#cats are such perfect wonderful things
avo-zorn · 2 months
i feel SO much and i want SO much and im SO greedy and im SO full of love and SO starved for affection
and then the next minute im like, ok nevermind im fine leave me alone yall omg i need to be alone and do my shit
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crossmyh3art · 9 months
the way my therapist wanted to figure out what my diagnoses shouldve been
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Aforementioned wife was currently slowly traversing the living room, cradling Oliver in her arms, swaying and humming softly to the music in her earphones while Sandra sat at her feet and complained loudly about being left out. You would be forgiven for thinking Oliver was a baby, when he was in fact a cat. So was Sandra, who was now trying to claw her way up her mother’s leg.
At Leon's pronouncement everyone looked up in sympathy. Gwen traversed her way over to him and bumped her head against his shoulder before handing him Oliver as some kind of consolation and picking up Sandra to continue her swaying as Leon sat down to begin his rant.
It was a nice gesture but unfortunately Oliver was not particularly pleased to be detached from his mother and thrust upon a person who smelt of dog and began struggling immediately. Leon quickly passed him over to Arthur.
“That bloody cat,” Arthur offered his customary token protest as he arranged Oliver carefully in his arms and letting him snuggle purring against his dad’s chest.
modern arwen are bi ace cat parents and no one can change my mind <3
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the-trans-dragon · 1 year
#when I start trying to prepare to move—it feels like the coldness of the bare floors creeps up into my blood and chest and heart and throat.#I stare at a single object and wonder if I’ll miss it or not.#I make a pile to donate. a pile to keep. a pile I might donate if I decide I won’t miss it too painfully. a pile I’ll miss but I don’t wsnt#to keep- I want to give away to someone who will love it like I did. a pile to ask my mom if she wants it for sentiment. a pile for#things that are trash but have salvageable components I can remove before throwing away. a pile of salvaged components that haven’t found a#use yet. a pile of things that are trash unless I find a way to fix them. a pile for a single item- a feather from my childhood pet bird#a pile of my old cat’s favorite planet and toy. a pile for gifts I was given that I never used but still treasure as they sit on a shelf.#a pile of fun rocks#a pile of paper clips that started as just office supplies but now they’re 15 years old and they remind me of warm summer childhood day#scraps of string and tiny empty boxes and wires to unknown electronics and acrylic paint that is too dry to donate but I could still use it#because I think it’s fun to do the work to re-pulverize it and turn it into pigmented paste again#a comb missing half its teeth but I can’t remember if it was a gift or not so I keep it just in case#a tiny pillow. is it even mine? it isn’t trash but a thrift store would probably just throw it away. but it isn’t trash so I keep it#a box of assorted nuts and screws and a tiny little jar that I know I’ll find the perfect use for one dayS#a little bag like the kind you get when you buy a bag of polished rocks. inside it are delicately folded soda pop bottle labels from#a birthday long long ago.#a small box of sequins I’ve had as long as I can remember. maybe I’ll make something with them so I can justify keeping them.#old clothes I loved that are too tattered to donate but might fit me again one day or make good fabric for something else#a single old sock but it’s elastic is still good and I should use the elastic for something because I’m always wishing I had some to spare#tickets to a state fair. booklet for a play i saw. graduation photo. a polite birthday card from a childhood nemesis.#it’s so hard to get rid of those things. it feels like throwing away my childhood. and I had a rough childhood! I don’t wanna throw away the#GOOD parts of it. I need those parts. I guess they’ll still be there even without the objects. but…#I can’t remember the Memories without the Objects. they are my memories.#maybe I should just start by filling boxes with Memory Objects. and once I’ve got them all together. I can see if I can part ways with any.#and if I can’t—well#at least they’ll be packed up.#I wish my medicine wasn’t a political debate… oh well. it’s always been hard to get meds. though I’ve never considered moving over it#I wonder if my surgeon will have time to for our consult before. my doctor tried to assure me that my PCOS would justify the surgery but I#I read the bill and it says No Removal Of Healthy Organs Associated With Your Sex Unless You Are In Danger Of Imminent Death#And I’m not dying from PCOS… I’m just like… Chronically ill from the chronic blood loss and overworked pain neurons and sometimes miss
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beaversatemygrandma · 2 years
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Still thinking about this time a couple years ago after that Thanksgiving where my aunt’s dog bit me and i was out of work for like a week. And one weekend, the current partner of sorts randomly asked if i wanted to spend time with a kitten with no other context. Then they show up at my place with a whole fucking kitten saying how a friend needed someone to watch her for the weekend. And that’s how i ended up with this absolute baby creature for a whole weekend while laying in bed and feeling awful because of a huge hole in my hand.
Long story short, if a friend is stuck at home and another friend has a cat needing to be watched, just go ahead and make two people happy. It works out perfect. Neo was the best damn thing during that week of pain. Sometimes you just need a kitten dropped on you out of nowhere. Emotional support kitten. Best damn job i could’ve taken while dead for a week.
#taks speaks#its been a couple years now i wonder how big that little kitten is now#dealing with allergies was the last of my concerns that weekend#anyways just look at this absolute baby she's precious and i have so many damn pics of her#she was so energetic and i lost her under my dresser a couple times but that's just cat doing cat things#i had this little ball that i put into my empty laundry basket that she was entertained by for HOURS#i have a video somewhere of her inside that basket chasing the ball around in the ridge#who knew that all you needed to occupy a kitten was a basket and a ping pong ball#i didnt but then again ive never owned a cat#she also slept on my chest and it made me so damn happy#i couldn't let her do it through the night sadly bc allergy but still#little purry babby just sleeping there is hard not to let happen#still reeling over the method too#like they just said something about a kitten and that they were coming over knowing i was essentially bedridden for a few days#and showed up with a cat carrier and small bag of food#and within like twenty minutes bc they had to go to works i had a kitten#and i then proceeded to send them a bunch of cute kitten pics while they were at work#like yeah okay just drop a cat on me#i cant be mad about that#then when they picked her up to send her back to her owner they said they knew it would be the perfect thing for me#they were right#even if i couldnt take her they wouldve but then the kitten would have to deal with the three full grown cats at their place#im honestly wondering if their friend even knew that they werent the one watching neo#either way: KITTEN#and sorry about the bad pics they were from when i still had an iphone 8 and i didnt realize the camera was just that bad#well in comparison to the current one at least#maybe that was a hell of an upgrade
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gardenofdismay · 3 months
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thenaervassa · 10 months
Nah I’m good where I’m at 🥰
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imsilay · 6 months
NSFW! mdni, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging, stalker!König, obsessive König (idk lmk if i forget anything)
word count: 1.5k
summary: he was picky and he picked you.
next chapter here
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art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt
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You were doing the dishes as he was watching you from the apartment building next door which had a wonderful view of your bedroom and kitchen. He had seen enough to know many things about you and your life. You left your house at 10 AM every day and returned at 8 PM. You were a homebody, never wanting to leave your home aside from work and you only had your cat for company. You lived alone in a nice house and didn't often have friends over. He couldn't see any guys when your friends came by, meaning you were single, perfect.
He could even hear the music you were playing while doing the dishes. Your delicious-looking lips moved in time with the song, mumbling the lyrics. He couldn't tear his eyes off your lips. Focusing on them and imagining how they would taste. Perhaps blackberry? He had seen the lip balm you bought a few days before when you complained about how dry your lips were in the winter. Would you let him taste it and find out? Would you even look at him after discovering what he did?
His thoughts were cut off when you finished cleaning the dishes and embraced your cat, it was bed time. His gaze was glued on your back as you left the kitchen and disappeared into your living room, and then reappeared in your bedroom. He knew every part of your house. His heart raced when you put the cat down on your bed and then began removing your shirt revealing the curves of your body and the black bra he was stupidly fond of. He moved closer to the window without realizing it. Crossing his arms to stop the aching feeling to touch your smooth skin, his fingers dug into his arms when you finally tossed the shirt somewhere in your room, probably onto the chair, and then threw yourself onto your mattress.
Yawning and getting comfortable with your cat, it purred and get its place next to you. He wishes it was him… Curling next to you falling asleep with the warmth of your body. But it was impossible, cause he was just your sweet neighbor that you only had small chats, cause he was fucking massive and probably would take the majority of the space of your bed. You eventually fell asleep, he checked his watch. Just in time.
Well maybe it wasn’t that impossible…
He continued his observation for a few more minutes but he was unable to contain himself anymore. He had to be with you. He had to feel you, your body, your hair, the curve of your waist and hips. He wanted to touch your lips, but he was afraid that if he kissed you he would just get lost into them and fuck you there.
He shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts before they got dirtier. He grabbed the keys of his and your house and made his way to your apartment. After entering your home and closing the door behind himself, he took his sweet time to breathe in the smell. It was full of you, it made his head spin and heart race. This was his first time coming into your house when you’re there. You were so introverted and had barely any friends. You were living happily in your small world, that was until he came.
The man was over two meters and had on a strange looking mask. He immediately drew your attention because he just looked like some game characters you played. At first he was distant, cold. His icy-blue eyes were intimidating but somehow inviting. You were the first to start the conversation with him, asking about his work. You two became closer with time but it was never too friendly. He was just some neighbor you knew. But he wanted more. Much more.
So after many months of observation and gaining a lot of information about you, he managed to copy your keys. He would come into your house and feed your cat with treats making his presence known and loved. Unfortunately just with your cat. But now his dreams were coming true. He had given you some homemade cookies. And poor you accepted them without any suspicion and now you were on your bed, in a deep sleep, as he walked into your room. Your cat immediately noticed him.
But he was too mesmerized by your sleeping form on the bed that he was frozen in his place. The cat meowed loudly, drawing his attention to it, he gave it some treats he brought with him. Everything was planned. When the cat was out of the room and the door of your bedroom was locked, he walked to your bed. He was finally here. Right next to you as you slept beautifully. He swallowed thickly and sat on the bed. The bed made a squeaking noise with his weight.
You looked even more pretty this close. His gaze lingered on your face; his breath hitched when his gaze stopped on your lips. He reached out a hand and brushed the strands of hair off your face. He was so nervous that his hands were shaking when he touched your hair. It was as soft as he imagined it would be. He tucked your hair behind your ear; his fingers lingered on your jaw before stopping on your chin and tilting your head up just a little, just so he could see your face better. Your lips parted and a soft sigh escaped from your lips when he did; his heart skipped a beat.
You continued to sleep, without noticing the man's touch on your face, thanks to the cookies. His thumb caressed your lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lower lip. He was holding the urge to give into his feelings, to give in to his desires and take you just then, in that moment. But he had to be patient. He wanted your first time together to be special, like you deserved. But it was turning him on so much to see you in that vulnerable state. He just wanted to tore of your bra and see what’s underneath. Then move to your sleeping shorts and take them off along with your panties so he could eat you out until you cum or wake up. He wondered what your expression would look like.
But still… it was just his fantasies. It caused him pain physically. “Scheiße, Maus.” he mumbled with a sigh. He took of his mask with his still trembling hands and put it on your nightstand, then took of his boots placing them on the floor next to your bed. He was ready to curl up with you. He climbed next to you, close. So close that you felt his breath on your face. His heart was beating like crazy now. His hands found your waist. “Gott.” he hissed when he felt how soft your skin was. His arms snaked around your waist and drew you close until your body fit perfectly with his, lips only centimeters apart. “Mine.” he growled. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack because the proximity of your body. Your body was almost disappeared inside his arms. It only made him want to protect and posses you.
His fingers caressed your skin as he watched your face closely. To memorize everything about you. He even tried to count your eyelashes. It was stupid but he was just too lost in your beauty. One of his hands found yours and put it on his face. Like you was caressing his cheek. It was pathetic but he was too desperate for your affection. He left your hand on his cheek and his hand found your back. His fingers tracing up and down on your spine then eventually stopped on the clasp of your bra. “Nein, not now.” he scolded himself with his eyes frowned. His gaze found your lips again and softened. He wanted- no he craved to kiss you. Your lips looked delicious.
He swallowed and closed his eyes promising himself that he would stop after a taste. When he opened his eyes, he was determined to contain himself; to show restraint. So, his hand was on your chin again, tilting your head up to meet his lips. When his lips brushed against yours, he took in a sharp breath; like someone just hit him with a bat, kissing you felt like it. His hand on your waist pulled you closer, as close as he could. His kiss started slowly, with all of his love and affection; with all of his feelings. But the craving... the craving only grew. His whole body shook as he stole your breath. The determination of containing himself was no where to be found with his morals. He moaned into your mouth and his cock throbbed. His hands traveled down and big palms covered your hips. The kiss was sloppy and hungrier now. He was too lost into heaven. You were his heaven.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc<3
Stalker König has a special place in my heart. this is definitely my favorite work. also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
i’m so sleepless so i’m just gonna post this and post the rest tomorrow.
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gotham-daydreams · 5 months
Not Here
[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]
(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)
Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain
Part 2 of this post.
Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.
He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.
Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.
Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.
Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.
The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.
Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.
["I, um, I was just wondering..."]
["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]
It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.
So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.
["Why- why you're a cat!"]
The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.
["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]
Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.
A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.
Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...
Was... was that...?
"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.
No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...
How long ago did this take place?
["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]
["Very well. Third chorus..."]
["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]
["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]
["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]
["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]
Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.
He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.
It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.
It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...
... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.
Why didn't you tell him about this?
"Master Bruce?"
The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.
He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.
Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.
Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.
"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"
"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."
"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.
"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.
You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.
"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.
There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.
Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.
"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.
It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.
Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.
"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."
"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.
He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.
"And this happened all three times?"
"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?
Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?
All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.
Wait a minute-
"Alfred, how long ago was this?"
Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.
"A few years ago, sir."
At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"
"Oh, well, they're..."
... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.
Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?
Oh no.
What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?
How old are you?
"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.
Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.
This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.
Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.
Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.
Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.
"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.
Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.
... Should he?
He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.
Oh. You weren't even here...
Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.
Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?
Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.
Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.
Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.
It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.
Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.
Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.
Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.
The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.
All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.
He wish he was there with you.
He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...
He had missed everything.
From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.
Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.
... He had to find you.
No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.
So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.
He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.
As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.
Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-
Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...
Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.
Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.
Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...
When was the last time you touched these?
It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...
He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.
Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.
"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.
"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.
Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.
"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.
Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.
His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.
Your name was engraved on it.
"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.
"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.
"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.
Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.
It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?
Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?
"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.
"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.
Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...
... Oh god.
Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.
He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.
Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.
Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.
So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.
The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.
["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]
["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]
["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]
Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.
["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]
["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]
["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]
What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?
Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?
You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.
Now Dick definitely felt awful.
However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.
["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]
Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.
You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.
Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.
The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.
He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.
Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.
The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.
How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.
With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.
Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.
You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?
Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.
Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.
It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.
With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.
"I hope I see one of them."
Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.
What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.
"I hope the audience enjoys it."
His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.
Finally, he noticed the date and paused.
That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?
If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?
Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.
"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.
Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.
"About a week ago, why?"
Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.
"Have you seen Y/n around?"
Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.
"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"
"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.
"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.
"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"
To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.
Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.
Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.
As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.
Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.
Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.
Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.
"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"
"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.
The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.
"No... why?"
Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"
Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.
"When was the last time you saw them?"
"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.
"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"
Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.
"Dick hasn't seen them either."
"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"
"I haven't seen them."
"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?
"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.
"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.
"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"
"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"
"... What."
Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...
"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...
... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?
Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...
Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.
Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.
Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.
Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-
["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]
Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.
So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.
Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"
When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?
You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.
You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.
[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]
A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.
["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]
Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.
[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]
["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]
[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]
[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]
["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]
["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]
From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.
Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.
Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.
... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.
He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.
Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.
It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.
Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.
.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.
["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]
[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]
[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]
[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]
After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.
Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.
Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.
Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.
He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.
He had to find you. Now.
Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.
Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-
["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]
Wait... was that your voice?
Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.
["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]
Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?
[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]
The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.
Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.
["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]
["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]
["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]
It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.
Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.
She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.
Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.
This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?
That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?
... She wasn't sure.
["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]
[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]
["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]
[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]
The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.
Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?
The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.
She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.
She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.
Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.
Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.
Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.
Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.
While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.
Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.
The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.
Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.
In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.
All because of you.
You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.
Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.
Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.
It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.
You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.
This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.
Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.
So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.
A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.
The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.
So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.
Well, that's long, isn't it?
Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.
Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 6 months
How to train your pet Human pt.2 (Yandere!Alien X GN!Reader)
part 1, part 3
CW: Abduction, imprisonment, yandere themes, death, pet/owner relationship, tickle torture, humiliation, sexual themes, angst
"There they are~" Kirtch bent to pick (Reader) up, lifting them easily like a child and carrying them with one hand under their butt. (Reader's) face scrunched up in embarrassment. They were wearing an ugly shirt, both baggy and synched tightly, flowy around the body but locked in place like a neck corset at the top and wrists. When Kirtch first presented the tacky gift, (Reader) had ran to hide, forcing Kirtch to wrestle the outfit onto them.
With all of the unnecessary buttons and ties, (Reader) was incapable of taking it off themselves, and was now sulking.
"I have a lot of duties today that cannot be completed in my office, so I thought you might enjoy coming with me so you don't have to be couped up alone." Kirtch gently knocked his forehead into (Reader's).
'Escape chance, escape chance, escape chance-' "Yeah, that sounds nice." (Reader) tried to contain their excitement, consciously aware of their heart beating loudly in their chest.
"Wonderful! I've packed a couple of toys to keep you occupied if you get bored, as well as snacks." He replied happily, seeming so pleased with himself as he briskly walked down the hall from his bedroom towards the main hall. The two passed by many other aliens walking up and down the corridors, none of whom seemed to be the same species as Kirtch. Everyone wore the same cloak, standing them out from the creatures in the shopping district, a uniform slightly lighter in color than Kirtch's. Most would pause while walking to rub a hand over where their noses should have been, and Kirtch would raise a hand in response.
"What are they doing?" (Reader) whispered.
"It is a sign of respect. I am their superior, so if they are not in a rush to get somewhere they are greeting me."
Fear tickled (Reader's) spine. "Are you guys in the military?"
Kirtch laughed, a high pitch clicking sound that almost sounded like a broken music box. "No. I'm just an upper level leader in our trading company."
They arrived in front of a decorated wall, and Kirtch squeezed (Reader) a little while smiling. "Now this is a very important meeting, I need you to be as quiet as possible, okay?"
(Reader) huffed. "I'm not a child."
"I know you aren't. You're a very sweet pet, who is most definitely a grown adult human."
They felt humiliated. It had been almost a month since they were bought by Kirtch, and they did everything in their power to not anger him or appear as though they needed "release". (Reader) constantly watched and waited for the perfect escape attempt, while fighting off Kirtch's affections in as non threatening a way as possible. Like they were emulating a cat. (Reader's) skin burned, but they held back their tongue.
The wall opened, revealing a board room (at least that's what (Reader) assumed it was), a bare room only decorated with a long table surrounded by stools. Kirtch sat (Reader) on the floor and pulled out a sack from the inside of his cloak. While they didn't want to immediately act the part of a good pet, (Reader) was curious as to what was in the bag. The first thing they pulled out, however, was a taxidermied cat. (Reader's) eyes widened, and they couldn't contain their anxiety, shaking as they stared into the cat's glass eyes. Was this some kind of threat?
"Do you like it? I've been meaning to buy you more human toys, so I thought you would appreciate a stuffed animal." Realizing that the 'gift' was not malicious, the nervousness immediately dissolved into mental fatigue.
"Oh. I get it. Stuffed animal. Yeah." They put the animal back in the bag, hoping Kirtch didn't think their exhausted smile was permission to buy more dead bodies.
More aliens entered the room, greeting Kirtch before taking their seats. (Reader) couldn't understand what the meeting was about, since they were all speaking in Kirtch's native tongue, but their voices and faces were tense. The meeting went on for well over an hour, but (Reader) found it surprisingly entertaining, dubbing over their conversation inside their mind like Mystery Science Theater, chuckling with how wild their hand movements were. It was very human of them.
(Reader) fucked up, accidently snorting at one of the angrier aliens. Although they didn't understand the language, one of his sentences sounded awfully like "Pineapple farts", and with how intense his face was, it made it seem like he was describing how his ass felt. Their sound was so quiet it was almost inaudible, but the alien still noticed and spun his head in (Reader's) direction so quickly his exoskeleton creaked. (Reader) bit their lip to hide a smile, turning away from the conference to pretend to munch on their fruit (?) slices.
The irate alien began ranting louder, and (Reader) caught a word they had heard from a few of the underlings they had been introduced to. Bah-blk. Human.
They snuck a glance towards the group very slowly to view Kirtch's expression, worried they may have angered him by interrupting the meeting. And indeed, his almost perfectly flat face was pulled into a scowl, but it wasn't aimed at (Reader).
"(Reader), pet, could you come here for a moment?"
His voice was light and smooth, as it always was when speaking to (Reader), but Kirtch's face was grave as he refused to break eye contact with the alien in front of him; said alien's shell glistened like he was sweating under Kirtch's glare. (Reader), not wanting to be punished later, left their spot on the floor and shuffled over to their owner. Kirtch pulled (Reader) into his lap the second they were within his reach, still staring daggers at the poor alien across the table.
He spoke to the offender, holding (Reader) lovingly with one arm as if to make a point. The man was panicked, waving his arms and sweating profusely, sounding apologetic. It wasn't enough, whatever it was he was saying. He referenced (Reader) as Bah-blk again, and then he was dead.
Before (Reader) could understand what it was that Kirtch had pulled out of his robe, a soundless shot was fired across the table, green blood splattering across the wall as the alien's head was pierced by some kind of projectile.
Everyone turned away, unsurprised by the killing. It was a lukewarm reaction, as though this wasn't the first time they witnessed someone die at Kirtch's hand. The body fell, head slamming into the table with a wet thud.
(Reader) didn't know what he had said, but to kill him... It was jarring. The young adult hadn't payed any attention to the tears dripping down their chin until Kirtch wiped them off. The roughness of his hand startled (Reader), making them flinch away from his touch.
For the rest of the meeting (Reader) couldn't pry their eyes away from the dead body lying across from them. It was a nightmare seemingly without an end, staring at a corpse while his murderer held (Reader) tenderly, rubbing his thumb on their side absentmindedly while discussing business with colleagues like it was a regular Tuesday.
If (Reader) was more aware, they would be disgusted with themselves for not fighting Kirtch as he picked them up to go back to their room, but they just wanted to go back to the safety of their *bed*, and couldn't force their brain to focus on anything else.
The bed was more like a twin sized pillow nestled in a metal cage, but it was soft and felt secure, like when (Reader) was young and thought that hiding under their blanket would protect them from the shadow people in their closet.
"Are you alright, (Reader)?" Kirtch asked, his voice full of concern.
(Reader) curled up, pulling the blanket tight over their face.
Kirtch sighed, and crouched down by (Reader's) bed. "(Reader), please don't be upset with me. If this is about my colleague, please know that what I did was necessary."
"Murder is never necessary."
"He tried to accuse me of not being.. as invested in the job as I should be. And that the reason for my lack of dedication was you. He used very strong language." Kirtch placed a hand on (Reader's) back. "I told him not to disrespect you. Yet he continued."
(Reader) began crying, shaking under Kirtch's touch. "Are you saying that I'm the reason he's dead?"
"Oh, pet.." Kirtch sighed again, pulling (Reader) out of the fetal position and into his arms. "I've always been incredibly interested in humanity. When I was a young child, there was a 'book' in my father's study about primitive species, and that's how I learned about humans. Did you know that you and I experience life differently from one another? Our brains function differently. We have different pain receptors; our brains' physiology are almost nothing alike; the diseases humans are capable of developing simply for existing are concepts we've never had to worry about. Even how we perceive the color spectrum, humans are so unlike any other sentient species I have met."
"I was so fascinated by Earth, especially by humans. We are not allowed to visit Earth as it is a restricted area, so much of what we know is recorded knowledge from captured defectors. My chances of meeting a human were next to none. Then, we had to dock in Dol-Hu, a shady planet only inhabited by criminals and those in hiding. And wandering through the market, I saw you."
"The one thing I've always wanted, for the past seventy years, I recognized you as a human immediately, even though you were so much cuter than I could have expected. You're so soft, and fragile, in comparison to my armoured flesh. You were bent over, but I knew from descriptions I had memorized what you were. As one who has always loved Earth, I am fluent in every Earth language we know of, so I was excited to communicate with you. I was so eager to have a piece of humanity. And now here you are."
(Reader) rolled over, their heart clenching painfully as they looked up into Kirtch's sadly smiling face. "I wonder what I look like through your eyes."
Their heart began doing somersaults in their throat as the tears continued flowing.
"You may have been the only human I've ever known, but I can say with confidence that you must have been the best humanity had to offer. I only want to give you the best life possible."
(Reader) wrapped their arms around Kirtch's midsection, sobbing loudly. His body didn't bend or squish under the full strength of (Reader's) embrace. And that was how (Reader) fell asleep, crying themselves into a nap.
When they awoke, they were alone, lying in the bed with the cat tucked into their arms. (Reader) left the room to find Kirtch at his desk, working on paperwork. The giant heard (Reader) behind him, and turned his attention on them, smiling as he held out his arms in an offer to pick them up. And much to his surprise, (Reader) willingly entered into his embrace, and allowed him to set them on his lap without pouting or making a fuss.
"I have a few more documents to look over, then I can play with you, okay?"
"Okay." Their voice was quiet and monotone, (Reader's) mind still fuzzy from crying so much before falling asleep.
"Are you still upset? Is there anything I can do to make you happy?"Kirtch laid down his work, trapping (Reader) in his arms.
"No.. you can continue working."
"You're more important than my work. I consider your unhappiness to be a crises."
Worry began to prick at (Reader's) skin. "I'm really fine, we don't need to play!"
Memories of the day (Reader) was bought flashed through their mind, causing them to go red and hot as they started to squirm in Kirtch's embrace. "I-I- didn't mean it like that!"
One hand left (Reader's) body to grab something from Kirtch's desk. "Don't fret, I recently purchased a new toy I thought would bring you joy."
(Reader's) eyes bulged out as they froze in anticipation, their heart hammering in their chest. But what Kirtch retrieved did not appear safe to go near any genitalia, a strange contraption formed of multiple thin prongs on a handle. Embarrassed that they had assumed something sexual was about to happen, (Reader) bit the inside of their cheek, puzzling over the strange discomfort they were feeling. "What's that?"
Kirtch raised (Reader's) shirt, and dragged the device across their skin, causing an involuntary shudder. It tickled.
"Ah! No!" (Reader) accidentally laughed, trying to push Kirtch away. He trailed the toy from their pelvic area visible above their pants to their left armpit. The light tingling sensation forcibly clenched their stomach muscles as they let loose a howl of laughter.
They couldn't breathe correctly, laughing so hard that their spasming abdominals made it feel like they were choking. But they couldn't stop, begging Kirtch to "knock it off" while their cheeks hurt from the smile they had. That damn toy tickled every inch of their body, not even noticing when Kirtch removed their pants. They kicked futilely, unable to break free from the assault. Their sensitive skin was almost becoming painful to the touch, but the laughter only got louder.
"pleASE! KIRTCH, stop!!" (Reader) heaved. Their whole body felt tender, highly reactive to each touch. Which made them aware of the fact that the only thing separating them from Kirtch's lap was a thin pair of underpants. With how they had been writhing on his lap, they were relieved that Kirtch didn't seem to have a dick that could become aroused from such movements.
(Reader's) smile fell. I have no idea how Kirtch's species reproduces. Maybe he can get erections, but he won't get one for me because he sees me as a pet. An animal. Their heart turned to concrete as it dropped out of its cage.
Kirtch halted his attack when he saw (Reader) go limp. "Are you tuckered out, pet?"
(Reader) tried to slide off his lap like jelly. "I'm done playing. I want to go back to bed."
"Alright, my stubborn little grump, what is it now? You were all smiles but a second ago, so what is it plaguing your mind?"
They tried to scrunch up their nose to prevent more tears from sheepishly forming. "I'm not a pet. I'm a human. I want to be treated like an equal!"
Kirtch's smile was replaced by a hurt scowl. "Is it so unpleasant being my pet?"
"No!" (Reader) interjected, not understanding why it pained them so much to see Kirtch upset, "I just want to, I just.. I don't know. This is confusing, and it feels.. weird. You're really nice to me, and sometimes it feels like... but then other times you treat me like I'm a cat. This isn't what I want. Either be a bastard and treat me like an animal or treat me like-" Their words caught in their throat. Treat me like what?!
A fearful kiss was placed on their forehead, ghostly with hardly any pressure. Kirtch's hands trembled on (Reader's) sides. "All I wish is to adore you for the rest of your life."
He pulled (Reader) into his chest, petting their back in a comforting manner. "I'll give you anything you ask for, I'll do anything you ask of me. Just to keep you happy, with me. You are all that I've ever wanted. All I wish is to care for you, and spend all my attention on you. If there is anything you want, please ask me. I need you to love me."
(Reader) felt so confused. Like a squid was destroying their gut, everything was uncomfortable and scary. They knew that Kirtch viewed them as a pet, he loved them how (Reader) loved their family dog as a child. But when they heard him begging for their love, it made them wish for an odd moment that he wasn't an alien. That (Reader) was sitting on their boyfriend's lap right now, a strange human man who sometimes infantalized them but only out of affection. Why couldn't this be simple? Why did (Reader) want him to kiss them right at that moment?
"I want to go home. I want to meet someone kind and fall in love." (Reader's) words stabbed Kirtch in places he never knew could hurt.
"I can't do that, (Reader)..." Kirtch's embrace constricted almost painfully tight. "You're all I've ever wanted. You can't ask me to let you go. I'll take such good care of you, you'll see. I have the rest of your life to make you fall in love with me."
They sat there, holding one another in agonizing silence, both loving each other in a way that they couldn't explain. The way their brains functioned didn't just mean that Kirtch could see a wider range of colors than (Reader), but the way their species experienced love was too vastly different for the other to comprehend. Despite Kirtch wanting to own (Reader), that was the greatest love he had ever felt, since his species did not pair bond and only mated when two beings agreed amicably that they wished to procreate. He knew that humans felt many forms of love, love for a mate, love for their offspring, love for a friend.. but to something that never felt any of those forms of love, Kirtch couldn't understand the difference between them.
"I love you, my little pet. And I will always love you."
3K notes · View notes
marxy-06 · 6 months
Favorites Fic Recs 4
was supposed to post this a long time ago but tumblr didn't save...this got a little long, apologies (or you're welcome?)
Kim Seokjin
Replacement (@akinnie75)
The truth untold (@vminity21)
The flower bridge (@yoongsisbae)
Fall for me (@ebonyinktea)
Cinnamon bliss (@yoonia)
Glazed and dazed (@floralseokjin)
Voix (@yoonia)
With you (@yoonpobs)
I'm all yours (@sailoryooons)
Smile (@shuadotcom)
Scar kisses (@girl8890)
No pyjamas (@jinkookspencil)
Min Yoongi
No more (@gyukult)
Chocolate opal (@babesindestroyland)
Changing one's tune (@1uckygold)
Before you go (@sweetcarrotsandroses97)
Perfect for me (@7dipity)
Ps, is it okay if I start calling you dad (@btsficsandsuch)
The third & sixth (@jimlingss)
Insecurities (@taetae-mic)
Performance evaluation (@kookscrescent)
Tricks of the trade (@stutterfly)
I'll protect you (@glassbangtan)
My miss right (@lavenjoon)
Step up (or step out) (@hollyhomburg)
Never, never fall (@joheunsaram)
The seven year itch (@jimlingss)
The sweetest thing (@illneverrecover)
Ink petals (@yminie)
Quiet and qualms (@sugafreeagustd)
Illicit favors (@yoongiofmine)
Jung Hoseok
Outro: love is not over (@kiirokero)
Heaven sent (@aquagustd)
Sunshower (@jimlingss)
Unconditionally (@rmsrkive)
Kim Namjoon
The stand in (@yoonia)
The making of: Love (@inkjam-moon)
Easy, like sunday morning (@angelguk)
Inside my mind (@jimlingss)
Park Jimin
Into the wilderness (@gukyi)
Darling you're beautiful (@choking-on-tae)
Puppy steps (@simp-4-jm)
Strip (@yoonia)
A special gift (@peachy213jiminie)
Lovesick (@jimlingss)
My forever: Park Jimin (@bts-trash-blog)
The only way (@ethertae)
Exposure (@dreamyjoons)
Kim Taehyung
Charade (@ughcore)
Wabi sabi (@flurrys-creativity)
Like real people do (@bangtanloverboys)
Lost in you (@jjkeverlast)
Spice (@aquagustd)
A little while (@noteguk)
Mine to claim (@jimilter)
Colors (@lovelytaes-blog)
Insomnia (@hobiwonder)
Sweeter than peaches (@jiminisnotavirgin)
Jeon Jungkook
Love is gone (@jeonbunnie)
2002 (@tattookoo) -> pt. 2 to 1999
Drown in your body (@sparklingchim)
Last christmas (@whatifyoulivelikethat)
Bleeding for you (@mixtapejimin)
I can handle it (@beautifulfuckup99)
Blackjack (@kpopfanfictrash)
Fifth wish (@jiminrings)
The spins (@here2bbtstrash)
From home (@gyukult)
The habits of a broken heart (@softykooky)
Not tired (@gggukniverse)
Cool with you (@kooktrash)
Late (@elitekook)
ストロベリー (?) (@euaphoric)
Tender (@liveyun)
A friends help (@armpirate)
Nevertheless (@nochukoo97)
Dress you up (@plvmkoo)
Soju (@plvmkoo)
Jealousy ink (@kooktrash)
Starry night (@kithtaehyung)
When she loved me (@jungkookstatts) [only fanfic that has made me cry, tread carefully)
He is love (@btsrunmylife)
Rattled (@gukslut)
Love alive (@jamaisjoons)
1999 (@tattookoo)
Home (@bonny-kookoo)
Tteokkboki (@taetaesbaebaepsae)
Cat got your tongue (@jessikahathaway)
The boxer's girlfriend (@i-am-baechu)
Honest fuckboy (@hobiwonder)
Perfect love (@i-am-baechu)
Soft (@hamsterclaw)
Brown-eyed baby (@jeonstudios)
Wrong time (@spideyjimin)
Cherry (@peachypinkygloss)
Off-league (@hansolmates)
For me (@personasintro)
Bon voyage: Into the sea (@yoongsisbae)
Thank you to all of the wonderful writers, ily <3
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withleeknow · 2 months
my moon and stars.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting) fluff; even tho it's unedited this is still one of my favorite things that i've written on this blog so far !!! gaaaaaaah word count: 1.1k listen to 🎧: lover - taylor swift
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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nobody thought jeongin would be the next one to get married, but alas, here you are, at the reception of your friend's wedding, nursing a glass of champagne.
"come on," minho says, snatching the glass away from you and finishing the rest of it in one gulp, before he takes you by the hand and tugs you forward. "let’s go dance."
you can't even be annoyed that he basically just stole your drink. instead, you just laugh, and let the love of your life drag you to the dance floor.
he guides you to move in a slow rhythm, matching the tempo of the song that's playing in the background. it's a song that you would usually think is overrated and has been played to hell and back, but in the moment, drunk on the cozy atmosphere, you think it's nice. you briefly wonder what song you would choose for your first dance at your own wedding.
it's just a fleeting thought. you've been having those all day.
jeongin's wedding was beautiful. everything was done to perfection, and you have no doubt that most of it was overseen by his girlfriend.
nope, correction: she's his wife now.
nevertheless, you've been imagining yourself and minho in a similar setting. you in a stunning white dress. him, dashing in a classy suit. the two of you exchanging vows with teary eyes in front of your friends and families. the cats as ring bearers. sealing forever with a deep kiss and fond smiles.
as you continue to sway along to the music, you wrap your arms around minho's neck and pull him closer. there's something in the way that he's been treating you all day that makes you melt even more than it usually does. he's been more touchy; there's not a single moment where his hands aren't on your body in any way, whether it be a hand on your knee, on the small of your back, or an arm around your waist. minho isn't often overt with his affection like that; he tends to dote on you in the privacy of your own loving bubble, away from anyone and everyone.
then, there's the softness that he's looking at you with in his chocolate brown eyes. it's warm, saccharine; it makes you feel like you two are the only people left in the room even though this is supposed to be someone else's big day.
"i love you," he says suddenly, brushing his nose against yours before leaning in just a tad closer to your lips, "you mean the world to me."
it's rare for minho to say things like this out of the blue. he's a man of few words after all.
he's full of surprises today, it seems.
"what's the occasion?" you ask with a coy smile.
"no occasion. just wanted to tell you that."
you close the distance, pressing your lips against his as his arms wrap themselves tighter around your body. "i love you too," you smile against him.
he mirrors your smile, and kisses you deeper. he's so sweet today, so openly loving with you even as your friends around you watch on.
you have an inkling that maybe, just maybe, he's been thinking the same things as you.
you stay in each other's arms until the song ends, then another one, then a couple more, just basking in soothing glow of love that's covering the air tonight. minutes pass with kisses shared, until it's finally time for the bouquet toss.
minho reluctantly lets you leave his side for the first time since the morning. his eyes follow you as you move to the front of the room, standing a comfortable distance away from the bride. you've never really been interested in this kind of things anyway; you're just doing it for the sake of participation.
everyone else is engrossed in what's about to happen, their eyes fixed on the bride and the peonies in her hands, but minho is only focused on you. you, who's trying to blend in with the group of people and undoubtedly praying that the bouquet doesn't make its way into your hands. you, whom he thinks looks so beautiful, all dolled up for the special occasion. you, who made his heart stutter when you walked into the room in your pretty dress and flashed him a bashful smile. (but who is he kidding? you make his heart want to give out and run away every single morning when he wakes up and sees you peacefully sleeping in his arms.)
just you. always only you.
you, you, you.
you don't hang in the moon in the sky. you are the moon, you are the stars.
minho watches you watch the bride as she counts down from 3, then flings the bouquet up in the air while everyone waits with bated breath. it's a mess of flailing arms from what he can tell, a couple of the bridesmaids practically fighting each other to try and grab the damn thing.
you try to make yourself smaller, to duck lower so that the others could have the honor instead of you. but when the flowers come hurling toward you, you have no choice but to raise your hands and catch it, lest you want to be lobbed in the face with a bouquet of peonies.
some of the people around you sigh frustratedly, but most of the guys around minho suddenly burst into loud cheers. they clap him on the back and shake him by the shoulders but still, he remains transfixed on you and your adorable wide-eyed expression. your parted lips and doe eyes blinking fast as a rosy flush creeps up your skin.
your eyes find him in an instant, and you both just stare at each other for a moment. he reckons that you're trying to gauge his reaction, because the room is now filled with excited squeals of congratulations and half-hearted jokes of how you and minho are going to be the next ones to get hitched.
you look uncertain, still frozen in place with your hands clutching the peonies.
but then he just smiles, and it makes you smile too, your body immediately relaxing as you give him a wave using the bouquet, your shoulders slumping slightly when you release a sigh.
to minho, it doesn't matter whether you caught the flowers or not; neither of you believes in that kind of stuff anyway. it doesn't matter because he's always known that he was going to marry you, that there's no one else he would rather spend the rest of his life with.
it doesn't matter because unbeknownst to you, he's already got a velvet box hidden somewhere in your shared home, with a gorgeous diamond ring inside just waiting for the day it can be put on your finger.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.01.2024]
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imperihoe-writes · 3 months
Under His Skin
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley / fiancée!Reader
Summary:  Simon loves to watch his new ink all over his fiancée’s body - inside and out.
Content:   pure smut, fingering, finger sucking, mentions of penetrative and oral sex, praise kink, size difference, possessiveness, civilian fiancée
Word Count:  ~750
Notes: Something quick and dirty on this fine Friday night. I just couldn’t stop thinking about Simon having a wedding ring tattoo instead of jewelry. Enjoy. ✨
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“Such a good girl.”
It’s barely a whisper, Simon’s voice deep and gravelly as he watched her between half-lidded eyes. He’d pushed his long fingers into her mouth, and she’d taken them so eagerly, like she always did. 
Ever since he’d gotten his newest tattoo, Simon had become obsessed with seeing his hands on her, seeing the contrast between the black inked line around his ring finger and her skin. 
It had started with innocent little things, like intertwining their hands until her sparkly engagement ring pressed right next to the tattoo. The duality between her dainty, princess-like fingers and his massive calloused ones stroked an animalistic part of him he’d never known.
And then he’d noticed how good it looked when he brushed his hands down her rib cage, splayed his hands over her stomach as he held her down while eating her pussy out. How the straight black band curved as he held and squeezed her pretty tits or wrapped his hand around her throat for a rougher kiss. 
Clever thing she was, his fiancée had caught on to this new fixation straight away. How his eyes were glued to his hands and whatever body part he was grabbing, how he kneaded the insides of her thighs for way longer than usual before pressing her knees against her chest and sliding his way through her slick folds.
Simon had become obsessed with his tattoo, because it proclaimed to everybody that he was taken. Forever. That a beautiful, kind woman like her had agreed to have him; rough and scarred and damaged as he was. 
He wondered if he would ever get over the view of her sprawled out below him, with one hand between her perfect wet lips and the other one stroking his hard cock through his briefs. Simon watched the tattooed wedding ring disappear into her mouth, how her eyes watered a little as she choked but still held onto his wrist tightly, not letting him go.
“You’re perfect,” he smiled down at her, and she finally let him withdraw, breathing heavily. 
Immediately leaning in for a deep and messy kiss, they clung to each other as his hand slid down her body and between her legs, teasing her clit and wet entrance before pushing in his index and middle finger at once. 
They shared the same air as their foreheads pressed together, her toes curling against the bedsheets when he pumped his thick fingers in and out, preparing her for his girth and length as best as he could. 
“Go on then,” she teased him, voice hitching into a near whine despite her bold words. “Watch if you want.”
Simon kissed her again, hard and dominant despite his own neediness, and then his dark eyes flickered down between them. He lifted her hips and ass with ease, spreading her wide open on his lap. 
Once, many years ago now, his girl would have been a blushing and embarrassed wreck at this point - so shy to let him see her arousal, to have Simon bent her in half as he feasted on her.
But now? She only threw him a cocky grin and stretched her arms wide like a cat in the sun, clearly basking in his attention. He forced his gaze away from her beautiful face, torn between wanting to see a third finger disappear into her and the need to perhaps spank that cheekiness out of her.
Since he was a very, very weak man, he decided on the first option.
Simon wasn’t particularly slow or careful when he pushed his ring finger in besides the other two, setting a fast pace with his palm facing upward. Stroking over those little ridges on her walls, the wet insides coating his fingers with slick and practically sucking him back in.
Like a man possessed, he stared. Watched as the black ink disappeared into her, how it became shiny, how he stretched her small little hole so wide for him. It was a depraved thought, to be so turned on by something that should symbolise his undying love and nothing more.
As she writhed and sighed underneath him however, Simon couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than greed and the possessive pleasure he’d felt ever since the first time she’d kissed him back.
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My general COD writing masterlist with all my stories, a COD headcanons masterlist including this one + the COD Halloween Monster Special. It‘s all linked separately in my pinned blog post for easy navigation as well!
✨dividers by @cafekitsune
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jazzyoranges · 3 months
Saw you take requests!! Can you do a fluffy Wednesday x Shape shifter!Reader (no smut please) where it's Wednesday's writing time but she can't think of ideas so reader turns into a cat and curls up on Wednesday's lap? Basically helping Wednesday by making sure Wednesday can't get up until she writes a chapter. Thanks!
Orange kitty - drabble
Wednesday Addams x fem!reader
Words: 0.8k
A/n: i feel like we as a fandom haven’t been putting the orange cat x black cat trope in enough fics. this is me advocating for orange cat!r
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“I feel your eyes on me, (Y/n).”
“I’m not allowed to look at my friend anymore?”
“It’s distracting. You’re inhibiting me from writing.” Wednesday isn’t fully lying. She just doesn’t add how you give her an odd feeling. An odd feeling she doesn’t like.
“Aww, do I make you nervous, Wens?” You laugh, deciding to ignore the glare she sends your way
“Keep talking and I’ll remove your voice box.”
“Please, I think you’d miss me too much” You roll your eyes, stretching on Wednesday’s bed
You turn into a cat as per Thing’s request, and you two start to play tag around Wednesday and Enid’s shared room. Thing happily bragged that you and him were better friends once. His hubris only resulted in Wednesday taking away his favorite lotions for an entire week.
The Addams girl huffs when she, yet again, makes a mistake on her typewriter. This was unlike her. The tiny trash can under her desk was nearing being full only after one or two hours of her failed attempts at writing. Wednesday put her hands in her lap after she realized her words only became futile
The abrupt stop of clacking keys makes you turn your head, giving Thing the perfect opportunity to tag you back on Enid’s bed. You quickly turn human again with almost a cartoon-ish pop, and ask Thing if Wednesday was allergic to cats
“She’s not, why do you ask?” He signs
“Do you think she’d kill me if I sat on her lap?” You sign back, not wanting Wednesday to hear
“As a human, most definitely. But if you were a cat maybe she’d tolerate you. No promises, though” Thing somehow shrugs using his thumb and pinkie finger as arms. God, you loved the weird appendage
“I can hear you two talking. I’d prefer if you’d leave me in silence.”
“Writers block?”
“No, I’m merely thinking of the correct words to use.”
“Maybe you should ask Enid for help. The woman can reach over the Twitter character limit in like… three seconds. Two if she’s really excited”
“Recommend such a horrid idea again and I’ll release you in my pen of hellhounds.”
“We both know I’d win” You cockily smirk, again ignoring what looks to be annoyance on Wednesday’s face. Then again, she always looked annoyed
“Your hubris is laughable. Let’s see how you suffice when your digestive system is ripped open.”
“Tempting, but I’d rather stay here with you”
You can only assume Thing listens with watchful… fingers? You execute your plan to him, and a quick pinkie-promise indicates he gets to bury you if Wednesday decides to kill you after the stunt you’re about to pull
“Hey, Wens?” The Addams doesn’t show any form of talking but you decide to keep going
“Did you know people say cats can lessen anxiety?”
The Addams hums in acknowledgement, so you continue
“Well, I don’t exactly believe it”
“And why is that.” Wednesday sighs. Sometimes she wonders why she indulges in you
“I dunno, just seems fake. I was wondering if you’d do an experiment with me?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Great! Thanks, Wens” You give Thing a quick wink after turning into a cat and hopping up onto her desk. Turning your head to the side as if you were asking a question, you looked at Wednesday for an answer
You were crazy, but not crazy enough to do something to make Wednesday hate you
For some reason, the Addams girl doesn’t even have a second chance to think before scooting back her chair. You’re about to jump into her lap with a paw over the edge of her desk, but you glance up to make sure Wednesday was sure. You receive a small nod
The action is enough to make you whisper a small “thank you” but it only comes out as a small meow
You circle around her lap for a good area to lay, and you quickly take your spot with a tiny smile that makes your eyes close. Wednesday scoots her chair back in, and she has absolutely no idea what to do.
Only when you start to purr a shiver goes up her spine. The vibrations are light, and something about you happily laying on her lap makes you chip away at Wednesday’s walls the tiniest bit. She contemplates where to put her hands before Thing scurries on top of you to scratch behind your ear. Wednesday shoots him a deathly glare in return, but your favorite Addams (don’t tell Wednesday) stays put
As if showing Wednesday how to pet a cat, Thing gets off of your back and points a finger in your direction. Hesitantly, the Addams girl copies the actions Thing showed her
And you? You were having an amazing time. Wednesday’s fingers were cold but every stroke of her hand was calculated. She took note of which spots you purred louder, and continued her movements
Fuck you and your ability to get what you want, Wednesday thinks. Of course your smug ass knew cats lessened anxiety. Of course.
But Wednesday can’t help being addicted to your tiny purrs and vibrations
With her left hand fondling your ear and her right on her typewriter, she decides maybe a cat could be arranged in her novel.
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shiny-jr · 4 months
Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.
Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia. 
Summary: In every land you travel to, there's a god with elemental powers. But why is it that in every nation you arrive to, the gods attempt to make you stay?
Note: Why has no one done a genshin x twst thing? This is more of a concept idea than anything else. I might do a series with it, or not, or just random posts. Feel free to ask about it or request stuff for it.
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This must be a dream, either that or a never-ending nightmare.
Waking up alone on a sandy beach, as if washed ashore, was disorientating. There was nothing else on the shore save for shells and the occasional crab, no debris indicating a wreck and no scattered belongings. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, which were a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your pajamas.
In the center of your palms, was a marking you had never seen before, like a freshly painted tattoo in the shape of a tiny key. As curious as the strange new markings were and you wondered how they even got there, there was a larger question looming:
How did you get here?
There was a cat on the beach. At least, it looked like a cat. A talking feline, with gray fur and the most impossible feature of blue fire lightly simmering in his ears.
It spoke, just like a human, with a grating high-pitched voice. It was a devilish little beast, with little fangs sharper than his comebacks that he supposed were funny.
The feline pridefully announced his name: Grim.
And when you told Grim your story of how you woke up by the water's edge with no recollection of how you got here and little to your name, the creature didn't appear to care. However, when he spoke of elements being used by people and names of nations and cruel living gods you never once heard of, only then was he very vaguely intrigued. Perhaps it was amusement, as he laughed and called you stupid for not even knowing of The Seven.
That's when you heard a growl, not from behind his fangs but from his stomach. If you looked at him from the right angle, he looked quite scrawny. The poor thing was hungry, you realized.
All it took was an offering of cans of tuna found in an empty cabin nearby, and you had him in your grasp. Following you around was only temporary, he insisted, he'd go along so long as there was food. While a talking cat was not the most conventional of guides, it was better than nothing, especially since he knew basic knowledge of each nation and where the nearest sign of civilization was located.
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Through the winding dark woods where mysterious creatures lurked in hollow trees and dead end paths, were meadows of flowers and peaceful grooves. However, don't let the tranquillity of nature fool you. In the distance were mountains– not actually mountains, but volcanoes and hot sprints along this land's border.
It's been said that the very millions of roses and other greenery in this land, was formed when ash rained down on dry barren earth for nearly a month. Ash from those very dormant volcanoes that were the backdrop to this perfect scenery, which came in huge black clouds thousands of years ago and blanketed the earth.
A god, an archon, the deity of law that rained hell on earth over thousands of years ago.
Long ago this land was a country of criminals ruled by a god of chaos that reveled in havoc and disorder. Among the mayhem, was a small deity of fire with mighty powers and a vision for a future he was determined to see. Riddle, is what the deity was called.
Riddle gained a number of followers to listen to his words, and he created order. A small feat compared to the many wicked still running about in a lawless land ruled by a god that valued anarchy. So, using newfound strength, the deity of fire drew forth molten lava from the mouths of the northern volcanos, burning all those in its path while the deadly plumes of smoke and ash suffocated those that remained. Atop the remains of the destroyed towns and cities, he built a new nation of order for his loyal followers.
Today, it is a thriving nation filled with flowers and greenery. However, there is one issue. The god of pyro, Riddle, is a tyrant. Every law is expected to be followed without question and without fail, beheadings have become nearly a daily occurrence with the criminals often being charged with mistakingly picking flowers on Wednesdays, drinking the wrong sort of tea post-meals, or playing croquet after five pm.
You were fortunate to be spared after your audience with the god of law, for breaking the rule: one must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Before he could burn you were you stood, you interjected, answering that your companion was no cat, so you had broken no rule.
Well, he promptly apologized for the misunderstanding and in turn, offered to make up for it by inviting you to a tea party. It would be best to except his invitation, afterall, he was the same deity that buried nearly an entire country in lava and ash, then built his kingdom atop their remains. He was a tyrant that beheaded and burned people on the daily. It was wise not to get on his bad side. Besides, he appears to have taken a fancy for you. Riddle implores that you tell him more of your world while you ignore the whispers of rebellion.
There is no leaving Heartslabyul, not without the explicit permission from the god of law. The borders with their volcanoes burn any would-be invaders, allowing passage only to merchants and travelers who have received the pyro deity's blessing. Why would Riddle ever give you his blessing to see you go?
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Across the volcanoes and hot springs of the borders, the mountains turn green with dense jungles. Across the river lies the savanna where the world's most wondrous creatures run free. Times have been turbulent, the shaking ground was evidence of troubles with this nation's divine beings, or rather, now single divine being.
Earthquakes have always been a sign of something occurring either for a purpose or unintentionally by someone else. The harsher the quake, the greater the importance of the event. And not too long ago, a ginormous tremor shook the entire globe. Something of major importance had happened.
A god, an archon, the deity of intellect was the new sovereign after tragedy befell his elder brother.
In the past the land was under the protection of the god of strength, a mighty god worshipped by his people. This god had a young heir who was also beloved by the people. However, most forgot or completely disliked the younger brother of the god of strength, a deity of ground, Leona, who had a burning hated for his brother.
Leona amassed followers of his own in secret. It came as no surprise that the common and the wealthy adored the exalted god of strength. However, the poor detested him, because he offered no help to them, no matter how much they prayed and offered what little they had to his alter. Instead, their prayers for mercy and for a change in luck, were answered by the deity of ground. The change of luck came from the death of the former god and his son, paving the way for a new sovereign.
Today, there is uncertainty in the street. Many of the former worshippers of the god of strength believe in one thing. The god of geo, Leona, is unfit to rule. The poor and mistreated have emerged from hiding places in the shadows, filled with newfound confidence for their was finally a god that answered their prayers. However, there remains a growing tension between both factions. Followers of the new god sing his praises, while followers who mourn for his brother believe that everything is falling into disarray.
You were promptly introduced to the god of intellect by his followers that wished to spread the good word. There was something wrong, you and your companion both agreed. How could a powerful god of strength and his young heir just perish without warning? Something was amiss.
This was just a new follower, at least in his eyes. So he brushed you off, allowing you to partake in the best food and drink only his followers had the privilege of receiving. Testing your luck, you decided you would ask him if he knew of a way home. For now you filled him in, explaining your origins and recent adventures. For such a conniving and arrogant leader, he was surprisingly lax. It even appeared as if he wasn't even listening to your words, just dozing off on some pillows. Your words were at least more interesting to him than the rumors of possible unrest.
Perhaps he does know a way for you to return home, but he doesn't want to tell you. It's as simple as that. He likes the new follower, you. Besides, you're not going. There is always the option of traveling further, but why do so when the geo deity has what you need? Leona greatly loathes betrayal from his own worshippers, so you wouldn't leave Savanaclaw to see another god, would you?
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In the seas dwell creatures of unimaginable horrors living deep within the watery depths, across the ocean over turbulent waves there are islands of paradise. The chain of islands composed warm southern beaches and cold northern snowlands. This may be paradise, but a toll must be paid to even get near the islands.
A tax is applied to all arriving merchants wishing to trade and tourists wishing to step foot on the island. It doesn't make much sense, until you see their towns and cities bursting with trade. Business was booming, apparently. The water is clear and pristine, you could see the vibrant coral reefs and schools of fish swimming below.
A god, an archon, the deity of contracts once came from these very waters when there was no land.
Thousands of years ago there was nothing but ocean out this far away from the mainland. That is, until a deity of water appeared from the depths. He promised a new nation to traveling merchants, so long as they worshipped him. The deity introduced himself as Azul.
Azul had grown bored of the dull happenings under the sea, for he had achieved most things beneath the waves. The ocean could not satisfy his endless greed. He had his sights set on higher elevation, with the lofty goal of being just as powerful on land as he was in the ocean. He moved waves, creating tsunamis outward but revealing islands once hidden by water. The merchants took to land and fulfilled their end of the deal, worshipping him while creating a prosperous nation of deals.
In present day, hardly anyplace can compare to the thriving hub the nation has become. However, loyal followers have begun to see his greed. The god of hydro, Azul, is a charlatan. The ocean in all its vastness was not enough to satisfy his desires, it was why he took to land. For the promise of fulfilling prayers, something always must be given in turn or the worshippers must risk going on a quest. But, it is not always as it seems. One way or another, a prayer asking for something will end in the worshipper becoming in debt to him.
In exchange for an answer to the continued question of how to return home, you have nothing to offer for payment except for ideas. Home was modern, this world was not yet on par with the technology you knew. So you offer ideas of inventions, a device to capture an image in time, a mechanism like a box with wheels, a tool to contact someone miles away.
He believes you're quite bright, you think it false flattery to deceive you but you would be wrong. Your ideas are truly brilliant, and will no doubt earn him more millions and influence in other nations on the mainland! Best to take the compliment with a smile, or else this swindler may find a way to trap you in debt. Azul insists you tell him more of your home and your lucrative ideas. Here, a contract, where he shall sell your ideas as goods and you shall reap the rewards! Whatever hearsay you've heard painting him in a bad light, is defamation! Don't fall for it so easily.
Sailing away from Octavinelle would just be a fool's quest. Unless you can escape on a boat that can weather the harshest of sea storms, there is no stepping foot off the island without the risk of drowning. Don't you have more profitable ideas to share with the hydro deity? If not, just listening to your voice would make Azul content than all the gold in the world could.
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Rolling sand dunes stretch as far as the eye could see, and rocky canyons border a savanna. Sandstorms fill the skies like a dark cloud, covering the dry hot land in a new layer of sand once again. Struggle through the scorching days and blistering cold nights, and there will be an oasis in the center between large flowing rivers.
Life follows the flowing waters, and an enormous oasis is planted in the center of the desert. For miles and miles along the banks, are blooming cities and towns. A great contrast to the desert outside, these settlements are overflowing with water, with the greenest gardens and greatest crops.
A god, an archon, the deity of commerce that gave life to a once barren land.
Thousands of years ago, a terrible famine struck the land. All remaining oasis had shriveled up, leading to starvation. A kind-hearted deity of earth took pity on the people. So he decided to extend a helping hand. People would call the deity Kalim.
Kalim used his abilities to create a lush environment, a vast and incredibly rich oasis out of sand in the middle of the desert. When he walked, grass and flowers sprouted from the sand. In days, he managed to create a garden of tremendous size and design, where his new followers could live in peace and luxury by the rivers. Towns and cities were developed, giving way to a grand nation where he resided in comfort and extravagance, surrounded by people that adored him.
Now there is a grand metropolis where there is just as much gold in the markets as there are flowers. The god of dendro, Kalim, is naive. For thousands of years he has been sheltered and treasured by his people. He is oblivious and clumsy, but at the same time he is not foolish. He knows of the people that have attempted to use his abilities for sinister purposes. Although, no one could guess a conniving being plotting against him, resides in his very own palace.
Exciting adventures and thrilling tales, the god of commerce loves to hear your stories of the outside world! First time foreigners are welcomed with open arms, but you are treated as a rare guest with your unique origin. This might just be the most peaceful land you had ever traveled to.
Come, partake in the celebrations! It's easy to forget that such a laidback and cheerful personality belongs to that of a deity that gave life to this region of the desert. Dance, chat, he wishes to do it all with you! The brightness of the fireworks and lively atmosphere is nearly enough to drown out the presence in the shadows you see from the corner of your eyes. A figure with a piercing gaze, watching the jolly divine being with envy in their eyes. With a power as tempting as his, there would be those wishing to snatch it. Kalim distracts you, offering more food and drink with a smile sweeter than any flower.
Why would anyone ever wish to leave this garden that was Scarabia? The outside, the desert and canyons, were harsh and unforgiving. The god of commerce did not wish to see you risk traveling and getting hurt. The dendro deity invites you to stay in the city! Surely you could be happy here with Kalim, right?
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On elevated lands, between mountains and hills, were endless forests in which travelers often vanished in or were discovered frozen. A winter wonderland, although this wasn't so delightful. It was beautiful, but a deadly kind of beautiful, where you risked being chased by mysterious beasts or becoming lost in blizzards.
The snow may be pure, it may look picturesque upon frozen lakes and lines of white trees, but looks are deceiving. This was once a serene land with a temperate climate, but it has only gotten colder and colder in more recent months until there was not a single spot of green to be seen.
A god, an archon, the deity of curses who was so bitter like the cold that he caused snow to fall all year round.
Stories have told that the land was once warm in springs and summers, only growing cold whenever the divine being was cross. They were frighteningly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful, regal as royalty but at times wrathful. Vil, is what the deity was referred to.
Vil became envious of an emerging figure, so he invoked powerful blizzards and storms. In recent generations, there have been a growing number of his people breaking off into a separate faction that worshipped a younger compassionate god of healing. Enraged by the betrayal of some followers and resentful with biting jealously, many knew that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. This frightening divine being would not accept being dethroned, he would not allow himself to be demoted in the people's hearts.
Civilization continued to thrive, even despite the never-ending snow. And yet, people cannot help but worry what may happen if the cold doesn't let up by spring. The god of cryo, Vil, was pretentious. Anyone who openly voices their distaste for him or a preference for the god of healing, can expect to be encased in ice and used as a display. No one dares to even utter the name of his rival, for fear of incurring his wrath.
Misfortune brought you before the god of curses' throne. Mistakingly his followers had believed you to be worshippers of the god of healing, which you insisted not to know of. You had simply been lost. Maybe it was your gawking at his ethereal appearance, or the compliment you murmured under your breath, but you were not frozen a punishment.
He decided to interrogate you himself, and through his stern questioning you found yourself a nervous mess as you answered honestly but blabbered far too much. Maybe this deity was amused, much like a king would find humor in a pathetic little jester. The divinity that froze nonbelievers into statues for his palace, found you quite endearing. Vil even once smiled at you when you spoke of inconsequential things, warming his heart to which the clouds carrying snow broke apart if for a moment, causing his followers to go into a frenzy fueled by hope.
When leaving Pomefiore is so much as even mentioned, all exits will be frozen shut by the god of curses. Why even venture outside the palace, when you have earned the favor of the cryo deity? Perhaps the land is warmer, but the neighboring nation is dangerous and he forbids the journey. Why would anyone leave after finally melting Vil's icy cold heart?
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A forest of dead trees serves as an ominous welcome, or perhaps it was an omen warning incoming travelers. Slopes gave way to valleys, and along the coasts was a heavy mist that painted the vision gray. Homes and buildings, magnificent temples and crumbling feats of architecture, appeared to be floating in white clouds, but in reality they were situated on cliffsides thick with fog.
In the center of the dying forest, there are ruins of a grand temple once belonging to a god that met a tragic end. However, its remnants are closely guarded by mysterious creatures of air that cannot be touched. Legends say the temple was once a place of worship for a fledgling god related to the main god the nation worships today.
A god, an archon, the deity of innovation that has never once shown his face to the public.
Thousands of years ago, a pair of divine beings appeared. They went largely unnoticed for many years, until their brilliant inventions brought awe to those around them, attracting worshippers and diminishing the power of other local gods. The one remaining brother from this pair, is a deity known as Idia.
Idia created wondrous inventions, unintentionally forming a nation of inventors in the process. Withdrawn, dark, and silent, he is quite the unconventional god and yet he begrudgingly rules nonetheless. As reserved as he may be, he is feared among divinity. All lesser gods aiming for his spot are quickly wiped out by his inventions, without him so much as lifting a finger and using his own abilities. They're reduced to mere memories, as nothing is left of them. In times of old, it was once believed that he was a harbinger of death.
On decent days, the sun may shine on the coast, but most days there are heavy clouds and fog. The god of anemo, Idia, is an enigma. Most think him a ghost, for never appearing and for his abilities. The highest families, the most brilliant inventors, even other divine beings may request an audience, but he will never show. No one has ever seen him, all that's known is he is a figure shrouded in black robes like a grim reaper. There are others who believe there are double, because two figures have been spotted once.
You become the first to see his face purely by accident. It seemed he was just as startled of you, as you were of him. Thankfully, you were not going to be blown off the face of the planet by hurricane-level winds. No other god would help, in fact, they wished to keep you here. So you had to turn to him for assistance in finding a way home.
It was only by promising that he could pet Grim, a deal to which the feline disagreed to, did the god reluctantly hear you out. After your explanation, he scoffed as if looking at a simple equation like 2 + 2. Of course he knew the answer, but he wouldn't give out the assistance you needed. The deal was to hear you out, not help you out. He'd become quite bold in the private conversation, a sharp contrast to his previous anxious demeanor. There was no arguing against he who could slaughter gods with a snap of his fingers. Although you aren't as intolerable as other mortals, this he admits.
Departing from Ignihyde is highly unlikely, given how dense the fog is. You cannot even see the ground you're walking on. While, yes, the anemo deity hasn't assisted you, he will, eventually, probably, maybe... You're the first mortal Idia has ever asked to stay, so why would you turn your back to him?
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A wall of impenetrable thorns stands in the way, magically opening and creating a clear-cut path through dense forbidding forests lively with critters. The thorn walls close, effectively trapping you. There was something different. It was unlike all the previous nations, the very air itself felt off. With every step deeper into these whimsical woods, it felt as if you were not alone.
Once upon a time, there was a dragon. No one knows how long the dragon has been alive, only that even the oldest tales say he was already ancient way back when. Valleys were shaped by his claws, the rivers from his tail, rare ore came from his fallen scales buried in the earth, the tallest mountains were but small hills to him.
A god, an archon, the deity of dreams is by far the most powerful and most ancient of all divinity in the world.
Peace was his personal preference, as he enjoyed new company which he never truly received due to his fearsome reputation. However, when other divinity sought out his destruction and his home, the deity of electricity raged. Destruction was left in his wake across the entire globe, and everyone came to know the name Malleus.
Malleus commanded thorns to be raised like walls protecting his home, and constant violent storms to ward off anyone threatening to cause trouble. For hundreds of years, no foreigner was allowed to step foot within the nation's boundaries. Anyone that tried would quickly be reduced to ash, and just a number added to the untold amount he's slayed in order to protect himself and his territory. Kind he may be to his own, but to foes he is merciless. With his black horns and piercing eyes, some refer to him as a devil incarnate.
A land unseen by outlanders, it's peaceful and magical in it's beauty. However, it seems that while your presence may be surprising, it is not a shock. You're taken by knights in gray and black, escorted away. The god of electro, Malleus, has invited you to his castle. There is astonishment and disbelief in people's eyes, a foreigner alive and well. Most like you would have been reduced to particles before they could even step foot past the thorns.
Much to your horror, or relief, once you're brought to the god of dreams, he seems delighted to have you here. It seems your presence was expected, as all he said was, "So you've finally come to see me, hm? I was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps I would have been left out of your list of destinations."
This was the last option, the only one you could turn to in finding a way home. Surely, the most ancient and powerful deity would hold the answer and assist you, since he had been so kind as to allow you inside his nation. Although as welcoming as he may be, you must remember that despite his fang-toothed smile and the twinkle in his eyes, this man– no, god, was archaic and all-powerful. He must have killed more people than you will ever know, wiped out whole armies and flattened entire nations. Malleus tilts his head at you, requesting that you recount your tale, with every minute detail.
This will be the end, there will be no escaping Diasomnia. Of course, you shall not know until later. For now, the god of dreams delights in your stories. You were the first guest he's had in thousands of years, and one of the few who did not wish to slay the legendary dragon that was the electro deity. Malleus knows what you desire, he has seen it in your dreams. However, he will not be kind and grant you what you sought. If he did, then what he desired would then vanish: you.
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selfishdoll · 4 months
❛you wanted this, right?...❜ ━━ ft. ghostface! gojo & geto
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⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 SUMMARY. ━━ after disclosing a fantasy you had, your beloved boyfriends decided to make it happen. them in masks, you the victim, and you all inside a big mansion they rented out. an unfair game of cats and mouse seemed delightful, no?
⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING. ━━ everything is consensual & discussed beforehand | fear play | predator & prey play(? maybe), | ghostface mask | voice manipulation (they sound like ghostface | manhandling | rough sex | praise & degradation | oral sex (f & m receiving) | ooc characters (i’m not gege don’t clock me) | pet names (princess, sweetheart, pretty girl, minx, slut, etc) | spanking | minor choking (not really just holding your throat) | double p in v sex | fingering | multiple orgasms | orgasm denial | minor knife play | etc. if i forgot something let me know.
⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 NOTE. ━━ this took much longer then i wanted & went on much longer then i wanted 😭🙏🏾. as always please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.
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the anticipation swelling inside you was almost nauseating. your pretty manicured fingers digging into the little pleated skirt you wore. everything you wore was little; little white top, little denim skirt, and little pink thong. why? easy access.
you waited so impatiently for the car to stop, eyes peering between the seat and your phone, feeling your panties wetten as your thoughts swarmed with the events bound to transpire soon. to think your beloved boyfriends would actually make a disgusting fantasy of yours come true.
not without a little teasing of course.
“us, in ghostface masks?” gojo asked with a little grin, coming close to you. “you want us to chase and fuck you, huh?”
“and you’re letting us use knives, right?” geto asked next, a simper pulling his features. his eyes ran down your form, feeling excitement brew inside him.
it didn’t take much coaxing, given they were as freaky as you were. you three decided on a nice gothic mansion, four-story, furnished with several rooms. several hiding places.
whether for you or them.
next were the rules, establishing a perfect plan so everyone was comfortable. the knives used were only sharp enough for thin fabric, you had a word to say incase you got too scared, and also; you had an objective.
you would start at the top floor, your goal to get outside the house through the front. along the way however, your lovely boyfriends will be obstacles. but.. if you could guess correctly who was under the mask whilst they played with you, you were allowed to run and they had to stay put.
easy right? you think so. despite the fact one missup, and you lost. you had to be careful, calculated. sure of your decision before it exited your lips.
“miss, is this your stop?”
you quickly blinked out of your inappropriate thoughts, turning back and forth. you were sure this was the right place, an exact replica to what you saw online. with a sweet smile you thanked the uber driver, exiting the car and collecting your things; your phone and a flashlight. you didn’t need anything else.
shutting the door behind you, you headed up the grand walkway of the mansion; glancing at the pretty windows and rose shrubs standing tall outside. it was beautiful really, you wondered what it was used for before your perverted adventures.
grasping the door, which was unlocked, you entered the mansion and stepped into the dark foyer. you licked your lips nervously, shutting the door behind you. you quickly texted your lovers you were inside the house, knowing they were on the way.
satoru <3
we’re three mins away, sweetheart.
suguru <3
hurry up & find a hiding place, you don’t get a grace period.
you didn’t need to be told twice, flicking your flashlight on and rushing towards the stairs. you bounced with each step, ignoring the slight pain as you continued up them. you made it to the second floor when you heard the front door slam open and close, fear running through your body as you dashed across the hall to the next set of stairs, making it to the fourth floor.
your whipped around back and forth, searching for a perfect spot to wait out the next five mins. those were the intervals you were allowed to wait in one room, before you were expected to move. your eyes quickly settled on one second to the one at the end of the hall, rushing over and opening and closing the door.
you gripped your arms close, regaining your breath and sinking against the wall. you tried to calm down, tried to hear what was going on outside. had they made it to the fourth floor yet? maybe. but even so, you couldn’t hear a damned thing.
the ringing of your phone caused you to gasp, quickly pulling it from your chest to glance down at the bright unknown number, glaring at you. you hissed, accepting the call and placing it against your ear, whilst standing from your spot against the wall.
it was about three mins. you needed to find somewhere else to hide.
“what’s your favorite scary movie?”
you rolled your eyes, a little grin covering your face. “you’re so corny, baby.” you murmured, slowly opening the door and peeking out with your flashlight. luckily you didn’t see their large forms, allowing you to step out into the hall.
“you want the ghostface masks, you get the ghostface treatment, princess.”
“mhm. you’re only trying to get me to talk so you can find me.” you hummed, continuing down the hall to the next room, opening and shutting the door behind you.
the man released a soft cackle, his breath fanning against the receiver of the phone. “oh no, i’m not doing that. i already know where you are.”
you blinked a bit, whipping around in time to spot a large form burst out of the closet and head towards you. a delighted, yet fearful shriek escaped you as strong arms locked around your body. his gloved hand pressed against your mouth, bringing you against his form.
“too bad, we just started and i already caught you.” ghostface snickered against your ear, plastic mask rubbing against your hot skin. his hand dragged down, the warm fabric tracing your skin. “what should i do first? should i cut these useless clothes off? maybe i’ll wait for the other ghostface to get here.. end this game quickly—“
“satoru!” you shouted out, hearing the man click his tongue a bit. the strong arms released you, a triumphant giggle escaping you as you rushed out of the room without even looking back. you ran down the hall, ignoring the other rooms and heading down the stairs.
you didn’t know where geto was, and you didn’t care; you were making far too much noise for the man to ignore. you quickly entered a room, pulling the door open and shutting it behind you. your eyes peered around, regret entering you quickly.
it was a simple room, no closet, no bathroom— nothing. your only hiding spot.. was under the bed. so fucking cliche.
with some effort you got to your knees, sliding your self under the bed with even more effort. you pushed up, assuring your legs weren’t stick out like all those stupid movies and waited. you had five mins, only five and then you’d have to figure out where to go next.
getting yourself from under this bed was bound to take some time, so you planned to exit a little early.
that was until, you heard them. heavy footsteps, pressing against the floor from outside the room. you quickly slammed a hand against your mouth to cover the small whimper, shaking as you watched the door push open. the person entered, black boots coming into view as he shut the door behind him.
they stood motionless for a moment, your eyes closing as you tried to relax your racing heart. hopefully, hopefully they thought you were too smart to slide under the bed. that they would exit the room and maybe go to the next one.
your heart rung in your ears, palm squished against your mouth to cover your small pants. that was until, a strong hand curled around your bare ankle. you screeched as you were dragged out from under the bed, being flipped onto your back, right on the cold wood floor.
you whined a bit as you felt the cold steel glide across your thighs, rising to pull at your thin thong string. “under the bed? really?..” the man purred above you, raspy voice slightly muffled from the mask he wore. you whimpered as your panties were cut off, revealing your soft, wet cunt.
you attempted to shut your legs, only for ghostface to be much faster; blade rising to press against your neck. you knew it wasn’t sharp enough to cut, yet, the thought alone had you keening— arousal dripping down to your ass.
the man hummed a little, fingers tapping on the handle of the knife whilst his other hand traced your thigh, slapping the inside of it. a high pitched moan escaped you, eyes pinched closed as his gloved hand soothed the skin.
“such a minx, begging for us to fuck you in masks. bet all that running around and hiding got you so wet, huh—?” his own question was answered the moment his fingers glided across your slit, slick collected on his gloved hands. ghostface swore softly, two fingers pushing into your entrance with no restraint. he wasted no time in curling them, pushing against your velvety walls all while the knife remained against your throat.
your eyes found the back of your skull, nearly forgetting your goal. you were supposed to be guessing who this was, currently ruining you so easily with his fingers. thumb pressing against your hardened clit, circling it slowly. your sweet moans covered the room, thighs squeezing his strong forearm as little tears threatened to spill.
ghostface leaned closer, his pace quickening. “oh, gonna come already baby? you know what that means.. means we’ll win.” soft squelches covered the room, hissing at the way your gummy walls clenched around his digits. “come on, come on— guess pretty girl, guess—“
your mind raced as he coaxed you, struggling to keep your orgasm at bay. you knew if you got it wrong, you lost. if you came, you lost. you wanted, needed the game to go on just a while longer. a harsh whine escaped you, “suguru!” you finally huffed out, feeling his fingers instantly stop inside you.
“good girl.. though, i doubt you have much left in you to run.” he spoke, a clear smirk on his features despite you couldn’t see.
the man even helped you up, you rushing out the room the moment you were on your feet. suguru was slightly right, given how much you wobbled about; legs shaking as you carried yourself down the end of the hallway.
you didn’t want to get to the next floor yet, fearful gojo was waiting on you. it was so frustrating how well they worked together sometimes.
you opened the door, closing it behind you with a soft sigh. your head rested against the cool mahogany wood, heart racing as a little giggle escaped you. to think you were having so much fun being used as prey for your boyfriends. you were a sick freak, really.
you clicked your phone, glancing down at the time. four more minutes, and you’d have to move. though as excited as you were, you did find this little rest enjoyable. they weren’t going easy on you, keeping you on your toes at all times.
a soft breath escaped you as you rose from leaning against the door. clasping the knob, you turned it, opening slowly— revealing the man standing right behind it.
you screamed as he lunged forward, snatching you out of the room and closing the door. once done you were pressed right back against the wood, squeezed between it and his large form.
“you’re so easy to track, princess— gotta be a bit quieter..” ghostface teased, snaking a hand under your thin shirt to grasp your breasts. he tweaked your hard nipple between his thumb and middle finger, enjoying the pretty moans that escaped your throat. “look at that.. leaking all over this pretty mansion. such a mess.”
you cried out as his palm smacked against your bare ass, keening once his fingers plunged inside you. your legs shook, arched perfectly against the door as his hand move; flexing and scissoring his thick, long digits in and out of your messy cunt. a string of moans escaped your throat, his hand releasing your chest to glide up to your neck, holding it gently.
“fuck.. sucking my damn fingers, so much.” he mused, masked face focused on your pretty pussy. your walls clamped down, desperately trying to keep them inside with each thrust he delivered. ghostface could feel himself growing harder and harder under his slacks, having half a mind to end the game right then and there.
“messy fucking pussy.. go ahead and come, pretty girl. you want to don’t you?— so greedy for our dicks, bet you can’t wait for the game to end.”
you furiously shook your head, eyes pinched as you clenched and clenched; struggling to hold back your orgasm. with the way he was fingerfucking you, you were sure the restraint would dissipate quickly, racking your mind. satoru or suguru? satoru or suguru? satoru or suguru?
“fu—fuck, satoru!” you cried out just when your peak nearly hit, hearing the man swear but release you. you breathed heavily, feeling him step away to give you space.
“tired, baby?” satoru said in a mocking coo, watching in delight as you lifted your body off the door.
without think you flashed your boyfriend the finger, collecting the scraps of your dignity and rushing down the hall and down the steps. you didn’t know if you could last much longer— no there was no way you could.
you felt way too damn good to even distinguish between the two anymore, mind melting away as they fucked you to ecstasy with just their fingers. you hated them so much, for how easily they played with your body.
you made it to the second to last floor, tempted to just take the final stretch, but deciding not to. you turned towards a door, rushing to open it and close it behind you. a bathroom. perfect.
no where to hide but the damn tub.
with a little grimace you pulled the shower curtains back, happy to not see one of your cloaked and masked boyfriends waiting patiently for you. you stepped inside, pulling the curtains closed once you were done. you leaned back against the white tiles, sighing softly as you closed your eyes.
these little moments of peace was so bittersweet, knowing they were short lived. your lovers were much faster then you, you were sure they were on this floor already.. waiting and searching.
you glanced down at your phone, a little surprised either of them hadn’t tried to call you again. it nearly made you giggle if it wasn’t for the heavy footsteps you heard passing by the bathroom. you hissed softly, quickly covering your mouth and pressing against the wall.
your heart beat harshly, hearing doors open, footsteps, doors slam shut, and more footsteps. you didn’t know if it was only one of them on the floor or both, unfortunately.
as the footsteps closed in on outside your door, your heart rate increased; ringing in your ears and nearly whimpering the moment the door opened slowly.
whoever it was stepped into the small space, standing and looking around. the only thing between the two of you being the decorative shower curtains.
more agonizing moments passed before you heard a soft sigh, hearing a footstep towards the door and it opening and shutting shortly after. your hand slowly fell, feeling your lips curl into a little smile.
so silly, you thought to yourself, fingers curling around the curtain. they didn’t even check the tu—
“your hiding places suck, pretty girl.” ghostface chuckled, snatching you out of the tub right as you gave a fearful yelp. the man easily turned your positions, pushing you to lean against the sink, pressed up behind you. a hand came to curl in your pretty dark braids, grabbing a handful and lifting your head.
the moment your eyes landed on your face in the mirror you glanced away, whining as you felt his other fingers gently pinch your clit. “no, no.. no looking away. watch yourself as i fuck you with my fingers, sweetheart.” three fingers easily slid inside your sweet cunt, instantly clamping around the digits.
you reached back, hand gripping his wrist as he fingerfucked you, the other hand steady in your scalp. you watched as your lips parted, moans escaping and eyebrows pushing together; all while your masked boyfriend stood behind you, arm moving with each thrust he gave you.
it was such a sight, making you even wetter by the second, arousal dripping down your thighs. you whimpered as his fingers curled, legs shaking as heavy pants escaped you.
“oh, is this the last round?” the man behind the mask mocked, feeling your pretty walls clench and clench. “you had such big talk, claiming you would get out before we caught you.. was that all it was— talk?” he angled his fingers, pushing against the spot inside you that caused stars to collect in your vision.
“mmm— fuck, fuck!” you cried out, nails digging into his wrist as your head leaned against the mirror. “it— its ah— suguru!” you felt triumphant the moment his fingers were removed, gently letting go of your hair.
before you could think you were rushing out of the bathroom, chubby thighs carrying you down the stairs to the final floor. you gasped out, looking back and forth, and feeling your blood run cold the moment you spotted a large form standing at the entrance of the mansion, waiting ever so patiently.
you moved to run, making it about two feet away before your were snatched from the ground, arms tight around your waist. you huffed softly, kicking for a moment as a sharp, “satoru!” escaped you.
instead of being released, you heard soft chuckles. your eyebrows pinched close, attempting to move away. “don’t cheat, satoru!”
“oh, i’m not satoru, princess.”
your eyes went wide, whipping around to watch the man tug his mask off. and much to your dismay, suguru stood in all his glory, eyes gleaming with excitement as he took in your withering form. “looks like you lost..” his tone was sing-songy, tossing the mask to the side.
“but.. but i thought i w—“
“won?” another voice cut in, watching as the other ghostface; satoru walked down the steps, approaching the two of you. he was close within minutes, sandwiching you between himself and suguru. “no.. you guessed wrong in the bathroom. i just felt so bad about you losing, i let you slip away.” his gloved fingers found your cheeks, a sick simper covering his features.
your breath hitched as you felt strong hands grip your thinly covered body, suguru’s face falling to your neck. “means we get our reward, right?”
you whined in defeat as they snatched you away from the foyer, carrying you towards a room— a bedroom. placing you on the bed, suguru moved first, pushing you to lay out across the blankets. revealing his knife, the man slid it up your simple white shirt, cutting it open and revealing your bare chest.
the cold air licked against your skin, feeling the bed sink in as satoru crawled on; face lowering to your chest. his lips clamped around your hard nipple, sucking and gently biting it. your fingers found his brightly colored hair, the pleasure covering your sensitive body.
you gasped as the cool metal carried down from the valley between your breasts, to your stomach, and finally your skirt. geto, effortlessly, slid the sharp point under the fabric, cutting it off.
“suguru!” you huffed, watching him toss the ruined garment to the side, knife following. said man only grinned, hand finding the inside of your thigh.
“don’t worry.. i’ll buy another one for next time.”
you weren’t given much time to dwell on his words before his fingers glided across your slit, the man watching in enjoyment at you flincing from the simple touch. “practically drooling, pretty girl.. fuck.” he drawled, fingers collected your slick, rubbing it further across your slit.
you clenched onto your boyfriends, head rested back against the blankets as whimpers escaped you. “please, please..”
satoru popped off your nipple with a small chuckle, fingers replacing to tweak at the wet bud. “mhm.. you can wait, right baby? had us waiting for so long, playing your little game. it’s only fair.”
you whined once again, causing another chuckle to escape your lovers. whilst satoru grabbed your chin and captured your lips, suguru’s fingers pushed inside you, wasting no time in curling and fucking you. they no longer had to hold back to give you a chance to run, you were stranded, right where they wanted you.
your fingers clung to satoru, all while your hips moved, angling to glide your swollen clit against suguru’s palm. you cried at as he curled the digits up against your sweet spot, angling just perfect to continuously thrust there. given how much you were holding back this evening, it was no surprise your end was approaching quickly; eyes closed shut as gasps and moans entered satoru’s mouth.
he pulled away, fingers rising to your cheeks to grip, taking in your expression with a soft swear. “so fucking close aren’t you baby? making such a mess on suguru’s fingers— greedy slut.”
“hah— did you seriously clench from that, (y/n)?” suguru’s words came next, your mind flooded with pleasure and far too fucked out to acknowledge their teasing. your thighs shook, trapping the dark-haired man’s forearm between them as you fisted satoru’s hair.
a drawn out moan escaped you, creaming all over his hand, arousal dribbling all the way down to your taint and the sheets.
the praises that fell from their lips caused your head to feel light, barely registering suguru removing his fingers. you regained your breath, sitting up when you realized the two had stepped off the bed.
you watched in excitement as they fiddled with their slacks, pushing them off with their boxers soon following. your thighs twitched, little hole clenching around nothing as anticipation collected in your tummy.
suguru moved close, gently grabbing your cheeks and leading you onto your knees on the bed. satoru moved behind you, pushing you into a little arch, hands massaging your ass.
you whined as his thumb pushed into your mouth, laying on the flat of your tongue. suguru watched as your lips wrapped around the digit, sucking it slowly. he didn’t let it go on for long before he was pulling it out with a soft pop, smearing your saliva across your pretty lips. “think you could put that pretty mouth to good use, princess?” he grinned, moving close and pressing the tip of his cock against your lips.
you attempted to wrap your lips around it, only for the man to pull back, hand falling to your chin. “so fucking greedy..” suguru hissed, instructing you to poke out your tongue. you obeyed easily, whining the moment you felt satoru’s hands large hands grip your ass, nearly turning to look back if it wasn’t for suguru’s hold tightening.
“nuh uh— eyes on me, beautiful. you don’t get to see satoru right now.” he groaned, slapping his tip against your waiting muscle. the soft plaps echoed in the room, all while you felt satoru’s fluffy hair glide across the curve of your ass.
at the same time satoru’s lick tongue slid into your entrance and suguru thrusted into your mouth.
you moaned around his length, eyes rolling back as satoru wasted no time in feasting away. hands gripping you tightly, keeping you arched right there as his tongue dragging across your walls, lapping and enjoying each drop that came from you.
your attention kept being knocked back and forth; suguru dragging his hips back as his hand found your hair, slowly, carefully setting a pace inside your wet mouth. your cheeks hollowed, glossy eyes peering up at the man as he fucked your mouth. suguru groaned at the sight, swearing as his pace quickened, pulling you flush so your nose brushed his stomach.
within minutes his tip was hitting the back of your throat, heavy, full balls slapping against your chin. you could only shake and take it, gripping the sheets under you all while satoru’s tongue never stopped inside you.
licking you up, mixing your arousal and his saliva, only to pull back and spit it right back against your messy pussy in a soft ptuh. slurping it all up, dragging his tongue between your folds.
“wanted this so bad didn’t you, (y/n)? you wanted us to win, to fuck you just like this.” suguru huffed, stuttering between each thrust inside your throat.
you squealed as a large hand slammed against your ass, fingers massaging the raw skin. “he asked you a question, princess— or is your mouth too full to respond?” satoru cackled right into your pussy, hand slithering to your entrance to push two fingers inside, all while he licked your clit raw.
you moaned around suguru’s cock, the man’s eyes rolling back from the vibrations, twitching as his peak got closer and closer. your jaw hurt, center was sore, and your palms ached from how much you were gripping the sheets. but you didn’t care— not one bit.
suguru delivered a few more thrusts into your mouth before his hips stuttered, coming deep in your throat. you moaned around him, your own orgasm peaking— making a mess on satoru’s face.
the man infront of you panted softly, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and slowly pulling out; pressing the tip against your lips. your licked off the rest of his come, swallowing to which a soft good girl, escaped him, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss.
your lips moved slowly, feeling satoru leave the bed and soon you; being lifted easily by the two of them. like before they sandwiched you between them, your legs wrapping around suguru whilst satoru held your thighs.
pulling back from the kiss you tried to regain your breath, the action short lived as satoru planted his lips onto your own; stealing it right back away. your gripped suguru’s shoulders tightly, whining as you felt satoru slowly pushing his heavy length inside.
the man pulled back to grunt, fingers sinking into your plush skin as he continued to thrust in. “look at that, sucking me in so easily.” satoru teased, the pair chuckling at the whine that escaped you.
he was halfway before suguru came even closer, grasping the back of your knees and slowly, pushing in— right in the same hole. your head knocked back against satoru’s shoulder, lips parted as a silent cry escaped you.
you felt like you were being split open, arousal gushing and coating their lengths as they pushed inside you. you whimpered, never growing used to this stretch no matter how wet you were. “fuck.. oh fuck, suguru, satoru—!”
“i know, baby, i know..”
“splitting so pretty for us, sweetheart— taking us so well.”
their praises made your head feel light, finally breathing the moment their hips stilled. as desperate as they were to move they waited, knowing you were tired and possibly sore. suguru rubbed your legs carefully whilst satoru kissed the side of your face, whispering sweet words into your ear.
moments passed before your breathing settled, the men taking this as a signal to pull their hips back until only their tips were inside. with a harsh thrust, the three of you were moaning— the two men wasting no time in setting out a pace.
one that worked in rhythm, cocks driving in you and out of you at perfect tandem without a care for your well-being. your high pitched moans covered the room, gripping to your boyfriends tight as your legs shook.
“fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out, tears trickling down your brown cheeks, feeling yourself gush all over their lengths. unfortunately they didn’t let up, fucking you through your orgasm— ignoring your desperate pleas to slow down.
suguru leaned close, lips attaching to your neck as his fingers dug into your skin. “you really think we’re gonna slow down after waiting for so long, princess?” he questioned with a simper, teeth sinking into your skin just to hear you cry out.
satoru grinned, hand rising to gently wrap around your throat, the vibrations of your voice pressed against his fingers. his cheek brushed your own wet one, softly mocking your moans as his hips never stopped their harsh thrusts. “you don’t want us to slow down any, do you? such a fucking mess..”
you reached up, clinging to his wrist as each drive in and out of your messy cunt rendered your brain to mush; ruining you. your words became incoherent, fingers curling with your thighs wrapped tight around suguru. the pair enjoyed it all, each twitch, cry, moan— the way those pretty fucking eyes rolled to the back of your skull; it was no surprise their own orgasms were creeping up on them, fast.
“feel so fucking good, sweetheart.. so fucking good, keep making a mess of us.”
“gonna come again aren’t you? yeah, we can tell— clenching so damn tight— fuck..”
throat raw, breath ragged, and your voice pitched; you shrieked as your orgasm hit you like a truck, spraying all over their cocks.
their eyes widened at this, gaze locking and making a mental note to somehow get you to squirt again. for now their thrusts stuttered, becoming sloppy and desperate as their cocks twitched inside.
suguru was first, shoving himself deep and pumping you full of his come— satoru following shortly after with a deep groan.
the three of you simply panted, standing in the middle of the room for a moment before leading you towards the bed; where you laid down in a messy heap.
you whimpered as they pulled out of you, feeling their combined releases trickling from your entrance and to the bed. you warmed however the moment their hands caressed your body, kissing where they previously gripped, spanked, or bit.
“i should have asked for this a long time ago.” you murmured sleepily, hearing your lovers chuckle softly.
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