting at your skin as he keeps his pace, his dick brushing over right where you need him over and over. You tense, moans getting caught in your throat as you start to come around his cock, your knees buckling under yours and his weight. He lets go of your breasts and catches you, but he doesn’t stop his pace. You hold onto him, gritting your teeth as he bites into your shoulder as he comes, shooting all of his pent up arousal into you. Your husband gasps against your skin as he pushes himself as far as he can, making sure to coat every inch of your cunt with his semen.

“Hmm, Tenya.” You hummed with a pleased expression on your face. He hurries his face into your neck with a sigh, “Sorry, I might’ve been too…”

You shook your head before interrupting him, “No, I liked it.”

You sighed, “we're gonna have to shower again.” Tenya chuckled, “We’ve already wasted so much water.”

THANK YOU FOR READING! if you wish to see more of me, ₊⊹

my carrd // kofi (tip me!). // kinktober 2024

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lascvitae · 1 month ago

Text

DREAMIN’ ✵ AERI UCHINAGA.

❀ ༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ alt. I MUST BE DREAMIN’ .ᐟ

ᝰ.ᐟ aeri calls you over to the studio when she can’t focus, but you prove to be far more distracting than anything else.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. giselle x fem!reader ᝰ.ᐟ genre. smut (18+) ᝰ.ᐟ warning(s). dom aeri, pet names (love, baby, pretty girl, pretty baby), choking (but not really), cunnilingus (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), slight rough sex, praising, overstimulation, thigh riding, aeri records your moans :dizzy:

ᝰ.ᐟ word count 2k

ᝰ.ᐟ katty: requested by shawty bae but okay next post make you mine part 3 (maybe)

masterlist.

YOUR PHONE BUZZED against your nightstand for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

aeri <3

what are u doingggggggggg

i’m lonely

dopamine is killing my brain

come over or i’ll die ):

you rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile stretching across your face. there was another buzz — a facetime call this time.

you picked it up and were immediately greeted by aeri’s pouty face, glasses slightly tilted. she was wrapped in an oversized hoodie that you were definitely going to steal later.

"you look insane.” you teased immediately.

"please, baby. i’m literally losing my mind. i need moral support. and food.” she tugged the hoodie tighter around herself.

“you just want some food.”

“nuh uh!”

“mmmhmm. you’re using me.” you rolled your eyes.

“i would never.”

you continued to put on your shoes. "you’re lucky you’re hot."

"luck got nothing to do with it, baby.” she blew you a kiss before hanging up.

you navigated the quiet, dimly lit hallways of sm, holding a brown paper bag of late night convenience store junk food. the building was practically abandoned at this hour except for maybe a few exhausted producers and maybe a trainee passed out in one of the practice rooms.

when you pushed open the door to the studio, you found aeri exactly as you imagined her.

she was slouched in the chair like she was bored, hoodie almost swallowing her entire body. you could see her sneakers kicked off under the desk.

"delivery for the world’s neediest girlfriend.” you announced while stepping inside.

her head snapped up immediately, whole face lighting up.

she scrambled out of the chair and towards you in like two seconds, throwing her arms around you so hard you almost dropped the bag.

"you’re my hero.” she mumbled into your shoulder.

you laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. "but you owe me.”

she pulled back enough to smirk at you. "i’ll pay you back. in kisses.”

"you better." you said, leaning down to kiss her quickly.

you settled on the couch, watching as she took a bite of the snack you brought. chips, half squashed candy bars, a sandwich? and dramatically groaned like it was the best thing she ever ate.

"i’m saving your life right now. this is basically charity work.” you said while lounging back, one leg hooked over the other.

"i’m gonna put you in the credits. special thanks to my sexy, generous, perfect girlfriend.” aeri mumbled with a mouthful of chips.

"damn right."

silence passed over while she chewed and you scrolled through your phone. the studio was lit by the monitor's glow and the leds on buttons and knobs you knew absolutely nothing about. but aeri did and you admired her for it.

"wanna hear something?” she asked suddenly, adjusting some of the buttons.

“always.” you perked up immediately, tucking your phone away.

she fiddled with the buttons some more and an addictive beat filled the room. it intrigued you immediately. you watched the way she bobbed her head to it she was effortless even in the middle of the night. even with a few crumbs on her lap.

your chest tightened.

"this is so good, baby.” you said honestly, shifting so you could see her better.

aeri flushed, smiling as she twisted her chair slightly. "it’s missing something."

"what?"

"you."

you smiled, pushing yourself up off the couch. "smooth."

"learned from the best."

you wandered over, hands sliding onto her shoulders and kneading gently. she hummed, leaning back into your touch.

"mm, 's not fair. you’re distracting me.” she said quietly.

"not doing anything.” you teased, squeezing her tighter. you bent down to press a kiss behind her ear, smiling when she shivered.

“stop. you know what that mouth does to me.” she whined, tilting her head back to look at you upside down.

"maybe you need a break.” you whispered against her temple, smiling when her hands reached for you.

she tugged you closer, and before you could blink you were straddling her, sinking into her lap. the chair squeaked under the both of you.

"jesus.” she breathed out, hands immediately gripping your thighs, your waist. anywhere she could touch.

she lifted her thigh up into you and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet whimper. a quiet whimper that she caught.

"you sound so pretty.” she murmured, voice low against your neck.

“wonder how pretty you’d sound on the track."

you bit your lip.

"make those noises for me. let them hear.” she whispered.

your heart stuttered. you kissed her — it was messy, hot, and a little desperate. your fingers thread through her hair and pull on the pink locks lightly. she moaned into your mouth, nails digging into your hips.

the music still played in the background, beat pulsing through the room as the air between you melted together.

aeri broke the kiss only to trail her lips down your jaw, your throat, nipping lightly. you rocked in her lap, gasping when she ground her thigh up into you.

you tugged her hoodie off her head with clumsy fingers, giggling when her hair stuck out in all directions. aeri grinned up at you with pink cheeks.

"stop looking at me like that.” you breathed, rocking down a little harder.

she cursed low under her breath, fingers tightening around your waist before she leaned forward to create a new track.

"can't help it. you’re like a fucking dream.” she said.

her words made you feel drunker than any drink could. you kissed her again, slower this time. it was deeper and it stretched out until your lungs burned. aeri’s hands roamed under your shirt beginning to trail light, teasing touches across your spine that made you shiver.

"so sensitive.” she teased, voice raspier now. she nipped at your bottom lip when you pouted. but your stomach dropped and you had heat rushing through you.

you continued to grind on her thigh and her hand came up to lightly tug around your throat, making you whimper.

“aeri…” you moaned out. she pulled you closer by your throat, kissing you messily while you rocked on her lap.

"there’s my girl.” she whispered as you pulled away, rocking her hips up deliberately and slowly.

"up.” she said roughly.

you pouted.

she gave a low laugh. “come on, baby. be good."

you barely had time to react before she gripped your hips and lifted you, manhandling you off her lap — making you stumble back into the chair clumsily, arms flailing to catch yourself.

"aeri—"

but she was already dropping to her knees between your legs, hungry and determined.

"fuck, look at you.” she murmured, dragging your shorts down your legs, tossing them somewhere across the studio carelessly.

you whimpered, legs instinctively trying to close but aeri was faster — hands firm on your knees, spreading you open wide for her.

"god, you're dripping.” she breathed, almost in awe.

you squirmed helplessly under her gaze, cheeks burning.

she smiled before reaching over. without breaking eye contact, she hit the red record button on the track.

“make those noises for me, love.”

you barely had time to process before her mouth was on you, and your head slammed back against the chair with a helpless whimper.

your hands tried to grip the armrest but settled on aeri’s hair instead. she groaned low against you at the first taste, the vibration going straight through your spine.

“aeri—” you gasped, already trembling under her touch.

she just groaned low against you, like she was savoring you, and the vibration made your hips jerk up without permission.

you felt the way she smirked against your skin.

"so greedy." she muttered.

you were desperate and overwhelmed, you tried to squeeze your legs shut but aeri’s hands shot up, gripping your thighs with a bruising force. she pried them back open roughly, leaving you exposed and trembling.

"no. you don’t get to hide from me. not when you’re this pretty.” she said, voice thick with want.

you whimpered, the raw need in her voice sending a full body shudder through you.

"keep those legs open, love. and let me hear you.” she commanded, punctuating it with a flick of her tongue against your clit.

the music pulsed, lost under the wet sounds of her mouth on you and the broken cries spilling from your lips.

you were shameless now, little moans and gasps tumbling out with every grind of her tongue.

and when she slipped two fingers into you, slow but deliberate, your whole body seized with pleasure.

"fuck— aeri—" you sobbed, head thrown back, tugging at her hair.

"that’s it. give it to me, baby. let me record how pretty you sound.” she whispered, voice rough, curling her fingers just right inside you.

you whimpered again, heat rushing through you at the thought. at knowing she was still recording, that this was all hers.

she thrust into you harder, dragging messy, high cries from your throat. you felt yourself getting close, the pressure building fast.

"gonna cum for me, gorgeous? gonna soak my fucking hand?” she teased against your thigh, kissing it.

"yes— yes— aeri, please!” you moaned frantically.

"then be good and cum.” she ordered, pushing you harder into the chair.

your orgasm shattered you, pleasure ripping through your body like a lightning strike. you were crying out her name so loud you were worried the soundproofing couldn’t stop you anymore

but aeri didn't stop. she hummed, fingers still driving into you through the aftershocks. then her mouth sealed around your clit again like she couldn't get enough.

you whined, the overstimulation making your hips stutter.

"stay open.” she ordered when your legs tried to close again. she forced them wider, kissing you even deeper.

"so fucking good for me. gonna give me another, pretty baby. i know you can.” she praised, bringing you right back to the edge.

you sobbed, nodding helplessly because you had no choice. you were already too far gone.

she curled her fingers again, slow and punishing, tongue never letting up.

you were already shaking, whole body hypersensitive and twitching under her mouth but she didn’t even slow down.

"so sensitive now, huh, love?" she said, soft mockery in her tone.

her fingers dragged against that perfect spot deep inside you again and again, unrelenting, while her tongue lapped hot and heavy against your clit.

"stay fucking still. be good. take it.” she said, voice full of lust.

your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth dropping open on a broken, needy moan.

"please, aeri— i can't—"

"you can. you're doing so good, baby. so pretty for me. cum again — right on my fucking tongue." she said, not giving you even a second to come down.

the pressure snapped so fast you didn’t even realize you were cumming again until you were crying out, body convulsing in her hold. you were louder this time. messier. the sounds were desperate and beautiful.

aeri moaned against you and kept licking you through it, dragging out every last drop.

"fuck, listen to you. could make a song with your sounds alone.” she breathed, pulling back just enough to watch you. your was face flushed and your chest heaving for air.

she smiled and gently kissed the inside of your trembling thigh.

"that’s my good girl.” she whispered, voice rough but full of warmth.

you barely noticed aeri reaching over to stop the recording, the little red light finally blinking off. she kissed your temple gently, murmuring something you couldn’t catch.

"easy, baby. you’re shaking.” she whispered against your skin.

you glared and she just laughed before reaching for her hoodie and tugging it over your head, wrapping you up.

"there. my pretty girl.” she cooed, kissing your nose.

you clung to the sleeves, sinking into the warmth of the fabric.

"you’re so mean.” you muttered hoarsely, letting your head loll back against the chair. aeri laughed again.

"you loved it.” she teased, leaning down to place kisses over your flushed cheeks, your nose, the corner of your mouth.

you just buried your face in her shoulder.

"you're insufferable."

"and you’re obsessed with me.” she shot back, arms wrapping around you to lift you up out of the chair effortlessly.

you yelped, clinging to her neck. "aeri!"

she just laughed again, carrying you just a few steps over to the studio couch and collapsing onto it with you.

“my best girl. the best vocalist.” she sighed, snuggling into you and tangling her legs with your tingling ones. she then pulled a blanket from the back of the couch to toss over both of you lazily.

you groaned, slapping her chest weakly. "don't you dare use that recording for anything."

“too late. it's my new alarm tone. imagine waking up to you moaning my name every morning."

you shoved your face deeper into her hoodie, clearly mortified.

she just laughed, tightening her arms around you while her voice softened.

"you’re everything to me, y/n. you know that, right?" she murmured, breath warm against your ear.

you looked up at her, heart squeezing painfully tight in your chest.

"yeah. you’re everything to me too.” you whispered, kissing her jaw.

aeri smiled and kissed you slow like there was no rush now. like you had all the time in the world.

"good. cause i’m never letting you go.” she said, nuzzling you.

and then you realized.

you will never be able to hear her song without thinking of this.

taglist — @saysirhc @m00nqvv @yuyuy90

#dreamin’ — ua #aespa #aespa imagines #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa giselle #giselle x fem reader #giselle x reader #giselle smut #aeri uchinaga x reader #aeri uchinaga #wlw #wlw post #gxg #kpop gxg #gxg imagine #gxg smut

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starsjulia · 3 months ago

Text

our little, messy, perfect life // leah williamsom

a/n : ugh i miss my future wife and kids

warnings : none! some more tooth rotting fluff

You were sprawled out across the bed, half-asleep, refusing to acknowledge the very real fact that morning had arrived. Leah, already awake and freshly showered, was standing over you with her arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her lips.

“You do realise you have to get up at some point?” she mused, nudging your side with her knee.

“I created life—twice. Out of pure love for you,” you continued, peeking at her through your fingers. “And how do you repay me? By making me get out of bed before noon? It’s honestly offensive.”

Leah huffed out a laugh before leaning down and pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” she admitted easily, running a hand through your hair. “Now, come on. Rosie’s been calling for you, and Emilia is—well, she’s being Emilia.”

That was enough to make you finally move, if only because your youngest had an uncanny ability to make you feel guilty with just one sad little “Mummy?”

With a deep sigh of suffering, you hauled yourself out of bed, dramatically placing a hand on your back. “See, this is what carrying your children has done to me. I’m basically ancient now.”

Leah smacked your bum on the way out of the bedroom, making you yelp. “Oi!”

“Just making sure you’re still alive,” she teased. “Wouldn’t want you keeling over before breakfast.”

You shot her a glare over your shoulder, but she just grinned, looking far too pleased with herself.

By the time you made it downstairs, Rosie was already seated in her highchair, her chubby little hands smacking the tray impatiently. The second she saw you, her whole face lit up like you’d just promised her the world.

“MUMMY!”

Your heart melted instantly, and you rushed over to scoop her up, peppering her face with kisses as she giggled. “Oh, my beautiful girl! Did Mama ignore you all morning? Did she?”

Leah gasped. “Excuse me, I did not! We had a very lovely morning together, thank you very much.”

Rosie, ever the little traitor, grinned and pointed at Leah. “Mama mean.”

You gasped dramatically. “I knew it!”

Leah groaned, but you could see the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a smile. “Brilliant. I love how I do all the work, and you swoop in at the last second and become the favourite.”

“What can I say? I’m just naturally irresistible.”

Before Leah could respond, heavy footsteps stomped into the kitchen, announcing the arrival of your teenage daughter.

Emilia slumped into a chair with all the grace of someone who had been forced to wake up against their will. “Morning,” she mumbled, barely looking up from her phone.

“Good morning, my favourite firstborn,” you greeted, ruffling her hair as you passed.

She groaned, shoving your hand away. “Mum, stop.”

Leah smirked. “Yeah, babe, stop. You’re embarrassing her.”

“Oh, sorry, Leah,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Forgive me for loving my own child.”

Rosie, sensing an opportunity, reached for Emilia next. “Milaaaa, hug.”

And just like that, the moody teenager melted. Emilia might’ve been in the phase where she was “too cool” for her parents, but her baby sister was her biggest weakness. With a dramatic sigh, she pulled Rosie into her lap, letting the toddler squish her cheeks in her tiny hands.

“You’re the only one I like,” Emilia muttered, glaring at you and Leah.

Leah gasped. “Wow. Wounded.”

“You’ll recover,” Emilia deadpanned, scrolling on her phone with one hand while Rosie clung to her like a koala.

Breakfast was its usual mix of chaos and banter. Emilia spent half the time texting her boyfriend, Harry, while you and Leah made it your mission to annoy her as much as possible.

“So, what are we thinking?” you asked, smirking. “Should we finally meet this Harry kid?”

Emilia groaned. “No.”

Leah hummed. “I think we should. I mean, it’s only fair, right? Our baby girl dating some random boy? What if he’s secretly a criminal?”

Emilia scoffed. “He’s not a criminal.”

“But how do you know?” you teased. “Have you checked his criminal record? Asked for references?”

Leah nodded along. “Maybe we should call his mum. Set up a little meeting.”

Emilia’s eyes widened in horror. “Mum, no! You cannot do that.”

You and Leah burst out laughing as Emilia groaned into her hands.

“God, you guys are the worst.”

Leah slung an arm around your shoulders, grinning. “Yeah, but you love us.”

Emilia didn’t respond, but the small smirk she tried to hide gave her away.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of family chaos. You and Leah took Rosie to the park, where she insisted on going down the slide approximately 300 times, each time demanding that “Mummy watch!” as if you weren’t already staring at her like she was the greatest thing to ever exist.

Later, when Emilia finally left to go see her boyfriend (after an embarrassing amount of warnings from you and Leah), you and Leah collapsed onto the couch together, Rosie fast asleep between you.

Leah turned her head to look at you, a small smile playing on her lips. “We made some pretty great kids, huh?”

You hummed, brushing a stray curl from Rosie’s forehead. “We did.”

Leah reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “And you—god, I love you.”

You smirked. “I know.”

Leah rolled her eyes but leaned in anyway, kissing you slowly, sweetly.

Yeah, life in the Williamson household was chaotic, messy, and loud. But it was also filled with more love than you could’ve ever dreamed of.

#woso #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson imagines #leah williamson x you #leah williamson one shot #leah williamson fluff

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sheeple · 4 months ago

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Okay so is this kinda inspired by my own wishfull thinking? Yes absolutely. Do I give a damn? Absolutely not. Warnings? Age gap (reader 23/John 35) / Reader lives at home / kinda rushed because I want it out of my system :)

Ever since covid you and your friend had a Tinder Night every two weeks, to help you with your never-ending singleness. And when she moved across the country to move in with her boyfriend, the Tinder Nights got digital. And by now you've also broadened your horizon to Hinge.

But one evening bored out of your mind by the selection of boys, your friend — plus her boyfriend who tries not to be invested but is failing very badly — and you decide to up the age to 30 to 40, for shits and gigs of course.

And after an evening of swiping and giggling about the creepy dudes who put their minimum age to at least 23, you kinda forget to put the age back to your five-year rule. Until you get a notification of Hinge a couple of nights later.

John has liked your photo! Match to continue the conversation.

You hesitate at first. From the small picture, the notif gives you you can see that the guy isn't 25 of something. Opening the app, you scroll through his profile.

He's... handsome. You're not going to deny that with short brown hair and a pretty mighty moustache and beard, he kinda gives you puppy vibes as his eyes radiate kindness.

His profile says he's 35 and in the army. Pretty tall too. And his prompts are pretty hilarious too. At least... you think so.

You send a screenshot to your friend of his answer to:

I'm totally obsessed with: Sleeping in a freshly washed bed.

You: Oh he's... like ADULT adult Your friend: That answer comes across as if he is going to give you tips about the airfryer

And against your better judgement... you match with him.

The conversation is awkward at first (from your side at least) but slowly and surely you start to warm up. His jokes are horrible and dad-jokey but make you smile anytime he sends them. He's the first person you text and the last one from whom you check if you have a message before going to sleep.

After a week he asks you out to dinner. He wants to meet you and see if you match each other in real life. And you agree.

So that Friday, after work, you get all dolled up and you ask your mother to drop you off so you can drink a cocktail or two and don't have to worry about driving.

When you walk into the restaurant your breath hitches. There he is, waiting patiently for you. He's wearing a simple white button-up with the sleeves rolled up his arms and dark slacks. Effortlessly handsome.

John rises from his seat when you approach and hugs you, a wide smile on his face. He pulls the chair out for you, like the gentleman he is, and asks about your day.

To your surprise, this is the first date you truly enjoy. John is attentive and seems to really pay attention to you and what you say. He asks about you, your job, and your life. Of course, you do the same. he's a very interesting man and his job is just amazing. He explains he's a captain in the British Army but that he's on desk duty until his injury from his last deployment has healed. He can't say a lot about his job as a Captain, but what he tells you sounds all so brave.

Without even realising hours have passed and the restaurant staff is not so subtly urging you to pay and go home. You want to grab your purse to split the bill. But John gives you a stern look and pays instead.

"You really didn't need to do that", you say as he drives you home, feeling kinda guilty that he paid the bill.

John gives you the same look as before. "Darling, my mother raised me right. And she would give me a stern talking to if she knew I would let a lady pay on the first date."

"Fine", you huff, "but next time I pay!"

"Next time huh?" He gives you a cheeky smile.

You feel your face heat up and choose to say nothing, opting to look out of the window.

John stops in front of your house and gets out to open the car door for you. He walks you to the front door and you hesitate for a moment with the key in your hand.

"I would love to invite you in for tea but..."

He nods understanding. "But you have roommates that are probably asleep by now. I get it."

Pursing your lips, you embarrassingly scratch the back of your neck. "No... I still live with my parents."

John's eyes widen with shock for a second before he masks it. "Ah. I see."

This is it, you think, I've blown it.

"It's a bit too early to meet the parents, isn't it?", he jokes and you let out a sigh of relief. You nod in agreement, a smile forming on your face.

Standing up on your tippy toes, you press a kiss against John's cheek. His beard prickles your lips but you don't mind it.

"Thanks for tonight. And thanks you for driving me home", you smile softly. "Text me when you get home safely?"

John nods and you wait before entering your home until John's driven away. Once inside you sigh deeply.

How are you going to explain to your parents that you're dating a guy who's seriously twelve years older than you?!

second part

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swordsandholly · 1 year ago

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Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

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stove-top96 · 4 months ago

Text

Wicked Game

Ch. 00

Y Batfam x GN Reader

featuring: platonic Tim Drake.

1.3k words

It’s been a hot minute. I broke my hand snowboarding, then had tests. The writing for this one is significantly better, I’m taking a creative writing class for extra credits and decided to try something new with how I formate my chapters. I’ll be posting a chapter to both my story and my concept soon. This idea has just been in my head and the story I have planned out is exciting.

Prologue -> Ch. 01

Class Schedule

1st period: Art

2nd period: Maths

12:00 - 13:00: Lunch

3rd period: biology

4th period: English

3:50 Dismissal

4:00 - 6:00: Basketball practice

(Friday 5:00 -> Basketball game)

You twirl your pencil between your fingers, lazily watching as everyone else scribbles notes, following the math equation Mr. Snyder is rambling on about. It’s been ten minutes on the same question, and you’ve checked out about thirty minutes ago. Not that it’s Mr. Snyder’s fault—Gotham Prep has the best teachers. It’s just maths has never been your thing. It’s 2 weeks into the new semester and you're already falling behind. Probably not a great start.

You glance up at the clock—11:53. Ugh. Lunch can’t come soon enough. Mr. Snyder’s voice makes time drag on and on. You dash out of the classroom the moment the bell rings and head straight to Brandi’s locker.

“Girl, I’m literally gonna lose it. I can’t handle these people, they’re insane,” you spill out, frustration pouring from you. Rants like these have become more frequent.

“Tell me about it,” Brandi shoots back, her voice sharp with annoyance. “I’ve never met people so out of touch with reality. These pretentious assholes.” She grits her teeth. “How are they even real?”

You nod, walking together towards the cafeteria. Brandi continues her rant, but it’s nice—almost comforting—to know someone else feels the same way. She’s the only other Scholarship student in the grade—your only friend.

Lunch is its own endeavour. Students give weird looks as you two eat your packed food. The two of you learned very quickly that these kids were in a league of their own, and didn’t take too kindly to outsiders.

As you and Brandi talk mindless gossip, lunch flies by. biology’s next it’s your favourite. There’s nothing better than Mrs. Young’s lectures. She’s able to bring life to the lessons, and the material has a way of sticking.

Heading to class a little early you grab a seat near the back. It’s the only table without another person there. Mrs. Young tends to be late to class, so what better way to pass time than to scroll on your phone. Engrossed in TikTok a voice snaps you back into reality.

“Mind if I sit here”

Glancing up from your phone, you recognize the face almost instantly— you’d be stupid not to— Tim drake. Dark brown hair, bright blue eyes and a ‘pretty boy’ face. He’s practically the ‘it boy’ of the school, popular, friendly, and stupid rich. There’s still plenty of other open seats around the class. Probably beside people he’s better acquainted with. But he wants to sit with you? “Sure” you shrug, not like you were gonna talk to the guy.

The bell rings for the end of lunch, Mrs. Young still hasn’t shown up. The silence between you two is suffocating, even inside the room filled with mindless chatter.

“I’m Tim by the way” his introduction was meant to ease the awkwardness. He knew that you knew who he was. “y/n” you answer, praying the teacher will walk in, anything to get you out of this conversation.

”you’re on the basketball team right? You got in on an athletic scholarship?” He asked, ignoring the way you slump into your seat. “Yep” you mumble. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for students to recognize who’s on scholarship and who isn’t—especially athletes. But for him to know you're on the Basketball team 2 weeks into the school year— Kinda weird. But questioning him would mean talking to him, and you weren’t gonna engage.

Before the silence could get too awkward Mrs. Young walks in, and begins the lesson. The lymphatic system. It wasn’t your weakest subject but definitely not your strongest. Today is especially hard. Mrs. Young is unusually keen on racing through as much of the topic as possible.

You rush to write notes and keep up with the teacher but before you’ve even finished 1 sentence she’s erasing the board. Sighing in defeat, you slump back into your chair. Maybe if you just listen to the teacher you’ll be able to grasp most concepts? you’ll just scan through the textbook after practice.

Tim must’ve noticed your defeat, because a moment later he slides over his notebook. God, even his handwriting is perfect. Copying down the rest of his notes.

“thanks.” You mumble, he nods with a subtle smirk on his face.

The next 45 minutes follow the same pattern—you write down as much as, then copy the rest from Tim, and repeat.

It's only until Mrs. Young claps her hands together. The loud sound grabbed everybody’s attention “We finally get to start our first group project of the semester!” Her excitement is met with groans from the class. “because I don’t want you guys to get too comfortable I took the liberty of choosing your partners”. Your stomach drops. Not that you knew anyone here it was still obvious who would make a good partner and who wouldn’t.

As Mrs Young lists off names you don’t recognize “y/n l/n” your head perks up. “And Tim Drake”. Fuck. Your stomach twists. You really didn’t want to go with him. Sure, he’s nice enough to share his notes for sure but he’s still Tim Drake, it’d be much less drama to avoid him.

Tim didn’t even bother hiding his smirk. “The project must be a poster of any negative or positive feedback loop. Be sure to discuss details with your partners. I won’t be giving much class time, so plan accordingly”

The bell rang signaling the end of class, and you were quick to pack up and get out. The sooner you’re gone the better.

“So how do you want to do this?” Tim asked as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I don’t really care. you pick”

gym’s next, so you should leave as soon as you can. “Let’s work on it tomorrow after your basketball game. We can choose our topic together,” he answered.

Great, now you’re gonna have to spend your evening with the guy. “My game will probably take 2 hours,” you said. That should probably be enough to get him to back off.

“I’ll watch, I like basketball” you raise a brow. “I guess” you shrug.

The rest of the day blurred together— same mind numbing stories in English, same repetitive drills in practice. By the time it’s all over you’re already on the subway heading home. A wave of exhaustion falls over you.

Unlocking the Door to the empty apartment, you want nothing more than to crash into your bed and doom scroll for the rest of the night. Still you figure you should eat something and take a quick shower first.

Scanning the fridge and cupboards like expected there isn’t much. With a sigh you grabbed a box of cereal and poured a bowl before heading to the bathroom to shower.

The evening passed uneventfully. You weren’t expecting your mother to be back anytime soon, so it was just the quiet hum of the apartment.

A buzz from your phone snapped you back to reality.

Hey y/n it’s Tim Brandi gave me your number for the project.

You roll your eyes. Why would Brandi do that? It's totally unlike her. Tim must’ve been persistent. Hovering over the message you debated answering or not. After a beat you typed back.

<Y/N>

Cool, I’ll see you tomorrow then.

Short and simple, Tim probably won’t send another message. With a sigh you put your phone on silent, and roll over to finally get some sleep. Once you get through this project you’ll never have to talk to him again.

little did you know the project will be the least of your worries.

#batfam x reader #gn reader #platonic batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere #platonic #x reader

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