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yunniverse · 12 days

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My Home

౨ৎ PAIRING— jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— angst, fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— little bit of angst, mostly fluff, yunho is a soft boy

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 3.6k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— it isn’t no way home. it’s one way home, and that way is yunho.

౨ৎ A/N— i just love yunho so much :( feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, loves!!

You walk into your apartment, kicking off your shoes and placing your purse in one of the chairs at your kitchen counter. When you finally take a seat on your couch, sighing in relief at the feeling of finally getting to sit down after a lot of standing today at work. Suddenly, your phone buzzes, and you frown, grabbing it from beside you to look at it. —Excited for tonight!! It’s my turn to pick a movie ;) “Oh shoot!” you exclaim, jumping up as soon as you read the text, throwing the phone down and hurrying to get ready for a shower. Yunho can’t come over seeing you like this, even though he’s your boyfriend and he’s told you before not to worry about your appearance around him. You still like to feel good about yourself, though, as much as you can. After grabbing a change of clothes, you head into the bathroom to hop into the shower, hoping you’ll have enough time to finish before Yunho arrives, not to mention you still have to make dinner. Although, you might be able to convince him takeout is a good option to tonight. You find yourself lost in thought about the best way to convince him, when you hear your front door open. Your eyes widen as you turn the water off, rushing to dry off and change clothes. It obviously isn’t the first time Yunho has let himself in, in fact he does it quite often, but you’re usually a little more prepared. Leaving the bathroom once you feel presentable, you walk out of your bedroom and into the living room, looking around for your boyfriend. Suddenly, you feel someone place their hands over your eyes, laughing. “Guess who?”

You smile once you’re over the initial jumpscare, “Oh, I don’t know… Maybe my boyfriend who’s trying to give his girlfriend a heart attack?” “You barely flinched,” Yunho laughs, shaking his head as he spins you around, engulfing you in a hug, slightly lifting you off the ground. “Yunho!” you scold playfully, laughing once he puts you back on the ground. When you regain your balance, you look up at him, taking in his appearance today. His soft, chocolate brown hair frames his face, and he’d chosen a white, short-sleeved sweater, a choker necklace with the tiniest pearls all around it, finished off with black jeans. “You look like you’re going to an office or something,” you comment, quirking an eyebrow. “Not a comfy movie night.” “Sorry,” he pouts, his brown eyes softening, looking very puppy-like. “I just came from a meeting straight here.” “Don’t apologize,” you smile up at him. “You look really good, just not comfortable.” “It’s the jeans, right?” Yunho comments as you move around him to enter the kitchen, on a secret mission for your takeout menus. “I really need to ask if I can start wearing sweatpants to the meetings.” “Hm,” you hum, digging through your menu drawer. “Isn’t that the drawer of menus?” Yunho asks, taking a seat in one of your swivel chairs at the counter, watching you. “Yeah,” you look up at him sheepishly. “But babyyy,” Yunho’s shoulders slump as he whines. “You said you’d teach me to cook something today.” “I know, I know,” you step around the counter to him, wrapping your arms around his middle from behind, your chin resting against his shoulderblade as he leans against the counter on his elbows. “But we can do that next time, can’t we?” He turns around to face you, the small pout still visible on his lips, “You said that last time.” “I’m just really tired today,” you sigh, lowering you head for a moment before meeting Yunho’s gaze again. “We can order your favorite.” He pauses, thinking, “Alright, I guess. But next time?” “Thank you, thank you!” you beam up at him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in a tight, quick hug. “And yes, of course.” “I’ll hold you to it for real this time,” Yunho warns, making you nod quickly, overjoyed that he agreed so quickly.

When you try to remove yourself from his grip, he stops you, giving you another small pout. “No kisses?” “Huh?” you question, slightly taken aback by his boldness. “I’ve waited all day for kisses and cuddles, and I haven’t gotten any yet,” Yunho responds, giving you his puppy eyes that always make you fold. “Hm,” you pretend to think, but ultimately smile, leaning in closer to give him a soft, quick kiss, which tastes a little different this time, but a good different. “Are you wearing the peach chapstick I gave you?” “Yeah,” he breathes, looking a little shy. “I like it.” “So do I,” you grin cheekily, making him roll his eyes playfully before tickling your sides a little, making you squeal, giggling. “What do you wanna order?” Yunho asks once you’ve calmed down. “I said we’d order your favorite,” you raise an eyebrow at him. “So we’re ordering your favorite.” “We don’t actually have to, love,” he responds. “You’ve had a long day, and I’d like to make you happy.” “You’re too sweet sometimes, Yuyu,” you feel a swell of happiness in your chest at his care for you. “But I honestly just want to eat whatever you want.” “Honest?” Yunho asks, making sure. “Honest,” you nod, sticking your pinky out, something you both do to prove to each other that you’re telling the complete truth. He grins, linking his pinky with yours before lifting your joined pinkies to his lips, pressing a kiss to your finger with a wink that makes you swoon. “I’ll order, then,” he grabs his phone, getting ready to call. As he orders the food, you walk over to the living room, pulling out the plush, light blue blanket you usually use for movie nights. Yunho walks over to you once he finishes the call, laughing as he engulfs you in a hug from behind. “Yuyu!” you complain as he rests some of his weight against you. “Why are you being so cuddly today?” “You say that like I don’t do this every time we’re together,” Yunho scoffs, squeezing you once more before he releases you, plopping down onto the couch. “I just felt like mentioning it today,” you shrug, smirking as you plop down onto his lap with no warning. “Oof!” he grunts at the impact, shooting you a playful glare as he digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you until you give in, moving away from him to lay on the couch. “Yunhooo,” you whine after a few moments of him paying attention to the game show on the TV. He glances over at you to see your pout as you make grabby hands toward him. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, tilting his head to the side in question, resembling a puppy yet again.

“I want cuddles,” you respond with pleading eyes. “The food will be here soon,” Yunho counters, and you know he has a point, but he looks so fluffy with his fluffy brown hair and soft gaze. You can’t help wanting to have him to yourself for cuddles. “After we eat we can cuddle,” Yunho tells you, reaching for his phone to check his notifications. With a disappointed sigh, you look up at the ceiling, letting your arms drop onto your stomach. After a few minutes of silence, you look back over at him, perching yourself up on your elbows. “Your hair looks so soft.” He looks up from his phone to meet your gaze with a shy smile, “Thank you.” “I love your natural color hair,” you continue. “I’m glad it isn’t dyed right now.” “Yeah, I’m happy it isn’t dyed, too,” Yunho nods, agreeing. “I wanna touch it,” you immediately resort to puppy eyes, even though you already know he told you no to cuddles right now. “I know,” he responds cheekily, sticking his tongue out at you. “Rude,” you gasp. “Especially coming from someone who’s gonna pick Spiderman again tonight.” “Spiderman movies are good,” Yunho protests. “You look like Peter Parker with your natural hair,” you point out, making him scoff. “I’m not that good looking,” he responds, shaking his head. You toss a throw pillow at him, “Liar!” He laughs, tossing it back at you just as someone knocks on the door. Yunho jumps up to go get the food as you sit up, stretching. “It’s here!” he exclaims once he pays the delivery person. “Ready to eat?” After about an hour, you and Yunho finally make your way back to the couch, where you get settled to watch the movie. You’re about fifteen minutes into the action when Yunho shifts, his arm moving to rest around your shoulders, coaxing you to rest yours against his chest. His other hand finds yours under the blanket, interlacing your fingers with his. You pull his hand into your lap, glancing up at him with a small, sleepy grin, “I love you.” “I love you too, sunshine,” Yunho responds, pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head. “I needed this,” you admit after a few moments, biting your lip as you absentmindedly play with Yunho’s fingers under the blanket. “You did?” he asks, looking down at you with curiosity. “Yeah,” you breathe. “I had a long day at work.”

“What happened?” Yunho asks, noticing your sudden shift in mood. “I just…” you trail off, your chin quivering slightly. “Everyone kept telling me I was doing everything wrong, and I tried to make them happy, but it’s never enough. Everyone always has better ideas than me and I feel useless.” “Baby,” Yunho frowns, sitting up more to turn you to look at him. “You’re anything but useless. And you can’t please everyone. You should know that.” “I know… I’m sorry,” you suck in a wobbly breath. “I didn’t mean to start crying and ruin our night.” “You aren’t ruining anything,” Yunho responds softly. “I want you to tell me when things are going wrong. It’s my job to be here for you, and I always will be. Alright?” You simply nod, shifting to wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He coos at you, one hand rubbing your back soothingly while the other cradles your head against him. “You’re amazing, y/n,” Yunho tells you softly. “Don’t let anyone get you down. Promise?” You nod against him, too overwhelmed to say anything at the moment. When you’ve calmed down enough, you let a small smile take over your features, “You smell nice.” “Yeah?” he whispers, laughing slightly. “I think my new favorite scent on you is peach,” you pull away from his neck to look at him. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles, his hands moving to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks soothingly. “Feeling better?” “Yeah,” you nuzzle into his hands, your eyelids fluttering closed at his soft touch. When you open your eyes again, Yunho is gazing at you lovingly, a soft smile on his face. “What is it?” you whisper, feeling a little shy under his intense gaze. “I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Yunho responds, making your face heat up. “I love you too, Yuyu,” you tell him when you control the butterflies in your stomach somewhat. Yunho smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss, which you melt right into. He has that effect on you. “I missed you this past week,” you tell him once you’re both settled back in, eyes on the TV screen again. “So did I,” Yunho responds softly, his thumb brushing against your knee under the blanket, making you shiver slightly before you snuggle further into his cozy sweater, letting your gaze fix back on the TV. It’s about fifteen minutes later when you start to grow a little bored of watching the movie, taking a quick glance up at Yunho, who still seems fully invested, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration. Sneakily, you carefully slip your cold fingers beneath his sweater, giggling when he jumps, his eyes darting to you in shock. “Y/nnnn,” he whines, wriggling a little at the chill your hands have caused. “I was warm!” “Exactly,” you grin cheekily. “And my hands are cold.”

Yunho shakes his head at you, trying to relax again and ignore your cold fingers. You watch him look back at the TV, and you sigh happily, sliding your hands up a little further against his toned stomach. Yunho tenses for a moment and you hold back a giggle, knowing he’s struggling to stay put and not shove you off. Feeling even more mischievous, you wiggle your fingers slightly, laughing when he immediately jolts with a small yelp. “Sorry,” you mumble, though the smirk on your face that Yunho can’t see proves you’re not really sorry. “You know I’m ticklish,” Yunho huffs, his muscles still tensed underneath your hands. “I know, I know,” you respond, flattening your hands again, showing him you won’t tickle him again. “It won’t happen again, baby.” “It better not,” Yunho warns, but slowly starts to relax again. With a content sigh, you let your eyelids flutter closed, resting your cheek against Yunho’s chest, where you can hear his steady heartbeat. Soon, you find yourself growing sleepy, and you only feel more sleepy when Yunho’s fingers move to your head, softly massaging your scalp. You find yourself being pulled deeper into the soft lull of sleep as Yunho’s heartbeat thumps rhythmically beneath you. “Sweetheart,” you hear Yunho’s gentle, deep voice coaxing you awake. “Hm,” you hum, snuggling further into him with a small sigh. “It’s getting late,” he responds, much to your dismay. “I don’t want you to leave,” you shift, your chin resting against his chest now, looking up at him with sad doe eyes. “I don’t want to leave either,” Yunho replies, his fingers in your hair slipping down to cup the side of your head in his palm. You lean into his touch, nuzzling his hand. “But I have to, unfortunately.” You huff, knowing you’re being difficult, but you’re sad you haven’t gotten to hang out with him much lately, and then you fell asleep for who knows how long. “But I was asleep, and you didn’t wake me!” you protest, pouting up at him. “You were so cute, though,” Yunho responds, sticking his lower lip out at you in a small pout. “I couldn’t wake you up.” “You could’ve,” you mumble, slipping your hands out from under Yunho’s sweater, to which he sighs in content at the loss of contact with your freezing cold hands, although they had gotten a little warmer. “How long was I asleep anyway?” you ask, yawning, as you move your hands to play with the little pearls on Yunho’s necklace. “About an hour and a half,” he replies, bracing for your exclamation of shock. “Yuyu!” you whine, tugging on his necklace a little. “We could have spent more time together if you’d woken me up!” “You seemed like you needed the rest,” he responds softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You sigh, knowing you can’t be mad at him when he’s being this sweet. “And I know how hard you’ve been working, so I figured I’d let you sleep for at least a little bit,” he continues quietly, the softness in his gaze almost too much to handle. “Yunho,” you sigh, shaking your head slightly. “What?” he asks, worry suddenly flooding his features.

“You’re too sweet sometimes, you know that?” you finish, a cheeky smile growing on your face. “You can’t do that!” Yunho pouts. “You scared me!” “Aw, I’m sorry,” you giggle slightly. “It was the perfect opportunity.” “To make me think you were breaking up with me?” Yunho asks, his gaze sad, with a small frown. “What?” you exclaim, incredulous. “I’d never break up with you, Yunho. You know that.” “Okayy,” he responds, the sad look still in his eyes. With a playful eye roll, you lean forward, your lips meeting his in what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. Yunho has other plans, however, and moves his hand to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you melt into him for the thousandth time this evening. “I should go,” he mumbles against your lips as you sigh, disappointed. “I know,” you pout, laying your head down once again, trying to delay the inevitable. “I can’t get up unless you let me,” Yunho chuckles down at you, watching you with a fond gaze. “So, if I don’t, you’ll stay forever?” you ask, looking up at him suddenly. “Do you want me to?” he asks softly, and you blink up at him, your gaze flickering between his eyes, searching for his meaning. “Of course,” you respond quietly. “You know I’d love nothing more.” “So, if I asked you to spend forever with me, you’d say yes?” Yunho asks, his voice soft and full of love. “Are you?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows a little. “Am I what?” he responds, a small laugh escaping him. “Are you asking me to spend forever with you?” you repeat, though you’re pretty certain he already knew what you were asking. “If I was?” Yunho responds, voice almost a whisper. “I’d say yes in a heartbeat,” you reply with no hesitation.

“Well,” Yunho laughs a little, shifting to sit up, forcing you to as well. “That’s good news.” You’re beyond confused now as he moves to stand, and your heart drops when you realize he must be getting ready to leave for the night. “Yeah, it’s great news. What was the poin-“ you start, but cut yourself off when you see Yunho pulling something out of his pocket. “Yunho?” you question, heartbeat speeding up as he moves to one knee, holding a velvet box in his hands. “Y/n,” Yunho starts, looking up at you, his brown eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. “I’ve never been happier with anyone then I am with you. It’s torture having to be away from you for any amount of time, especially when I’m on tour for weeks on end. I mean it with my whole heart when I say you’re the only one I’ll ever want. So, even though I know this isn’t the ideal place to ask this, and this isn’t exactly how I wanted to ask you… I can’t wait any longer. Will you spend forever with me and be my wife?” He opens the velvet box in his hand, revealing a beautiful diamond ring. “Yunho,” you breathe, desperately trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. “Yes, yes, yes!” you laugh, smiling as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. He stands slowly, still holding you, as you loosen your grip, letting him slip the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly. Holding it up in the light, you admire the way it sparkles, matching the glint in Yunho’s eyes as he watches you. “I love you,” he whispers as he reaches over to gently brush the stubborn tears off your cheeks. “I love you too, Yunho,” you reply, grinning, as you wrap your arms around his neck again. “So much.” He returns your smile before placing a tender kiss against your lips, one you immediately return. “How long have you had this?” you ask, gesturing toward the ring as you pull back. “A few weeks,” he responds, laughing slightly. “I was waiting for the perfect time, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.” “I’m glad you didn’t,” you reply, still smiling, realizing you haven’t been able to stop smiling since Yunho proposed. “Again, I’m sorry it’s in your living room with the credits to Spiderman playing in the background,” Yunho pouts, glancing at the TV. You giggle, “Somehow, I think it’s perfect.” “Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly looking worried. “Yunho,” you cup his face in your hands. “The only thing I care about is getting to marry you. The time or place you asked me isn’t important at all.” “Really?” he asks, sighing in relief. “Obviously,” you respond. “Sometimes you’re such a dork, you know that?” “Hey, you just called your fiancé a dork,” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, and you throw your head back, laughing. “I’m sorry, fiancé,” you reply with a wink, watching as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “Seonghwa is gonna kill me when he realizes I asked you in such an unromantic setting,” Yunho sighs, shaking his head. “We both know Hwa is a little too much of a romantic sometimes,” you laugh. “Besides, what could be more romantic than Spiderman?” “Exactly!” Yunho lights up and you giggle at his silliness. “You know, everyday I realize more and more why your Aniteez is a puppy,” you speak up, mostly to yourself, as you watch Yunho excitedly text the Ateez group chat.

When he sends the text, he throws his phone down, moving to scoop you up in his arms, grinning when you let out a small yelp from the unexpected action. “Wanna watch one more movie before I leave?” he asks, and this time it’s your turn to light up even more than you already were. “When would I ever say no to that?” you ask, letting him pull you over to the couch with him. “The next Spiderman movie?” Yunho suggests, looking up at you from his position already seated on the couch as you stand in front of him. “Why not?” you respond, laughing, as Yunho tugs you down with him, cheering at your willingness. “We should have a Spiderman themed wedding,” Yunho wonders aloud as the movie starts playing. “Absolutely not,” you respond, pinching his sides a little in warning. He laughs, grabbing your hands to stop you, “Alright, alright.” A few minutes pass in silence, but you should have known it wouldn’t last long with the excited man beside you. “At least the cake?” “Yunho!”

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ltbunny · 6 months

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Ex husband price brain worms again, c.w/ nsfw, unedited, bad writing, I've never published nsfw before

It's your ex-husband, Price's birthday, and the last thing you expect is for him to show up, with a sweet, suave smile on his face

It's not even his custody day but he says "come on, love. I wanted us to spend it together, like a family. You're really not going to let me take my favourite two girls out for my own birthday?"

All you can do is roll your eyes and let him as he walks in, leaning down and leaving a small peck on your forehead as your daughter runs down the stairs to hug her dad, squealing.

He's adamant about cooking lunch for you two, but you stop him

"Oh, come off it, John, I'll cook since it's your birthday, and you keep saying you'll take us out"

He gets dragged off to play teaparty with the little princess and comes back after a while, his arms slot around your waist, swaying side to side softly as you half heartedly try to stop him, he just grins and nestles his head into the crook of your neck,

"Let the 'birthday boy' hug his wife, love."

"Ex-wife, john."

"Mhm, whatever makes you happy. Happy wife, happy life."

Lunch is served, and the three of you spend the rest of the day going shopping, prices idea. Dollhouse, cars, legos, Barbie, slime, whatever the kid wants, and some small gold necklace for you, even though you won't accept it,

"They're too much, John, stop it-"

"But, love, this is your favourite design and the colour. It'll look beautiful on you."

He buys it and even gets the jeweller to engrave a small j.p on the back of the charm while you're not looking.

He takes you two to a small fancy restaurant at the end of the day, your daughter playing with her new toys on the table, while John's hand holds yours on the table.

"Might retire soon, getting up there in age, love," his eyes watch the way your light up slightly, looking at him before turning away slightly, seeing his gaze, "ill be able to be around more often, wasn't that one of your complaints, I was too busy, so I gave you a little one."

You smack his arm lightly, "Oh, shush, John. She'll be happy. She is always saying how she misses her dad. She keeps asking for a little brother, says everyone in class has one except her," You chuckle softly

At the end of dinner, he drives you two back home, your daughter tuckered out, he picks her up and takes her to her room, tucking her in, kissing her forehead softly, "sorry, I'm not here much, princess, I promise to be around more, okay?"

He comes downstairs and kisses your cheek as you swat him off lightly,

"Stop it, John, you know that's not appropriate,"

"Mhm, whatever you say love, come help me take the things out the car will you?"

The night ends with price bending you over in the backseat, fucking you desperately,

"Fuck, love, I missed this grip, you might have a hard time saying it but your pussy's been missing me, huh? The guys you bring round ain't big enough for ya anymore? Don't worry, daddy's here."

Your fingers grip the car seat, squealing every time he thrusts in

"There's only one thing I wanted for my birthday, you know, love? It's been real lonely up by myself sometimes, and been thinking," he hums lowly, grinding deep inside you while you struggle to even keep up with his pace let alone words, he moves over you, one hand groping your breast, teasing the nipple, the other coming up to your clit, rubbing it along with the harsh pace, "been thinking bout this pussy, and getting the present of life, ain't that cute?"

You gasp, your pussy squeezing around his cock tighter as he starts rubbing your clit faster, "John, please- is, is too much," you moan

"You're doing so well for me, mama, you want another little one too, right? You always said one feels bad, we need to give our little baby a sibling,"

"John- holy shit," your legs shake as he presses you down against the seats, every thrust with one purpose, "please, please, I'm so close!"

He keeps going until he feels your legs trembling, three loads in, his fingers massaging your clit, his lips kissing your neck, leaving hickeys for everyone to see.

You wake up in your bed, listening to John's snoring as you yawn, shifting to get up slightly, his arms tighten around you and his eyes open slightly.

"Mmhm, best birthday ever."

He mumbles before he starts snoring again

#chubby reader #i forgot how to tag #its been like 4 months #captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #ex-husband price #cod x reader #cod mwii #price x reader #captain price #biting my hand so hard rn

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yannawayne · 2 months

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i. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Mild sexual jokes, Making out, Blood, Explosions, Mentions of Child Abuse, Good Aunt-Mom Selina Kyle AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

 NEXT ->

��⊰───⋅

“Uh, good morning?” you offered weakly, trying to give a casual shrug despite the mess around you. “Mom, this might sound insane. But, I think I might have accidentally discovered superpowers.”

Selina stared at you, blinking slowly as she processed the scene before her. Her lips twitched as if she were trying to hold back a laugh or perhaps some form of disbelief.

“Accidentally discovered superpowers?” she echoed. “I think you've been around your boyfriend and his family too much. Baby—”

Before she could finish, your hand instinctively reached out. With a flick of your wrist, a web shot from your fingers and latched onto the door behind her. In a heartbeat, the door was yanked from its hinges, splintering as it flew across the room and crashed into the wall with a resounding thud.

Selina’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to face the now doorless doorway. She blinked at the empty space where the door had once been.

“Well,” she said, “I guess that’s one way to explain things.”

༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 9:02 PM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.

SELINA'S DEFT FINGERS SLID over the fabric of the dress, adjusting and smoothing it until it drapes perfectly over your figure. The elegant emerald gown shimmered softly under the dim apartment lights, the material flowing luxuriously against your skin.

"You didn’t steal this, did you?" you murmur, adjusting the necklace that rests delicately around your neck. "I’d rather not end up in jail tonight."

"The dress? No, it’s one of my old ones," Selina scoffed, turning away and handing you a pair of black heels. "But if anyone asks about the necklace, just say it’s a family heirloom. Which, technically, it is."

You shot her a pointed look. She rolled her eyes with a smirk.

"Oh, hush. I haven’t stolen anything in... at least a month," she drawled.

"A month, wow! That’s a new record," you teased, slipping into the heels.

Selina laughed and shook her head. "Don’t get too comfortable. Just because I’m on a hiatus doesn’t mean I’ve gone straight."

"Well, let’s hope your hiatus lasts at least through tonight," you winced.

She smirked, giving you a once-over. "Trust me, darling, tonight is all about you."

You were about to respond when Selina suddenly snapped her fingers.

“Before I forget...” she said, reaching into one of her drawers. She pulled out a thigh strap and wrapped the leather around your leg, fastening it securely.

Then, she slid one of her blades into the strap. You rolled your eyes but accepted the gesture with a resigned nod. It was Gotham, after all—being prepared was always a need.

“Damian’s got me covered tonight,” you say, trying to reassure her. “You don’t have to worry so much.”

Selina paused, her hands still on the thigh strap, and gave you a skeptical look. “Sweetheart, I worry about you all the time. It’s not that I don’t trust Damian—he’s solid. But Gotham? That’s a different story. Where those Bats go, trouble’s sure to follow.”

You chuckled, adjusting the strap to make sure it was secure. “We’ll manage, mom.”

Selina Kyle might not have been your biological mother, but she became your mother the moment you were placed in her arms years ago. In that instant, the blood that bound you was inconsequential compared to the unspoken promise she made to protect you.

To Selina, you were her child. Not because of any legal ties or shared genetics, but because she chose to be your mother every single day.

And to you, Selina was more than just an aunt. She was the lifeline who stepped in when everything else had crumbled around you.

Selina and Maggie, your biological mother, had both grown up in a fractured family. Their father was a vicious drunkard. Their mother, Maria, was a ghost in their lives—emotionally absent and detached.

When Maria died, the world turned colder. The sisters were torn apart: Maggie was adopted by a warm, loving family, while Selina was abandoned to the unforgiving grip of Gotham’s orphanages. Those grim streets, steeped in shadows and danger, carved her into Catwoman.

But darkness has a way of creeping back into the light, no matter how hard you try to keep it at bay. Maggie, who had managed to build a life of stability and warmth, became a target for the shadows of Catwoman’s past.

Black Mask.

Kidnapped, tortured, and left to die, Maggie was nothing but a ghost by the time the attack was done. Her husband was slain in the carnage, and the only remnant of their family was you— barely a toddler, too young to grasp the gravity of your loss but old enough to feel its weight.

With no other family to turn to, she took you in, binding her fate to yours and vowing to protect you from a world that had already taken so much from both of you.

Her life wasn’t easy. She was young, barely in her twenties, struggling to make ends meet in one of Gotham’s most unforgiving neighborhoods. The meager jobs she managed to scrape together were barely enough to cover the rent, let alone the needs of a growing child.

Selina's decision to take up the mantle of Catwoman was never about the thrill of the heist or the allure of jewels; it was about survival—yours and hers. Gotham demanded a price, and she chose to pay it herself, risking her life each time she donned the suit to give you a chance at something better.

You grew up with a keen sense of the world, your intelligence uncovering bits and pieces of her double life. The mysterious disappearances, the luxurious items that mysteriously appeared—each clue painted a picture that you slowly began to understand.

When the time came for the truth to be revealed, it wasn’t easy

Selina’s hand glided across her vanity, fingers brushing over the cool surface before settling on a sleek black clutch. With a flick of her wrist, she turned and handed it to you.

You accepted it with a gleam in your eye, stepping back as you held it close. A playful twirl sent the emerald fabric of your gown swirling around you, catching the light in a way that made it shimmer.

“Well? What do you think?”

Selina’s stern look melted away like ice under a warming sun. Her gaze swept over your outfit, absorbing the delicate neckline, the tailored fit around your waist, and the gown’s fluid cascade to the floor.

In this small, quiet moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. For just a heartbeat, she allowed herself to pretend that the two of you were simply a normal mother and daughter, sharing a simple, beautiful moment together.

“You’ve always had a way of making everything around you look better,” she purred. “You’re going to knock the whole school off their feet. Damian’s going to need a crowbar to keep the other guys away.”

Selina reached out to adjust the straps on your dress, her touch precise and caring. Her fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, the movement as gentle as a whisper.

“Just remember, darling,” she spoke slowly, “it never hurts to stay safe.”

Ruby-red manicured nails tapped your cheek as she straightened up, a knowing look in her eyes.

Pause. Your eyes widened as you caught the hint of her meaning. “You’re not saying I—”

“I was at that age,” she interrupted with a mock-serious tone. “I’m just saying you should be prepared. Especially with the way that boy looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger. Make sure he wraps something else too.”

A flush of embarrassment rose to your cheeks. You sputtered and fumbled with the clutch in your hand. “Mom! What the hell?! I think that’s enough advice for one night!”

BEEP!

Just as Selina was about to respond, a car horn blared from outside, slicing through the evening’s quiet. Both of you turned towards the window, where a Porsche 911 emerged from the darkness. It looked painfully out of place against the backdrop of your neighborhood—cracked sidewalks strewn with trash, graffiti-streaked walls, and the occasional flickering streetlamp battling the encroaching shadows.

“Looks like your chariot awaits,” Selina said, her hands sliding up your shoulders as she gently nudged you toward the door. “Have a great time, but keep your wits about you. Gotham’s never as calm as it seems.”

With one final hug, you stepped out of the apartment and descended the narrow, dimly lit staircase. As you reached the bottom, you emerged into the cool night air, where Damian stood by his car parked right under a street lamp.

He was impeccably dressed in a deep black suit that seemed to swallow the surrounding light, giving him an almost smoky allure. An emerald button-up shirt peeked from beneath the jacket, its rich hue a perfect match for the striking color of your dress.

Damian’s smoldering gaze warmed as he saw you approaching, a small, approving smile curling at the corners of his lips. He lifted two fingers in a beckoning motion, and though you rolled your eyes, you stepped forward.

“Beloved,” he greeted, extending a hand to you. “You look stunning.”

“Hi, handsome,” you grinned, taking his hand and stepping closer to press a gentle kiss against his lips. Damian responded with a soft hum, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he tilted his head slightly. The kiss deepened just enough to make the moment linger, leaving a warmth that held between you.

Just as you were about to lose yourself completely, Selina’s voice sliced through the night air.

“You’re going to be late!”

Damian pulled away from you so abruptly that it looked as if he’d been yanked back by an invisible force. His face flushed a patchy red, a blend of embarrassment and irritation. He shot a sidelong glance at Selina, his eyes quickly shifting back to you.

Damian huffs, releasing a sharp exhale through his teeth. “Shall we go?”

The click of the car door echoed as Damian opened it for you, his lips twisting into a scowl. You settled into the plush passenger seat, the soft fabric of your gown rustling as Damian carefully lifted it to prevent any creases.

While you adjusted yourself in the seat, you glanced back and waved at Selina, her silhouette framed against the windows. A snort escaped you as you noticed the deadpan look Damian shot in her direction.

Damian was always somewhat awkward around Selina. As Robin, his view of Catwoman was clear-cut—she was a criminal to be dealt with. And yet, he still held a deep respect for her as your mother.

Once he settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the car roared to life with a smooth, powerful purr. The sleek vehicle glided down the streets with impressive speed, Damian navigating through traffic with a confidence that bordered on recklessness.

As he shifted gears, the radio flicked on, filling the car with a soft, pulsing beat.

This may be the night that my dreams might let me know All the stars are closer All the stars are closer All the stars are closer This may be the night that my dreams might let me know

Tilting your head back into the seat, your hair bunching around your shoulders, your thoughts drifted to the first time Damian took you for a drive. Both of you had been sixteen then, and his aggressive maneuvering had left you gripping the seat, your heart racing as if you were in a high-speed chase. Now, though, the thrill was familiar, adrenaline thrumming steadily in your blood.

The ride was brief but exhilarating, and soon the car pulled into the school’s parking lot. Sleek cars and limousines lined the lot, each more extravagant than the last. Students and their dates, dressed in their finest formal wear, mingled and laughed, making their way toward the entrance.

Stepping out of the car, the crisp night air greeted you like a refreshing embrace, carrying the delicate scent of fresh flowers and the faint strains of classical music wafting from the entrance. The soft glow of string lights and lanterns illuminated the path ahead, casting a warm, golden hue over the scene. Damian drew you close, his arm slipping around your waist as you walked together.

The ballroom was stunningly elegant.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their shimmering prisms scattering colorful reflections across the polished marble floor. Tables draped in white linens, adorned with fresh roses and flickering candles, lined the room. The dance floor gleamed under the ambient light, already alive with couples swaying gracefully to the gentle strains of Franz Liszt.

The whole scene practically screamed old money.

You were going to die.

You’d never quite get used to events like these. Over the years, you’d been to your fair share of galas and charity balls, mostly because of your relationship with Damian and that brief, awkward phase when Selina was involved with Bruce.

Each time, you had a knack for stumbling through social minefields, unintentionally insulting high-profile guests or spilling wine on someone’s multimillion-dollar gown And, without fail, the next day’s press would seize the opportunity to spotlight you and your social faux pas.

Gotham Academy, with its glossy veneer and elite crowd, was just another arena

It was a breeding ground for rich fucks, each one more insufferable than the last. The halls echoed with the chatter of kids who had everything handed to them, their lives a far cry from yours. The only reason you’d managed to slip through those gilded gates was thanks to the Martha-Wayne scholarship. Without it, you’d still be stuck in the middle of nowhere with your mother, scraping by on whatever scraps you could find.

“Ya amar, are you going to keep staring at the floor? Or may I have the honor of requesting a dance?”

Damian’s voice cut through your self-deprecating spiral as he snapped his fingers in front of your eyes.

Blinking up at him, you pursed your lips. “I don’t know... this is a really interesting floor.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Oh, really? Pray tell, what makes it so interesting that you’d rather stand here instead of dancing with me?”

“I don’t know. I could stare at it all night,” you hummed, crossing your arms. “Plus, we’ve got to keep our thing going, you know? I can't give in that easily.”

“Our thing? What thing?” Damian blinked.

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but still want each other carnally,” you said, throwing your head back as you laughed.

"Tt," Damian deadpanned, reaching out to grab you by the waist. He lifted you off the ground, your feet barely brushing the polished marble beneath. You wrapped an arm around his neck and giggled, holding on as he carried you toward the center of the ballroom.

“You never miss an opportunity to mortify me, do you?” Damian scolded, gently setting you back down on the floor. Both of you assumed a waltz stance, your hands finding their places on each other’s shoulders and waist.

“I think I just enjoy keeping you on your toes,” you replied with a grin, swaying gracefully with him as the music enveloped you.

Damian's lips curved into a wry smile, despite his grumbling. "You know how much I despise these games you play, Cat."

“Oh? Cat?” you laughed, the rich, velvety fabric of your dress brushing against Damian’s sleek suit as you danced. “Are we going for the classic Batman and Catwoman trope here? Because once Selina retires, I could always take up the mantle of the next Catwoman.”

Damian’s smile dropped, replaced by a look of exasperation. “Please do not. I fear what will become of you then."

“Why not?” you asked, batting your lashes coyly. “Does the idea of me as Catwoman not thrill you?”

Damian made a noncommittal sound, his ears tinged with red as he averted his gaze.

“Don’t get shy on me,” you said with a grin, your voice dropping to a teasing purr. Your hand glided up his jaw, your touch lingering just enough to be felt.

A shadow of something intense flickered in the depths of his jade-green eyes. Damian’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his gaze narrowing into a mock glare that barely concealed the warmth beneath.

“I guess I would not... be entirely opposed to that idea,” he muttered.

He led you into a slow dance, his movements fluid and graceful, reminiscent of those quiet, moonlit nights in his manor’s kitchen. You recalled late evenings when the room was bathed in the soft, silvery glow of moonlight streaming through the windows. On those nights, the world outside felt far away, leaving just the two of you swaying gently to the soft strains of music playing from his phone’s speakers.

It was moments like these that peeled away his walls. In the soft glow of the ballroom lights, the tender, affectionate side of him emerged—like a rare flower blooming in the quiet of twilight. Each layer revealed a deeper, more intimate part of him, offering you a special kind of attention that made every shared glance and touch feel intimate.

“This crazy, almost maddening attraction I have for you makes me feel like I want to stab myself,” Damian murmured as he spun you around, the fabric of your dress flared out like a blooming flower at his feet.

“Wow, you really have a way with words,” you said with a smile. “Admit it—you love every second of it, don’t you?”

Damian’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Perhaps,” he conceded. He drew you back into his embrace as he guided you across the dance floor, your bodies moved in perfect harmony, like two pieces fitting together in a delicate puzzle.

The world around you seemed to blur into a gentle haze of soft music and swirling lights. Damian’s gaze, however, remained sharp and vigilant.

“I don’t like how they’re staring at you,” he murmured, his green eyes narrowing as they scanned the crowd. His voice carried the familiar edge of possessiveness. “Perhaps they need a reminder of whom you belong to.”

“Damian, no—”

Before you could protest, Damian leaned in, closing the distance between you with a smooth turn of his head. The kiss was tender yet heated, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip.

Anyone who glanced your way would see Damian Thomas Wayne with his lips pressed against yours, making it clear who he was with. It wasn’t the first time he’d been so overt—there was that incident when you both ended up in detention because he couldn’t keep his hands off you by your locker.

You whined softly, trying to pull away, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips in a delicate, glistening thread. “We’re in public—”

“Shut up,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough yet tender, before diving back in. The breath you had been holding escaped in a slow, shuddering sigh, mingling with his as he drew you closer, his hands firmly cupping your hips.

Damian seemed to swallow every sweet sound you made, chuckling softly as you mumbled curses against his lips, your grip on his tie tightening. The world around you blurred into insignificance, leaving just the two of you enveloped in a bubble of intense sensation. Your breaths came in ragged bursts, eyes fluttering open and then closing again, lost in the heat of the moment. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless and flushed, the lingering electric buzz of the kiss still crackling in the air between you.

Damian and you locked eyes, his face blank until a shit-eating grin slowly spread across his face.

"I hate you so much," you scowled. “You’re impossible, Damian Wayne.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice a low, teasing whisper. He leaned in, using your own words against you. “Admit it—you love every second of it, don’t you?”

Before you could respond, he tilted your chin up, his lips brushing lightly against yours as he whispered, “Let them see. They’ll just have to get used to the sight.”

The kiss was softer this time, more tender, as you swayed gently against him, savoring the moment of calm.

BOOM.

Without warning, the tranquility was shattered by a deafening explosion.

The sound of shattering glass and a violent burst of energy tore through the ballroom, turning the once elegant space into a scene of utter chaos. Crystal chandeliers swung erratically from the ceiling, their light flickering in disorienting patterns as debris rained down like confetti. The room erupted into a frenzy of screams and frantic movement as everyone scrambled for cover.

“Holy shit!” you gasped, your voice barely piercing through the screams and destruction.

CREAK.

A sudden, ominous groan echoed through the room, drawing your gaze upward. The chandelier, swaying precariously, seemed to shudder as its support gave way. Then, with a heart-stopping creak, the massive fixture began to fall.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Damian’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip.

“Move!”

You scrambled to keep up with his rapid pace, but your long gown snagged on the edge of a flipped table, sending you sprawling to the floor with a jarring thud. Your hand slipped from his grip, and Damian, realizing you were no longer beside him, turned back in a surge of panic.

With no time to guide you gently to safety, he yanked you up from the floor. He pulled you both behind the overturned table, using it as a makeshift barricade.

The chandelier crashed down with a thunderous roar, sending shards of glass, splintered wood, and shattered fragments spiraling through the air. As the debris rained down, you screamed and reached out desperately for Damian. Without hesitation, he rushed to your side, enveloping you in his arms. He pulled you close, pressing your face into his chest and shielding you from the rain of debris with his body.

Finally, the noise of destruction faded into a heavy silence. Damian lifted his head slightly, peering down at you.

“Are you okay?” he panted, voice edged with worry.

Shaken up, you heaved and shook your head vehemently, unable to find the words through your trembling fear.

“What the fuck was that?”

"I don't have a single clue," Damian shrugged, eyes still scanning the room as he peeked over the edge of the table.

From the smoke emerged a middle-aged man, suspended in the air by his mechanical arms—sleek, metallic, and bristling with a variety of intimidating gadgets. The arms whirred and slashed through the air with deadly force, carving through the walls and sending more chunks of debris down.

“You think you can just throw away everything I’ve built?” the man roared. “This school, this place, it’s all been a mockery of my work, my life! I’ve sacrificed everything for this and you’ve repaid me with nothing but scorn!”

Damian cursed under his breath. He settled back down, biting off the fingertip of his glove and pulling it off with a grunt. Pulling up his sleeve, he tapped an emergency button on his wrist, activating a silent alert to his family.

“We have to go,” Damian whispered. He shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped you in the fabric, pulling you close. He lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he sprinted through the chaos.

He carried you swiftly through the building’s hallways, the shrill sound of distant alarms and the echo of your hurried footsteps reverberating off the walls. When you finally reached a safer location, he paused briefly, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any further threats.

“I’ll be okay,” you said, your voice trembling as he gently set you down. You gripped his hands tightly, trying to steady your breath. “Do—do you have your suit?”

“It’s in the car,” Damian grumbled, frustration evident in his voice as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

“I’ll stay here and start helping with evacuations,” you say, already moving to slip out of your heels, the shoes discarded onto the floor.

Damian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off, shaking your head firmly.

“No,” you said firmly, your scowl sharpening. “None of this again. I make my own decisions.”

Damian’s expression hardened. “You’re not a trained fighter. You’re not supposed to be in harm’s way.”

"It's just evacuations. I’m not going to be fighting," you met his gaze as you stood up straight again. “And I’m not going to stand by while others are in danger.”

“Fine,” he said begrudgingly, “but stay hidden and keep away from the villain.”

“I know,” you said softly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You met his gaze lovingly before turning to re-enter the chaos. The corridors were now a frenzy of frantic students and faculty, desperately trying to evacuate.

Damian shot you one last look before sprinting back toward the parking lot.

You slipped back into the ballroom, heart pounding in your chest. The smoke swirled around you, as decor and debris lay strewn across the floor. Amid the chaos, you spotted a girl trapped beneath a toppled table, her muffled cries barely reaching your ears. Clutching your dress in your hands to avoid tripping, you hurried over to her.

“Hey, we need to move!” you called out, shoving aside the debris and wrestling with the heavy wood. With a determined push, you finally freed her from the wreckage. She wobbled as she stood, but you swiftly caught her, your grip steady and reassuring. “You’re okay now. Let’s get out of here.”

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Everyone’s heading for the exits. We need to move quickly,” you replied, guiding her toward the nearest emergency exit. The sounds of the villain’s rampage echoed through the room, punctuated by the distant wail of sirens.

Once the girl was able to get back on her feet and run on her own, you rushed to assist another group, directing them towards the exits and making sure they stayed calm.

SWISH.

There was a sudden, sharp slice, and you snapped your head back toward the ballroom. Damian had reappeared, now clad in his suit.

“Robin?!”

With a decisive, diagonal slash, his katana cleaved through one of the villain’s mechanical arms. The blade sliced through the metal with a sharp, resonant hiss, and the arm’s severed end burst into a cascade of dazzling sparks. Pieces of twisted metal flew through the air like shrapnel, their jagged edges catching the erratic light from the shattered chandeliers.

His cape, a deep, blood-red shroud, billowed behind him like a dark wave, trailing in his wake as he moved. The clash of his katana against the villain’s mechanical arms echoed through the room, each strike a precise blur of red and black.

Amidst the fight, your eyes were drawn to a figure huddled in the far corner. The student, paralyzed with fear, was frozen in place, eyes wide and fixed on the destruction unfolding before them.

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards them, nimbly navigating through the scattered debris and overturned tables. As you reached the student, you crouched beside them and gently placed a reassuring hand on their shoulder.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Alright? We’re going to get through this, but you need to move—now!”

The student’s terrified eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope as they slowly began to rise with your help. Their breath came in shallow, panicked gasps, each exhale mingling with the smoky haze that filled the air. You grunted, your muscles straining as you slipped your arms beneath their shoulders, lifting them to their feet.

"Move!" you urged, guiding the student toward the doors. Their feet stumbled over the debris, but you kept a firm grip on their arm, pulling them along through the chaos. As you hurriedly navigated the wreckage-strewn floor, you felt a strange tingling sensation creeping up your leg.

It started as a subtle prickle, almost like static electricity, but quickly grew into an unsettling sensation that made your skin crawl. You glanced down, trying to pinpoint the source, but the shifting shadows and debris obscured your view.

The legs of a spider, sleek and shadowy, crawled up the fabric of your emerald dress. Its tiny, pulsating body was nearly camouflaged against the rich material, and its eight eyes glinted with an eerie green glow, peering out from the shadows of the gown.

Oblivious to its presence, you continued leading the student toward the safer part of the ballroom, focused on ensuring their escape.

The spider’s glow intensified, its eerie green light pulsating with an ominous rhythm as it crawled up your arm. Just as you pushed the student to safety, a sharp, burning sensation erupted where the spider sank its fangs deep into your skin. A piercing scream erupted from your lips. The searing pain surged through your body, radiating outwards from the bite like a fiery wave. In a frantic, instinctive reaction, you slapped at your bicep, your nails digging into the skin.

Panicked, Damian’s head snapped in your direction, eyes widening in alarm as he spotted you writhing in pain. In his moment of distraction, a metal arm swung violently towards him. The arm connected with a sickening thud against his side, the force of the impact sending him hurtling through the air.

Damian crashed into a wall with a bone-jarring slam and his body crumpled to the ground, the force of the impact visibly shaking him. He lay there, gasping for breath, spit and blood spilling from his chin.

Groaning, he raised his head, feeling the crack in his mask press against his face. Strands of dark hair fell over his single exposed eye, partially obscuring his vision. Squinting through the haze of pain, he cursed under his breath as he saw the villain advancing toward you.

The spider's venom surged through your veins, a wave of searing, unbearable pain radiating from the bite. You stumbled and collapsed to the floor, struggling to stay upright. Pain tore through you as you crawled toward a nearby pillar, your fingers clawing weakly at the surface

Through the haze of your deteriorating vision and the throbbing fog that clouded your mind, you could barely make out the figure of the villain advancing toward you. His mechanical arms whirred with a menacing hum, their sharp, glinting edges catching the dim light of the ruined ballroom.

The last thing you saw before darkness swallowed you was a blur of red.

With a snarl, Damian lunged, his katana slicing through the air with deadly intent. The blade crashed into the villain's mechanical arm, the impact resonating like a gunshot. Sparks exploded from the severed joint, showering the room in a cascade of crackling light as the villain staggered, his metal limbs convulsing with malfunction.

Sliding across the debris-strewn floor, Damian executed a perfect skid, coming to a stop on his knees. He positioned himself between you and the advancing threat, his katana held in a poised, defensive stance.

“Is this all you’ve got?” Damian seethes. “A pathetic tantrum because your grandiose plans fell apart? You’re nothing more than a washed-up has-been clinging to your failures.”

“You think you know what it’s like to sacrifice everything? To watch your life's work crumble? You have no idea what I’ve lost! My research was going to change the world!”

The villain’s mechanical arms flared up in response, their whirring growing louder as he prepared to strike again. Just as an arm was about to land, the piercing whir of a batarang sliced through the air. It struck the villain’s mechanical arm with precision, a bright explosion erupting from the impact. Damian grunted as he braced himself, holding firm against the shockwave, his muscles straining to keep steady. One hand instinctively dropped to your head, shielding you from the force.

The villain recoiled in surprise, momentarily disoriented by the sudden blast, his movements faltering as the shockwave threw him off balance.

Suddenly, the room was engulfed in darkness. The lights flickered and died, plunging the space into a pitch-black void. Shadows danced along the walls, punctuated by loud bangs and the crackling of debris.

Through the darkness, Batman emerged, his imposing figure cutting through the shadows. The sound of his cape rustling was almost like a herald of doom as he got into a fighting stance.

“Robin,” Batman’s voice was a low, commanding growl, “take the girl. I’ll handle it from here.”

Damian wasted no time, swiftly scooping you into his arms. The icy chill of your skin against his own drove a spear of terror through him. The panic clawing at the edges of his mind was a monster he couldn’t afford to face, not now. He focused on keeping you as steady as possible, though your limp form felt like dead weight against him.

He tore out of the ballroom, his shoes skidding on the polished floor as he barreled into the hallway. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale burning in his lungs, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. The entrance was just ahead.

Bursting through the doors, Damian propelled himself into the open air. The scene outside was pure pandemonium. Parents screamed for their children, kids clung to each other in terror, and the harsh wail of sirens pierced the night. Ambulance lights flickered like distant stars in the dark, red and blue blurs.

Now outside, Damian spotted a group of paramedics and, without a second thought, sprinted toward them. His hands shook slightly as he laid you down on the gurney, the coldness of your skin searing itself into his memory.

“She’s unresponsive,” he rushed out in a pant. “Pale skin, cold to the touch. Vital signs are unknown. She needs immediate attention.”

As he spoke, Selina rushed over, her fur coat billowing with each urgent step. The strands of her short, dark hair whipped wildly around her face, framing eyes wide with fear.

She bent down to your level, her breath visible in the cool night air as she placed a trembling hand on your forehead. Her fingers, warm against the alarming chill of your skin, recoiled slightly at the clammy coldness that greeted them. Selina winced, her gaze hardening as she took in the stark contrast between your deathly pallor.

“What happened?” she demanded, her voice taut with concern.

A paramedic, swiftly assessing your condition, replied, “We think she’s in shock. We’ll stabilize her and check for any other issues.”

Selina’s eyes, reflecting a storm of emotions, darted between you and Damian.

“Go,” she urged Damian, her voice carrying a firm edge despite the underlying tremor of her fear. “I’ve got this under control. Go take down that bastard and make him pay for what he did.”

Damian hesitated for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on you. Every muscle in his body screamed to stay, but there was still a threat that left no room for hesitation. He nodded and without another word, turned and sprinted back toward the building. His cape flared out behind him, a streak against the night sky.

Selina's eyes followed Damian's retreating figure momentarily before refocusing on the paramedics. She watched them with sharp eyes, taking in every action and every word. Her hand never left your forehead, each pass of her thumb trying to provide comfort that her heart couldn’t.

As the haze of unconsciousness began to lift, you slowly became aware of your surroundings. The dim, unfamiliar light filtered through your closed eyelids, and a dull, persistent ache from the bite lingered in your arm. You winced, raising a hand to your arm to find that the pain had subsided, leaving only a faint, dull throb. There was no scar, just a vague sense of discomfort.

Was that just a dream?

Before you could think about it anymore, your aunt's face was already in your peripheral.

Selina's voice caught in her throat as your eyes began to flutter open. Her grip on your hand tightened involuntarily, a mix of relief and worry playing across her features.

"Hey, there," she said softly. "You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart."

You stared at her in confusion, teeth chattering against the biting cold. Selina’s eyes softened and she shed her coat, the plush fur rustling softly as it slipped from her shoulders. With gentle hands, she draped the coat around you, the dense, velvety texture brushing against your skin. The rich, warm scent of her perfume mingled with the coat’s embrace. As the coat enveloped you, its heat began to seep into your shivering body, gradually easing the icy grip of the cold.

“You’re going to be okay,” she whispered, the words more for her own reassurance than yours.

The night was supposed to be a celebration, a rite of passage, a milestone to cherish. Instead, it had turned into yet another brutal reminder of what Gotham’s streets truly were: a merciless battleground that chewed up hope and spat it out with a sneer.

God, this city was shit.

Selina sighed, pushing those thoughts aside for the moment. The priority now was clear: get you home and into dry clothes.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, her fingers tracing a path along your cheek as if trying to reassure herself that you were truly okay.

“Dizzy,” you mumbled. A soft groan escaped your lips as you tried to shake off the haze clinging to your senses. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, only to snap open again with a jolt as a sudden realization struck you.

“Damian—where—” you gasped, your voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. In a frantic attempt to sit up, you tried to push yourself upright, but the paramedics and Selina were quick to intervene. Their hands gently, yet firmly, guided you back down onto the gurney.

“Whoa, easy there,” Selina murmured soothingly. “Don’t push yourself. The paramedics said you’re in shock. You need to stay still for now.”

You could feel the gentle pressure of her hands, steady and reassuring, as they anchored you in place. Her eyes, bright green, locked onto yours, conveying more than words ever could. She took a breath, her gaze flickering to the paramedics who were working swiftly around you.

“And Damian is... with his father,” she said, her voice trailing off as she gave you a look, the unspoken meaning in it clear.

Selina’s gaze shifted back to the paramedics with her usual air of confidence. She squared her shoulders, her tone now authoritative.

“Is there a chance I could take her home?” Selina asked, brushing her fingers through your hair with a gentle but firm touch. “It’s getting late, and I’d really rather have her safe in her room.”

The paramedic, a no-nonsense woman named Helen, gave Selina a critical once-over before shifting her gaze to you. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, took in your pale face and the faint tremors still running through your body.

“Well, she’s stable enough for transport, and we’ve done the basic stabilizing procedures,” Helen said, her tone pragmatic. “But she’s still in shock, and it could be risky to move her too quickly. Are you sure you can handle her?”

“She’s my kid. I’ve dealt with worse, believe me,” she replied with a wry grin.

Helen’s gaze softened slightly, though her voice remained stern. “Alright, but she’ll need monitoring for the next 24-48 hours. Light meals, plenty of rest. And no strenuous activity. She should see a doctor as soon as possible.”

Selina’s fingers idly traced patterns on the back of your hand as she listened intently to Helen’s instructions.

“I’ll make sure all of that’s taken care of. Thank you,” Selina said, her voice carrying a rare note of sincerity. Helen nodded, seemingly satisfied with Selina’s response. She handed Selina a card with basic instructions and a phone number to call if any complications arose.

Despite your reluctance to leave while Damian was still knee-deep in the battle, your hazy mind and Selina's insistence eventually led to you being pushed into the back of your aunt's sleek convertible.

The drive was a blur of city lights and concerned glances from Selina. You leaned back, your head resting against the cool, smooth leather of the seat. The gentle hum of the engine beneath you was a steady, rhythmic comfort, a small solace amidst the turmoil.

"Don't worry," Selina murmured, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to check on you. "Damian can handle himself. And the Bat will make sure he's safe. You rest. I'll tell you if anything happens to him."

Her words were a quiet promise amidst the rush of the city outside. You nodded weakly, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing heavily on your eyelids. As the city sped by, its neon glow and shifting shadows blending into a dreamlike haze, you closed your eyes. The fatigue finally overtook you, and you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

༻⊰───⋅

Sunday , 9:02 AM - Your room, Catwoman’s Apartment.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

There was a deep, throbbing ache in your arm, an insistent rhythm that seemed to pulse with each heartbeat, dragging you reluctantly from the depths of sleep. Your eyelids fluttered open to the soft, golden light spilling through the curtains, bathing your bedroom in a warm, comforting glow.

Through the thin walls, the distant murmur of the waking metropolis began to seep in—honking horns, the rhythmic rumble of early morning traffic, and the intermittent chatter of pedestrians starting their day. Occasionally, a siren's wail pierced through the background noise, a sharp reminder of the city's ceaseless pulse.

Faintly, through the walls, the muffled sound of the living room TV drifted to you.

“Good morning, Gothamites! Looking for another beautiful day here in the city. Clouds to start off with, but a pleasant afternoon ahead. Temperature’s in the high 40s—”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

With a groan of frustration, you reached out to silence the blaring alarm clock. As you swung your arm toward it, the clock was crushed under the force. It slammed into the table, which splintered and buckled under the impact. Wood cracked and shattered, sending fragments skittering across the floor. The sudden and violent destruction jolted you fully awake. You stared, wide-eyed and disbelieving, at the mess, your arm still extended in mid-air as if it was frozen.

“What the—?” you muttered, your voice trailing off as you inspected your hand. It looked like your hand, perfectly normal and familiar. Just a normal hand.

Carefully, you climbed out of bed, wincing as you surveyed the mess of splintered wood and scattered debris strewn across the floor.

You paused. A sudden, sharp tingle pulsed through your arm, like an electric jolt that raced beneath your skin. It was both invigorating and disorienting, sending a rush of awareness through your senses. Instinctively, you turned your head, your reflexes sharp as your hand darted out to catch a fly that had buzzed too close.

To your shock, your fingers closed around the tiny insect with a reflex you didn’t know you possessed. You stared at the fly, trapped gently between your fingers. Carefully, you opened your hand and let the fly go.

It darted away, disappearing into the room.

“Okay... That was new,” you muttered, shaking your head as if trying to clear away the confusion.

The tingling in your arm surged again, sharper and more insistent this time. You winced, the sensation both alien and unsettling, your mind struggling to grasp what was happening. Instinctively, you extended your hand, your gaze fixed on it in growing confusion.

Then, without warning, your fingers curled involuntarily, and something shot out from your wrist. A thin, silvery thread erupted into the air, glistening with a strange, iridescent sheen.

THWIP.

The web snaked through the room, swift and fluid, before anchoring itself with a solid thunk against the wall. The sight of it—a web, unmistakably organic, stretching taut and firm—left you gaping in shock.

“What the actual fuck,” you freaked out. You took a hesitant step forward and tugged on it, half-expecting it to dissolve under your touch. But the webbing held firm.

You tried to pull it away, but it stayed stubbornly in place. Grunting, you pressed a foot against the wall for leverage and yanked harder. The webbing resisted with surprising strength, and a series of warning cracks echoed before a chunk of concrete broke away, crumbling under the strain.

The sudden release caught you off guard, sending you stumbling backward. You lost your balance and fell hard onto the floor, the impact knocking the breath out of you. For a moment, you just lay there, sprawled across the hardwood, your chest heaving as you tried to make sense of what just happened.

“What the fuck did I just get myself into?” you muttered to yourself, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up in your throat.

When you finally moved to stand, curiosity got the better of you. Experimenting, you aimed your hand at different parts of the room, determined to understand this strange new ability.

This time, when you extended your hand, the web shot out with precision, latching onto a nearby lamp. You gave it a pull, and the lamp skidded across the floor toward you.

There was another tingle, and you perked up. The sensation was almost electric, a ripple of anticipation that seemed to focus on your bedroom door. As you turned toward it, the door swung open and Selina stepped in, dressed in her pajamas.

"What's with the noise...?” she trailed off and froze in the doorway, her eyes widening as they took in the chaos of the room. Broken wood and scattered debris covered the floor, interspersed with strands of glistening webbing clinging to the walls and lamp.

“Oh,” Selina murmured in surprise. She stepped cautiously over a particularly large piece of broken wood, her eyes darting around the room. Her gaze lingered on the webs, her brow furrowing as she raised an eyebrow at you.

Selina stared at you, blinking slowly as she processed the scene before her. Her lips twitched as if she were trying to hold back a laugh or perhaps some form of disbelief.

“Accidentally discovered superpowers?” she echoed. “I think you've been around your boyfriend and his family too much. Baby—”

Selina’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to face the now doorless doorway. She blinked at the empty space where the door had once been.

“Well,” she said, “I guess that’s one way to explain things.”

You stood there, face heating up as you tried to pull your hand back. “Y-Yeah, I think I need to work on my control.”

Selina shook her head, a frown on her lips. “Okay. First... Let’s get this mess cleaned up before the landlord starts asking questions. And maybe—just maybe—try not to redecorate the whole apartment with your... spider silk.”

༻⊰───⋅

A warm mug of coffee was placed in your hands as Selina settled beside you. You took a sip, but your knee continued to bounce in an anxious rhythm. She had called the school earlier to inform them that you would be taking it easy for the week, citing sickness as the reason.

You cast a glance at the puncture marks on your wrists with a mix of disgust and unease.

Oh, you felt sick alright.

"Alright," Selina said, taking a sip from her own coffee mug and setting it down with a clink. "We need to figure out what’s going on and how to handle it. The sooner we get a grasp on this, the better."

You nodded absentmindedly, flexing your fingers around your mug.

Selina sat with a laptop positioned between the two of you, its screen a chaotic mosaic of open newspaper articles and news websites. Humming softly to herself, she clicked through the pages, her eyes darting across headlines and images. The rhythmic clatter of her clicks was punctuated by occasional pauses as she focused on key details.

“Am I a meta?” you blurted out, staring at your reflection in the dark liquid of your coffee.

"Well," Selina began, her tone measured, "based on what we've seen so far, you're likely displaying meta-human traits. Though," she added with a wry smile, "I'm pretty sure I’m human despite the whole cat shtick. Same goes for your mother. Your father...well, that’s a different story."

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by that?"

"Secretive guy. Kind of insane," Selina murmured to herself. "He did genetics research—"

She paused.

"Wait a minute," she said, her voice trailing off as she seemed to piece together something significant. "Your father was involved in genetics research..."

Selina licked her lips before grumbling and typing into the laptop. The screen flickered, and she pulled up a dense academic paper with your father's name prominently displayed. The title read: "Genetic Enhancement through Arachnid DNA Integration: Potential and Pitfalls."

She stared at the screen for a moment, a mix of disbelief and concern crossing her face. "Total nutjob," she muttered, shaking her head.

You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the technical jargon. "So... what’s it say?"

Selina’s fingers danced over the keyboard, scrolling through the dense paragraphs. "It describes experiments involving spider DNA to enhance human traits—strength, agility, and reflexes. Medical use too."

RING!

The sharp ring of your phone shattered the silence, jolting you both. Startled, you fumbled with the mug in your hand, which slipped from your grip and tumbled toward the floor. Your reflexes kicked in, and your foot shot out, catching the mug mid-fall with a swift kick, sending it flying back up into your hand. You blinked.

Selina’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, her gaze flicking from the mug in your foot to you. She grabbed a notepad from the desk, her pen already poised, and began scribbling furiously.

“Fast reflexes,” she muttered.

You scrambled to set the mug back on the table, your hands slick with sweat as you snatched your phone off the couch.

"Hello?" you answered, nervously wiping your damp hands on the fabric of your jeans. "W-Who’s this?"

"Beloved?" Damian’s voice crackled through your phone, sharp with an edge of worry. Arabic curses slipped through his words. “I’m sorry for calling so late. I didn’t mean to. I was knocked out after the confrontation.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You got knocked out? What happened?”

"Just a minor inconvenience for someone of my skillset," he said dismissively. "I’m fine now. But what of you? Father mentioned that Selina told him about your sudden absences from school.”

You hesitated, glancing at Selina, who shook her head vehemently. She pressed a finger to her lips, urging you to stay silent about the spider situation.

"Fine!" you squeaked. "Totally fine. Just... family matters."

Damian’s voice was laced with skepticism. "Family matters? Are you sure you’re alright?"

"Yep," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the strain. "Absolutely. Just... you know, the explosion rattled me a bit. The paramedics said I needed some rest for a few days.”

"I can head over to care for you—"

Selina rolled her eyes and extended her hand.

“Give me the phone,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. You hesitated for a moment, but the stern look on her face made it clear you had no choice. Reluctantly, you handed it over.

"Damian," she greeted him with a sickly sweet tone, "this is Selina. Everything is under control here. There’s no need for you to come breaking into my apartment."

There was a grunt before Damian responded, "Miss Kyle, I insist. It’s no trouble. I should be there to help. As any partner would."

Selina’s eyes flashed with irritation as she leaned against the couch, arms crossed. "I appreciate your concern, kid. But it’s really not necessary. She’s fine."

"Fine?" Damian’s voice took on a mocking tone. "After a confrontation like that? I highly doubt it. Recovery after such an incident can be complicated.”

Selina scowled. Her voice cut through the phone line with a sharp edge. "Damian, do you seriously doubt my abilities as a guardian?"

There was a pause.

"With all due respect—"

"I've got this!" Selina hissed. "She's safe, she's resting, and you're not needed here right now. Understood?"

There was another pause before Damian reluctantly agreed. "Understood. But if anything happens—"

"You'll be the first to know," Selina assured him "Now, go take care of yourself. I have got this handled."

"Fine," Damian said, still sounding begrudging. "Take care."

Selina handed the phone back to you, her expression exasperated. “He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“You couldn’t even imagine,” you snorted as you pressed the phone back to your ear. “Hi, baby.”

Damian’s voice crackled through the speakers, the faint static only adding to the gruffness of his tone.

"Tt. Hello," he grumbled, his tone falling flat. You couldn’t help but snicker, the sound escaping despite your best efforts to stifle it.

“Don’t be mad,” you whisper into the phone. “I’ll only be gone for a week. You’ll survive. Mom's right—I’m in good hands. You need to focus on recovering too.”

“Anything at all. Father and Alfred have confined me to my bed, but the window to my bedroom remains open. The sheer ignorance of their restraint measures astounds me—they failed to account for my skills in evading such confinement.”

"Please, don’t try to escape through your window on my behalf. I really don’t need Bruce lecturing us again,” you groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Very well,” Damian said with a hint of a pout, “but do remember, I am at your disposal if you should require anything.”

“Uh huh,” you hummed. “I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself, Dami.”

“And you, my beloved,” he said, his voice softening. “Until then.”

There was a beep, and the call ended. You sighed, letting your hand drop.

Selina took a sip of her coffee, her lips curling into a wry grin. “He’s just like his father—equally obsessive and protective. Must run in the genes. That or we just have a knack for ensnaring emotionally constipated men.”

You laughed, a light, nervous sound that filled the room. As you tried to drop your phone back on the couch, you were met with unexpected resistance. The phone stubbornly adhered to your hand, as if it had decided to become a permanent accessory.

“Uh…”

You squinted at the phone, wriggling your fingers and trying to shake it off. No matter what you did, the phone remained firmly in place, glued to your palm.

"Sticky hands?" Selina suggested, glancing at the notepad in her hand now filled with scribbled notes and observations. She made a note with a touch of amusement, her pen moving quickly across the page.

Grumbling under your breath, you made a few more attempts to pry the phone off your hand. “Looks like it. Just another thing to add to the list of weird,” you huffed.

With furrowed brows, you used your other hand to grip the phone, attempting to twist it away. In your distracted state, you failed to account for your newfound strength. The device crumbled under your grip, shards of plastic and glass exploding across the couch.

You stared at the wreckage in disbelief, your heart sinking. Not missing a beat, Selina quickly scribbled down “Enhanced strength” on her notepad.

You grumbled as the remnants of your phone fell to the floor, a mix of frustration and embarrassment washing over you.

"Can't we—can't we call Batman for this?" you asked, your hand nervously tangling in your hair. "Why'd you stop me from telling Damian anyway?"

Selina’s expression turned severe. Her hands gripped your shoulders firmly, guiding you to face her.

"Listen to me. Batman, Damian, or anyone else cannot know about this right now."

"What—Mom—"

"Not a word," she cut in sharply. "This is meta-level stuff we're dealing with. The Bats don’t handle metas well. We need to keep this under wraps until we fully understand it. The last thing I need is Bruce doing something to hurt my daughter."

Your face fell as her words sank in.

Selina’s grip on your shoulders relaxed slightly, and her gaze softened. Her voice took on a gentler, more empathetic tone. "Power frightens people, especially when it’s something they don’t understand. When they encounter something extraordinary, their confusion often morphs into fear. And fear... well, fear can make people see threats where there are none."

She took a deep breath, her expression grim. "Batman, in particular, has contingency plans for every potential threat, even for his closest allies. We—I can't risk him viewing you as one." Her fingers tightened on your shoulders, a silent plea for understanding.

"Alright," you said quietly, trying to steady your voice. Lying to Bruce was one thing. But Damian... Damian was different. The thought of deceiving him felt like a weight pressing heavily on your chest.

Selina seemed to sense your hesitation. Her gaze softened, and she placed a hand gently on your shoulder. “I know it’s not easy,” she said, her tone soothing. “Damian is—”

“Different,” you finished for her, the word catching in your throat. “He’s always been there for me, and now... I’m just lying to him.”

Selina nodded. “I understand. But you know, that boy looks up to his father. There’s no telling he won’t spill something. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

"I get it,” your lips pursed. “But... what do we do now?"

Selina’s expression shifted from intense to thoughtful as she took a step back, her grip loosening. She glanced at the scattered remnants of your phone, then at the notepad filled with her hastily scribbled notes.

"Well," she sighed, "we need to find another space. I think you've done enough damage in our apartment."

 ༻⊰───⋅

NEXT ->

#the suffering begins!#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfamily #dc robin #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne imagine #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman

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alicentofhightower · 3 months

Text

widow

pairing: helaena targaryen x maid!reader

synopsis: helaena yearns for more insects to cradle, and you are all too willing to add to her collection.

includes: pre-b&c helaena but post aegon’s coronation, just cute lil crushes, fluff

wc: 1232

a/n: hiiii!! i wrote this for a twitter oomf so if u see this i hope u like it <3 this might be a bit ooc bc this is my first time writing for her but i tried lmao

Perhaps it was a bit stupid for you to be so afraid of insects while you worked in such a large castle, but the thought of little spiders crawling around frightened you nonetheless. The Red Keep was a monstrous thing, with halls seemingly never ending and chambers large enough to house an entire family. It was only natural for such little creatures to infest it.

You’d never understood why Helaena was so fond of them. Out of all of the royal family, she was the one you were closest to. Many of the other maids you worked with whispered of what a strange woman the Queen was, with her peculiar mumblings and odd tastes, but she was the sweetest woman you’d ever met.

A Targaryen dragonrider, she was, the mother of the heir to the Iron Throne and King Aegon’s only daughter, but she was so gentle. You suppose it was only logical you’d developed a crush alike to a green boy’s on her. Helaena had always had an aversion to touch, but you were the only one she allowed to braid her hair, and sometimes her fingers would trace indecipherable shapes on the back of your hand. You wondered what they meant.

“I’d like for more little bugs,” she tells you one day while you braid her hair. Wavy and soft, it was, befitting one of her station. “They are my only company when the children are at their lessons. I enjoy hearing their whispers.” You fight the urge to raise a brow at that, knowing Helaena’s wisdom often presented itself in riddles.

She sat on a velvet-cushioned chair in front of her vanity, adorning a blue dress matching Dreamfyre’s scales and a silver-chained necklace. Nimble fingers play with her wedding ring as you finish up, and it’s clear she’s making an effort to sit up straight. She’d never had good posture, but she’d try for you.

You place your hands on her shoulders as you bend to the level of her ear. The feel of them is purposely light and feathery, meant to make it easy for her to brush them off if she so desires. “Mayhaps you might ask your lord husband for more,” You say, your tone tender as always.

“He does not take interest in what I do.” Her words are simple and to the point. That was always how she spoke of Aegon. Then, she turns to face you, a small smile fixed on her face. The way the light from the window illuminates her face makes her resemble an angel.

She places her hand on top of where yours rests on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you,” she says sincerely, then smooths out the wrinkles of her periwinkle gown and stands. You find yourself getting lost in the deep blue of her eyes, ever so alluring.

Only a moment later, you snap out of it, bowing your head to her and leaving the room with haste. It was improper for a person of your standing to carry such intimate affections for a royal woman, nevermind the fact that you were one yourself. Yet, you could not force yourself to ignore the thought that had come to you — to get Helaena more of her little bugs.

Your attempts to suppress your fears do not work. You find yourself asking yourself why you’re even putting yourself through this much trouble for just a few bugs, but you shrug it off and keep going.

You barely even recognize the hall you’re in, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve been here. You grip your scarlet skirts closer to you with one hand and grasp the candle tightly in the other, letting out a shaky sigh that echoes through the corridor.

You’re here with one goal in mind: get Helaena her silly spider, then run to her chambers so you never have to hold it again. To touch such a wretched thing will disgust you, no doubt, but it is worth it if it is for her. Thoughts of its impropriety are repressed yet again when you bend down to get a look at the stone floor.

It’s repulsive. What seems like thousands of thick cobwebs cover the parts of the stone by the wall, waiting to be stepped on by a group of nobles on the morrow. How do they come so fast? You do not wish to know the answer.

Swallowing down a dramatic shudder, you extend your hand, palm up, in search of an insect you think Helaena will take a liking to. You’re careful with the torch you hold, tilting it down to get a closer look at the sight before you.

There’s a little army of them, it seems, though they’re all spread out. A black widow catches your eye almost immediately, and it almost looks like its beady eyes are staring right through you. Like there’s someone behind you.

You whip your head around, but there’s no one there. “Come on, sweet thing,” You whisper, but it’s mostly to yourself rather than to the little recluse you grab speedily. You cannot fight the yelp that escapes from your throat when you feel its legs poking around in the gaps between your closed fingers.

You practically run up the steps towards where the royal chambers are after that, ignoring the piercing stares you receive from the other maids, the guards, and the noblemen alike. Fuck them, you think, ignoring the fact you’re going to repent at the Sept later for utilizing such a foul word, this is for the Queen.

Quite rudely, you realize later, you burst through the doors of Helaena’s chambers and feel a wave of guilt when you see how she startles at the noise of it. She’d always been sensitive to loud interruptions.

“Your grace,” you squeak, almost wincing at the tone of your voice. Helaena sets her embroidery hoop aside, and you can’t help but notice how similar the spider in it looks to the one in your palm. Wide eyes study you as you move to sit on the floor beside her. It’s far more clean than the hallway.

Gentle hands reach for yours. “What’s the matter?” She asks, always so empathetic, and her lips part in surprise when she sees the bug you hold. Never had you spoken of it to her, probably not wishing to offend her somehow, but she’d always known of your aversion to such critters.

She reaches for it herself, smiling softly at the feeling of its tiny legs crawling over her wrist. Gasping, as if realizing what you’ve done for her, she sets the thing in one of the empty cages behind her and turns her full attention to you. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “You did not have to.”

“You said it yourself, my Queen. You required more of them, did you not?”

Her cheeks flush at that, a rare sight. Gingerly, almost afraid that you’ll pull away in repulsion of her touch, she places a kiss onto your temple. An honor, you’ll realize later, knowing of her usual unwillingness when it comes to physical touch.

A tentative finger traces the lines of your palm. Her eyes are still fixed on you. “…I’ve never had someone care so much for what I desire,” She admits, “or mine own interests.”

Suddenly, she interlaces her fingers with yours. “Will you stay?”

#helaena targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen fluff #helaena targaryen x you #helaena targaryen x y/n #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #team green x reader #hotd fluff #house of the dragon fluff #wlw x reader #lesbian x reader

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darkbluekies · 3 months

Text

Silas, Dr Kry & King Edmund drabbles: rainy day activities

Yandere!mafia, yandere!doctor & yandere!king (x fem) x reader

Warnings: mentions of punishments, violence, poisoning

Silas:

Silas gets a confused look from his second in command.

"This is insanity", he mumbles.

"Meh, relax a bit, won't you?" Silas asks and removes his shirt, throwing it at him. "It's just rain."

You're already out in the rain, lying down on the grass in an 'X'-shape. Silas walks out into the backyard and lies down beside you. He enjoys hearing your free, little giggles.

"You're such a child, you know that, right?" Silas smirks and looks at you.

"I haven't felt rain for a long time", you say and frown, feeling your heart sink. "I can't actually remember when ... when I felt it last. I just want to feel it again."

You've been spending quite some time in the basement these last weeks. If only you could behave. Partly why you were allowed to go outside in the rain, despite the threat of becoming sick, might just be some guilt. Hearing you giggle makes everything worth it. And seeing through your wet clothes is a bonus.

"If you get sick I'm never letting you out again", he says and pulls you into his embrace, pulling you up on his chest.

If anyone is getting sick, it's him without a shirt, you think but keep your thoughts to yourself. No need to go back to the basement now that you've finally escaped it.

You notice someone in the window. Silas follows your eyes and turns to his second in command in the door opening. he's holding Silas's shirt while crossing his arms over his chest.

"Could you tell those horny fuckers in the window to stop staring at my spouse before I go in and deal with it myself?" Silas asks coldly.

His second in command returns inside. Silas hugs you closer, kissing your wet forehead.

"You're shivering", he says after a while and pulls you even closer, hoping to warm you with his body heat. "Are you cold?"

"It's starting to become a bit chilly", you admit.

Silas stands up with you in his arms, smiling.

"Then let's go inside and have a warm bath", he says. "Afterwards we can cozy up in bed and watch a movie. I'm not done with you yet."

(Husband) Dr Kry:

You hear the front door open, close and lock. Two minutes later, he's up in the bedroom. You don't give him any attention.

"I'm back", he smiles and sits down on the side of the bed, taking your hand. "I know that you have been feeling a bit down lately, and this weather isn't helping ..." He looks towards the raindrops on the window, "... so I thought that I would get you something to cheer you up."

You lift your eyes from the bed and look at him. His smile widens, light blue eyes softening. He stands up and holds out his hand. You stare up at him in confusion.

"Do you want to come see?" he asks and adds, as if he can read your hesitant thoughts: "It's okay. Will you come?"

You nod and take his hand, using it to pull yourself up from the bed. Your knees give up as you put weight on them and black spots dance through your sight. He catches you and wraps his arm around your waist, helping you downstairs.

There are a few plastic boxes on the dining room table. Kry sits you down on a chair before sittign down on a chair in front of you. You let your eyes wander over the colorful beads, the stretchy thread,

"I thought that we could make some necklaces and some bracelets", Dr Kry smiles. "Does that interest you? We can play some music too."

You nod. He puts on some calm jazz tunes on a loud speaker and the two of you start to thread beads. Dr Kry makes something himself, to your surprise. You never thought that he would join in on an activity like this.

Outside the window, the rain keeps pouring. Sitting in the kitchen, making jewlery makes you forget everything. Forgetting the rain, the pain in your body and what Dr Kry has done. You can pretend that you are a normal couple, doing normal couple activities.

You make two bracelets. One white and one blue. Dr Kry makes one in blue and red. Without saying anything, you shoot the blue bracelet over the table, towards the blonde man. He looks up from his hands, at the bracelet, and then at you.

"What's this?" he asks and picks up the blue bracelet. "Did you make this for me?"

You nod and shrug nonchalantly, trying to make it look like you don't care, because the reason why you did a bracelet for him scares you. Why did you make him a bracelet?

Dr Kry smiles and places the bracelet over his wrist. His sparkly blue eyes admires it fondly.

"Thank you", he says.

He seems to hesitate for a moment before standing up, walking around the table to you. One hand resting on your cheek, turning your face gently upwards to meet his bending down and meeting your lips.

King Edmund

Rain makes him clingy. It gives him an excuse to ditch all his work and cuddle up with you in bed.

You're laying on your back and Edmund is scattered over the bed, hugging your waist and leaning his head on your stomach, as if you were nothing more than a bodypillow. When you try to get up, he tightens his arms and whines in protest.

"If you try to get up, then God help me for what i will do", he mumbles, voice getting muffled in your blanket.

"But I have to-", you start.

"No. You don't have to do anything. Stay."

You have no other choice than to accept that you will have to stay in bed all day with Edmund's muscular arms wrapped around your body like a straightjacket.

"Play with my hair", Edmund mumbles and when you don't reply he forcefully grabs your hand and buries it into his black hair. "I said play with it."

You scratch at his scalp carefully. You can feel him physically relaxing against your body. Like a cat. His head rests against your stomach, lisiting to your body's sounds.

"Your majesty, the guards need-", a voice says.

The warmth disappears as Edmund's head shoots up, his icy cold eyes glaring at the maid in the door opening. He climbs over you, grabs the glass on the bedside table and throws it towards the door, missing the woman's head with mere centimeters.

"Bother me again and I'll make sure it hits you next time", he growls

The woman hurries out and shuts the door behind her. Edmund scoffs and lays down with his head on your stomach again, wrapping his arms around your body, making himself comfortable. He could have hit that poor woman if he wanted to.

"Don't give me that look", he mumbles without opening his eyes, as if he could read your thoughts. "I didn't hit her with it, did I? Exactly."

The rain keeps pouring outside the window. You're not getting out of here until the sky is clear.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #king yandere

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

Note

Ok 1 I love your Halloween theme, and 2 can I request a delightfully unhinged threesome between estranged twins, jackson and Dr. Crane 👀

oh my i wonder who could've given you such a ridiculously thirsty idea!!! definitely wasn't me ummm anyways this turned out to be another full length fic, so. yeah.

𝖌𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎 | jonathan crane x reader x jackson rippner

length: 3.6k

warnings: NONCON SMUT (dark as fuck, 18+ only, read the warnings), kidnapping, implied stalking, yandere!jonathan, threesome with oral m receiving and breeding kink, housewife kink, slight corruption kink, possibly inexperienced jonathan??

It was eerie, seeing his twin on the other side of the doorway; it wasn’t quite like looking in a mirror, but it was closer than anything else was.

The differences were obvious, and had only become stronger over time: the hair, the glasses, even the way they dressed. But the biggest difference between the brothers was their smiles… in fact, Jackson was wearing that tilted, toothy grin already. “Well, look at you,” he greeted smugly, “Doctor Crane.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d really come,” Jonathan admitted quietly.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever call me again,” Jackson laughed as he stepped inside, despite never actually having been invited in. “Nice place, Doc— guess they pay you pretty good at the looney bin.”

“We, uh, try not to use that term,” Jonathan mumbled as he watched Jackson roam the apartment, getting a little nervous that he might break one of the more expensive decorations or artifacts.

“So, what’s this problem you needed my help with?” Jackson wondered as he spun on his heel to face his brother. “Must be a pretty sticky situation you’ve got yourself in if you have to ring up your big brother.”

“You’re only four—"

“Four minutes older, yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “but somebody had to be first.”

“I need… advice,” Jonathan finally answered, “regarding a sort of… sensitive situation.”

“You can spare the foreplay, Jonny, this isn’t my first time,” Jackson smirked. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Nothing… happened, really,” he sighed, “I just… there’s someone that needs to be… dealt with.”

“If you want a hit, I don’t actually do that,” Jackson explained, “but I can call somebody for you—“

“Not a hit, no,” Jonathan shook his head, “the opposite, really… I need her kept alive.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Oh? A ladyfriend you want protected?”

“Uh, sure,” Jonathan mumbled awkwardly, “but I’ll take care of that. It’s her, um, footprint, if you will. Her old identity, and all that— I need her to disappear, so to speak. W-well, she already disappeared… I just need people to stop looking for her.”

“You know, you’re always full of surprises, Jonny,” Jackson laughed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have this woman in your basement.”

“I don’t have a basement,” Jackson replied.

“That’s… not the part I was expecting you to deny…”

Soon enough, Jonathan escorted Jackson to his bedroom, where you were tied to one of the bedposts by your wrists, curled up in a shaking little ball, watching with wide eyes as the two men entered the room. Jackson realized you probably hadn't seen anyone other than Jonathan since getting here-- that, or you were just thinking oh fuck, there's two of them?!

“Why’d you dress her up like that?” Jackson snorted, admiring the vintage-style dress and heels, with a matching set of pearl earrings and necklace. “I didn’t know you were so… traditional.”

Jonathan cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting a bit pink. “Can we just focus on the present issue, please?”

"And what a lovely issue it is," Jackson cooed as he stepped closer to you, admiring you with a tilted head.

You watched him approach with wide eyes, finally speaking in a broken whisper. “Please,” you choked out, “help me— he’s keeping me here, I think he’s gonna kill me—“

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Jackson smiled, “he’s real sweet on you. I’d just be worried about whatever freaky shit he’s into.”

“Well, as you can see, she’s not adjusting very well,” Jonathan sighed. “I thought my drugs would help— and she’s pretty obedient when she’s been given a large dose, so I was sort of right— but I can’t keep her high all day, she’ll build a tolerance. And I know her case is going to get a little too much attention, if there isn’t some kind of closure for the police or the family sometime soon. I mean, a beautiful, promising young medical student? Gone without a trace? It’s cable news catnip.”

“You’re right about that,” Jackson agreed. “There’s a pretty face perfect for the papers.”

As Jackson reached to tilt your chin, petting the line of your jaw, Jonathan slapped his hand away. “Hey, hands to yourself,” Crane warned, “she’s mine.”

“Okay, Mr. Defensive,” Jackson widened his eyes, raising his hands like he was perfectly innocent. “How sloppy were you? Are they gonna find any evidence that brings them here?”

“I don’t think so,” Jonathan sighed, “but you can’t be too sure. Even without evidence, she took one of my classes, so if they get desperate enough they can certainly trace her to me.”

Jackson sighed. “That’s tricky,” he nodded. “And it gives us two options.”

“Which are?”

“The happy ending, and the sad ending,” Jackson explained. “Happy ending: I get one of my little computer nerd friends to fake a plane ticket to somewhere exotic. Send a postcard to a friend. Just like that, she’s absconded from her old life, escaped the pressure of med school, and everyone thinks she’s off somewhere getting her groove back or whatever.”

“And the sad ending?”

“Bloody clothing planted by the woods, with a tip that somebody saw her hiking,” he shrugged. “Big bad wolf got to her. Simple as that. That one’s handy because no one’s gonna expect her to come back… and you can have her all to yourself, forever.”

Jonathan bit his lip, obviously excited by the idea. “I'm guessing that will require taking a sample from her?"

"Not too much," Jackson promised, "you're a doctor, you can do it safely."

"She's scared enough of me as it is," Jonathan sighed. "I thought she would... take to it a little faster."

"What, you thought she would like getting kidnapped?"

"I thought she would appreciate how well I can take care of her," Jonathan clarified.

"Oh, Jonny," Jackson laughed, "you haven't learned a thing about women since the last time I saw you, huh?"

Jonathan didn't even have the heart to deny it.

"When they ask if they look fat in something-- you just say no, don't even look, okay? It's like DARE: Just. Say. No." Jackson informed his brother sternly. "And when they say they're not hungry and don't want anything, just order some fries anyway or she's gonna end up with half your entrée. And most of all-- you can't forget this one-- they really dislike being kidnapped and held in captivity."

Jonathan crossed his arms. "I knew that," he announced defensively.

"Let me ask you this," Jackson began with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you used her yet?"

Jonathan shuddered a little, looking embarrassed as he looked at you and then to the floor. "J-just once..." he admitted. "That was... a lapse in restraint. I had wanted to wait until she was more comfortable, but..."

"But you just couldn't help yourself with a sweet little thing like this in your bed, huh?" Jackson finished. "I get it. And she looks cute when she's scared."

You shuddered under Jackson's hungry stare, and he winked at you. "So, you'll take care of it?" Jonathan reminded him. "Happy ending or sad ending, whatever you think is best."

"Well, I'm always a fan of a happy ending," Jackson smirked. "You know speaking of: I figure I can give you a good deal on this whole thing... you know, since you're family."

"Alright," Jonathan nodded.

“I’ll make sure her case is closed… if you let me take her for a spin.”

It seemed to take Jonathan a moment to realize what that meant, before he laughed incredulously. “No,” he asserted, “absolutely not.”

“Oh, don’t be so insecure,” Jackson pouted, “she’ll still be yours when I’m done with her. You can keep her for the rest of your life— I’m just asking for one night.”

"I can pay you very well for your time, Jackson," Jonathan promised.

"Eh, money's boring," Jackson shrugged.

"If I recall correctly, women tend to bore you pretty easily as well," Jonathan accused with a frown.

"Sheesh, you kidnap one woman and you start getting all judgmental that I haven't settled down," Jackson rolled his eyes. "I don't have a lot of time for anything serious, that's all. In fact, I barely have time for anything these days. That's why I figure I can help you break in Mrs. Crane over there."

"I don't need any help," Jonathan promised.

"Except for the part where, if I don't help you, you're probably gonna get caught with a missing woman tied to your bed," Jackson reminded him.

Jonathan sighed, clearly realizing the choice he had to make.

“C'mon, just a little favor for your favorite twin brother? You can stay and make sure I don’t do anything you wouldn’t… approve of,” Jackson rolled his eyes, “you prude.”

"She's innocent," Jonathan breathed, "that's what I liked about her-- it's why I had to bring her here. You'll... you'll ruin her. I can't let you do that."

“Seems like you don’t really have a choice,” Jackson noticed, lowering his voice and leaning in closer to Jonathan.

There was a pause, and finally Jackson turned to leave the room as he patted Jonathan on the back.

"Get a good lawyer, buddy," he offered as his final piece of advice.

But before he could take another step, Jonathan relented with a sigh: “Make it quick.”

“Hey,” Jackson shrugged with a grin as he shed his jacket and tossed it aside, “no promises.”

He all but leapt onto the bed, crawling up to you as you whined and shrunk away.

“Did y’hear that, babydoll? Jonny said it’s my turn to play with you,” he purred.

As you tried to shrink away, he grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down, forcing you onto your back and keeping your tied wrists above your head as the rope when taut.

He growled as he laid on top of you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “I can make it good for you,” he breathed, “if you behave. It’ll be so much better than whatever my idiot baby brother does to you— promise.”

Jackson's hands crawled up your skirt, and he bit his lip as you kicked your legs in protest.

"Be good, baby," he warned you sharply. "Good girls get a treat... you know what bad girls get?"

You didn't seem that invested in an answer, but he continued anyways as he lowered his voice and spoke by your ear.

"Bad girls get fucked up the ass," he whispered, giving a quick little kiss to the side of your face; suddenly, you relaxed a bit under him and stopped resisting so much. "That's a good girl," he praised, spreading your legs a bit and petting them until he reached higher and found you totally bare under the dress. "Oh my, Jonny didn't even give you panties to wear? Poor baby..."

Jonathan shuddered and crossed his arms, looking away with his head and yet unable to actually look anywhere else but the bed. He was trying to figure out how his brother had gotten you to behave so quickly... when Jonathan had given in to temptation and forced himself on you, it was a constant battle to keep you down as you kicked and screamed and begged him to stop. Whether it was the sight before him now, or the memory of that night, Jonathan felt his cock twitch in his trousers.

Jackson sat up a bit, opening his own pants and sighing as he wrapped his hand around himself. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he purred as he held your legs open wide with his other hand. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart."

He spit straight down onto you, smearing it around your opening with his tip, before pressing right up to your hole. He groaned loudly as he slid inside-- one long, slow stroke as he filled you. You whined and shut your eyes tight, but otherwise resisted the urge to struggle.

"Fuuuuck," Jackson purred, holding on tight to your hips as he simply buried himself inside you for a moment. "So tight, honey, Jesus."

Beginning to move, he laid himself down over you and kissed your neck again, moaning against your skin. You whimpered, back arching slightly under him, and he smiled when he felt you tense up as he thrusted into you just a little harder.

"Oh, baby, feel how deep I am?" he grunted. "Feel how good I'm stretching out that little hole? Fuck, keep squeezin' me like that and maybe I will make this quick..."

He grabbed your hips and yanked them up a bit, holding you right where he wanted you-- and sitting up again, so he could get just the perfect angle as he started fucking into you again. Normally he would build up a little more naturally before being so rough but, well, you weren't going anywhere... he could just use you and chase his own pleasure. That said, he still grinned proudly when you moaned suddenly, your head falling back and your back arching. That was when he decided that, even though he had no real obligation to make you come, he was going to anyways-- if for no other reason than to know that he could take total control of your body, and force you to an orgasm even unwillingly.

"Right there?" he taunted as you whined, giving you fast and hard thrusts right into the place that made you bite down on your lip. "Yeah, that's it-- you're getting so wet, honey, you feel that? Gonna soak my fucking cock, aren't you?"

He tilted his head back and shut his eyes, letting himself bask in the feeling for a moment. You made little sounds, obviously trying to hold yourself back, but the longer it went on the less you were able to fight it-- soon you were properly moaning, arching your back deeper, your walls clenching on him rhythmically as you came.

"Fuck, just like that," Jackson praised as he watched you give into it. "Just like that, baby, fucking cream all over me-- good girl."

Jonathan watched in astonishment as you quivered all over, nervously clearing his throat as he tried to conceal the throbbing erection in his pants-- and it seemed to remind Jackson that his brother was still standing nearby.

"What was that about your girl being innocent, Crane?" Jackson laughed. "'Cause she seems like a desperate fucking whore to me."

“H-how’d you make her do that?” Jonathan asked with a shaky whisper, licking his lips a bit as he watched you writhe against the mattress.

“Nothing to it, really,” Jackson smiled, “just gotta find that spot and beat the hell out of it. Here, I’ll show you.”

You whimpered as Jackson pulled out and slid his fingers inside you, curling them against the place that had become more sensitive than ever.

“Right here,” he explained, “you try it.”

He took his fingers out as Jonathan approached the bed— and you felt Jonathan’s fingers slide in a second later, a bit more hesitance to his movements. He let out a wavering sigh, and Jackson smiled.

“Feel the swollen part? Rub her there— hard.”

He curled his fingers slightly and you bit your lip.

“Harder,” Jackson instructed.

“I-I don’t want to hurt her…”

“Well, she needs it rough,” Jackson laughed, “so man up and make her come!”

You yelped when Jonathan harshly pressed into the spot, making your whole body shake as he started to thrust the digits in and out of you. “Wow,” Jonathan breathed as he watched you, his brother smiling proudly next to him.

"She can probably come again pretty fast," Jackson assumed, "you should try. See how fast you can make her scream again."

Jackson, meanwhile, moved to kneel by your head, slapping your face a little to cue you to open your mouth. He groaned as he rubbed his tip over your tongue, forcing you to taste yourself alongside his salty precum.

You unintentionally clench on Jonathan's fingers, and he smiled wide. "Like that?" he asked eagerly. "Are you gonna come again?"

"Just keep doing it," Jackson urged his brother before speaking to you again. "C'mon baby, you can take a little more."

Holding your hair, Jackson started to fuck your mouth a bit more earnestly, making Jonathan frown at him after you gagged a few times. "Be careful," he warned him, "don't hurt her."

"I know, I know," Jackson rolled his eyes. "But look at that mouth, Crane, don't you think it's just made to take cock?"

Jonathan couldn't exactly disagree, he'd fantasized about your mouth plenty of times. But now, he was much more focused on your pussy-- he was watching it closely, enraptured by the way his fingers moved in and out of it... and the way it responded, gripping him tighter and tighter.

"Go on, suck it," Jackson ordered you impatiently, smacking you on the cheek again to try to encourage you. You whimpered and hollowed your cheeks, blinking up at him as he grinned down at you. "Oh, pretty eyes-- I can tell why Jonny couldn't resist you..."

You moaned again, and Jackson raised an eyebrow as he looked down for a moment at what Jonathan was doing-- which was moving his fingers faster inside you, watching you whimper and writhe as you reached the edge again.

"Show me," Jonathan begged, "come for me-- come on my fingers."

It happened pretty quickly, and Jackson let you take a break from sucking him for a second so they could both enjoy your pretty moans as you creamed around Jonathan's fingers.

"O-oh, fuck," Jonathan gasped, "I can feel her... pulsing."

"Yeah," Jackson grinned, "really something, isn't it?"

"Fuck," Jonathan said again, taking his fingers out and suddenly climbing onto the bed. "Need to feel that on my cock."

"Atta boy," Jackson praised with a laugh.

Jonathan moaned loudly as he pushed inside you, your own reaction a muffled groan around Jackson's cock which he shoved between your lips again. "Oh, god," Jonathan whined, "you feel even better than I remember, angel-- fuck, I missed you so much."

He was even more desperate and impatient than before, fucking you quickly and eagerly even though you were far too sensitive for it after coming twice in a row.

Jackson pulled back out of your mouth, but held your head steady as he stroked himself rapidly. “Gonna coat that pretty face,” he growled, “keep your mouth open, baby, I’m close…”

You whimpered and tried to keep your throat shut, afraid to choke on his come while laying back like this, and after a few more moments he groaned loudly as ropes of come fell over your face and onto your waiting tongue. You grunted a little in surprise but just tried to squint your eyes in case some got too close, but the vast majority went into your mouth or over your cheek.

"Fuck," Jackson purred, milking his cock for every drop before finally taking his hand away and sinking back, looking down at you with a new redness and sheen of sweat to his face. "Good girl. You can swallow now baby-- oh, wait, let's make sure you get it all first."

He swiped up the come on your cheek with his thumb, feeding it to you as you closed your lips and swallowed his salty spend.

"I told you good girls get a treat," he grinned.

Jonathan, meanwhile, was panting and whimpering and clearly trying to hold himself back-- but the way he held you tight enough to bruise gave away how close to the edge he really was. "I can't wait," he finally admitted with a groan. "I need to come, angel-- I need to come inside, get you pregnant. Then we can be happy together."

Suddenly, he started to rub your sore clit with his thumb; and you jolted again, pulsing around him as he sighed and dropped his head onto your shoulder.

"Fuck, beautiful-- just like that, let me feel you come again, please. Then I can fill you so deep..."

"You can make her come one more time," Jackson assured, "she's so sensitive-- go on and come for him, baby, let him feel how hard you come..."

Though Jonathan was a little irritated by the way Jackson made it seem like a favor you were doing on his behalf, he couldn't complain when he felt you coming around him, slick walls pulsing so perfectly around him that he had to come with a loud, broken moan. He kept moving until he was sure he'd given you everything, heart racing as he imagined and hoped that he'd properly bred you this time.

Then, there was a silence. Not very long, but plenty nervous as the three of you caught your breath.

"Well... mazel tov," Jackson offered with an awkward laugh, getting up off the bed and getting himself back in order. "I'll call you when it's all taken care of, Jonny. You, uh... you have fun with her, alright? Call if you need anything or, you know... feel like sharing again..."

"I wouldn't hold my breath for that, Jackson," Jonathan sighed.

"Don't miss me too much, honey," Jackson winked at you as he slipped his jacket back on. "But feel free to think about me so you can get off while this guy's fucking you," he joked, motioning to his brother with a tilt of his head.

"Don't listen to him, angel," Jonathan cooed at you as Jackson finally left the room. You shivered a little as he trailed kisses all over your face and neck, holding you a little tighter. "You're all mine-- you finally know that now, don't you?

#jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner dark smut #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane dark smut

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dearlyjun · 6 months

Text

10:47 PM ☆ k. mingyu

☆ PAIRING: nonidol!boyf!mingyu x f!reader (could potentially be considered afab as no gendered terms are used)

☆ GENRE: SMUT (18+ only please or get blocked)

☆ SUMMARY: you and your boyfriend plan to take a shower together and well, things change.

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.5k

☆ WARNINGS: making out, necklace pulling, nipple play, teeth scraping, marking, fingering, clitoral stimulation, bulge/size kink if you squint, eye contact, foul language, multiple orgasms, spitting, lots of praise from mingyu, cumming inside. mentions of aftercare!!

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: ohhhhh boy buckle up. my first svt work! idk what made mingyu my member of choice but here we are! as always be nice, feedback is always appreciated. lmk your thoughtssss.

TAGLIST LINKED IN PINNED POST!

and a big thank you to lia @miupow and ari @silvergyus for allowing me to share this with them first and tell me if it sucks! <3

“we’re wasting water, you know.” you slightly joked, tangling your fingers into mingyu’s hair as he pressed light kisses to your jaw.

the two of you had planned to take a shower together, but decided to turn on the water for it to warm up. one thing led to another and now here you were; half undressed and making out on the bathroom counter.

“that’s your fault.” mingyu spoke lowly, his face in the crook of your neck. the room was getting hot and steamy by the second as the water was still running.

His hands slipped underneath the large t shirt that you were wearing, and you let out a whimper when he started to toy with your nipples that hardened under his touch.

“mingyu.” You softly spoke his name. like a quiet plea for something, and mingyu knew exactly what it was.

He quickly pulled the shirt off of your body, and you pulled him closer to you by his necklace.

“pulling on me.” He mumbled against your mouth before kissing you deeply, his body now slotted perfectly between your legs. You ran your fingers through his hair with one hand as he kissed below your jaw; his teeth scraping you every so often.

You hummed, leaning your head back to expose your entire neck to him.

His hands were roaming, and your mind was too in a haze to follow them. Mingyu pulled the fabric of your underwear away from your cunt, immediately slipping two of his fingers inside of you.

You immediately let out a whine as Mingyu muttered ‘fuck’ under his breath. He was fucking into you with his fingers hard, practically going to his knuckles each time.

Having to hold onto his upper body with one hand; you were afraid you’d fall, but knew you couldn’t possibly hurt Mingyu no matter how hard you gripped onto him.

You happened to look down at mingyu’s fingers disappearing in and out of you; your underwear completely ruined from your arousal. with his free hand, he lifted your chin to kiss him. The kiss was soft in comparison to the way his fingers were pummeling you.

“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” His face was close to yours as he pulled his fingers out of you, moving to pull down and take off your underwear all of the way.

You hummed, allowing him to move your legs further apart even more; whimpering when his fingers were inside of you again. This time you could tell that he had three inside of you.

“Gyu….fuck. Oh my god.” You were practically seeing stars and he wasn’t even using his cock.

“I know baby, I know.” Mingyu was sort of leaning over you, his breathing heavy. “Look at me.”

You looked up at him, and he almost lost it.

“Fuck. You look so pretty.” He kissed you. “God I want to ruin you. Fuck.” He kissed you again, this time it was sloppy, his teeth hitting yours.

“I’m gonna cum, gyu. Fuck.” You whimpered; legs already starting to shake.

“I know, I know.” Mingyu was watching the way his fingers disappeared inside of you. “I can feel you clenching me; I got you.”

It crashed into you; blindsiding you. because all of a sudden you were trembling, whining Mingyu’s name over and over again. You thought you might have slipped on the counter because Mingyu suddenly put his hand against the mirror behind your head to stop you from hitting it.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu had a stupid grin on his face having rocked your world with just his fingers.

You nodded, but breathing hard. “Yeah, yeah. Want you to fuck me, gyu. Please.”

“Yeah, you can take me?” Mingyu kissed you, one of his hands sneaking down to press down onto your now over sensitive clit; making you whine.

“Yes, I always do.” You reached for his underwear, hooking your fingers underneath the waistband and maneuvering them down.

Mingyu watched your every move, hips bucking forwards when you wrapped your hand around his length; pressing your thumb against the tip that was leaking with precum.

Mingyu’s hand quickly replaced yours. “Hold your legs for me?”

You put your hands behind both of your knees, doing as mingyu said. He hummed in approval as you felt like you were nearly bent in half.

Mingyu tapped the head of his cock against your clit, then subtly sliding between your folds. Surely he was making a mess out of you. Unexpectedly, he leaned down, letting a glob of spit fall directly onto where your clit and his cock met.

A moan slipped right out of your mouth, making mingyu lock eyes with you.

“Yeah, you like that?” His voice was low as he lifted your chin up.

You hummed in response, sort of unable to form the words. Just nodding as Mingyu leaned in to kiss you.

At the same time, he pushed his cock inside of you; going slow on purpose so that you could feel every inch of him.

“Hghh…fuck.” You whined as you couldn’t even kiss him back. Your legs were shaking again as he was inside of you all of the way.

“Already shaking….” Mingyu muttered under his breath, watching where your bodies connected; he replaced your hands with his and held your legs apart.

You couldn’t protest, because he was right. He was probably going to make you cum soon.

“Mingyu. Please.” You barely finished the sentence, fighting back a moan to speak.

“Yeah, say my name.” His voice was breathy, almost slightly unsteady. “Let me hear you.”

You were desperately grabbing onto him; probably leaving marks in the path of your fingernails. It was egging him on, grunting as he was slamming into you now;knowing you enjoyed it.

“Fuck.” Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes. Mingyu must have noticed because he made you look at him again.

“Look so pretty…” He let out a slight whimper, making your cunt clench. Mingyu looked down, watching his cock move in and out of you. You followed his gaze, letting out a high pitched moan when you saw what he was looking at. “Fuck, can you feel me right there?” He pressed two fingers to your lower stomach.

You frantically nodded to appease him because he would ask again. “Yes!” You squeezed your eyes shut; not sure if your eyes were burning from sweat or tears.

“You’re so close. Clenching me so fucking good.” Mingyu’s voice had a slight whine to it; like he was going to cum almost any second.

“Feels so good, yeah.” You moaned, eyes drifting shut as Mingyu was pounding himself into you.

You moved your hand in between your legs to rub slow circles onto your clit; making your walls clench and you nearly yelped.

Mingyu grunted, watching you make yourself fall apart. Finally he pulled your hand away, replacing your fingers with his and finally you broke.

“Mingyu!” Your moan sounded more like a sob, and if Mingyu couldn’t see your face he’d think that you were crying. Your nails dug into his arms only to scrape down his biceps, making him suck a breath in through his teeth. surely he’d deal with any marks at another time.

You felt like the room was closing in on you; probably chanting Mingyu’s name over and over.

“Yeah, take it. Take it.” Mingyu grunted, watching how your body shook; shut tightly.

He grabbed your jaw, making you look at him. Mingyu kissed you softly, but moaned against your mouth before biting onto your bottom lip.

“Cum in me…” you spoke, locking eye contact with him. You knew that was his ultimate weakness.

“Yeah?” Mingyu answered, moaning loudly when you reached your hand to twirl your fingers around his chain necklace.

“Mhm.” A whine slipped out of your mouth as Mingyu seemed to be fucking into you harder than before. “Please.” You were pulling on his necklace again.

“Fuck!” Mingyu swore, slamming his cock fully inside of your cunt before cumming inside of you.

You bit down onto your bottom lip, and you were afraid to move because of how much of a mess he just made of you. When he pulled out, you winced at the feeling of him dripping out of you.

Mingyu was already looking, feeling quite satisfied himself. “Look so pretty like that; me dripping out of you.”

He used two of his fingers to try and push it back inside of you, making you let out an audible cry.

“Too much. You ruined me….im exhausted.”

“Exhausted?” Mingyu asked, brushing a few stray pieces of hair out of your face. “Now we really have to take a shower.”

“I know…but I don’t want to…wanna go to sleep.” You had a pout on your face that usually Mingyu could never say no to; this time he wasn’t backing down.

“No, no we’re going to. I’ll help you wash up, you can just stand there in the water. Then, we can turn on the tv, get into our pajamas, and watch a show in our nice warm bed.” He was kissing you in between sentences. “I can even make you a late night snack. Sound good?”

You sighed, after all you could never say no to mingyu.

“Yes, help me down okay?”

#seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader

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tightjeansjavi · 4 months

Text

The Rite of Movement | part eight

“you are the rite of movement”

A/N: wow so this is officially the longest chapter of TROM yet! I suggest you get your vibrators, dildos in check + tissues because baby love, you’re gonna need them! 😭 thank you to my sweet L @endlessthxxghts for betaing this chapter and screaming at me in Google docs over how much you love these characters! It seriously warms my heart 🥹

~word count: 11.8k~

Summary: After jokingly telling Joel that you think that Tommy may have him beat in the pussy eating department, you’re eating your words immediately. It’s a night filled with firsts and of course, lots of orgasms.

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader x pornstar!tommy

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, dom/sub vibes (heavy on the dom in this chapter) degradation kink, oral f! & male receiving, unprotected piv, denial of orgasm, edging, overstimulation, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink, aftercare, mentions of food, sexual trauma (not done by Joel), mentions of the porn industry, threesome (Joel and Tommy do not touch don’t make it weird pls) there’s a lot of vulnerable and intense sexual moments between Joel and baby love but there is immediate communication after and breaks in between, consent, intimacy, established relationship, Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in her 30’s, coming out, biphobia and aromantic phobia in the queer community, language, pet names, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

The tension in the room immediately sparked back up from the words you so innocently and breathlessly uttered. The Miller brother’s briefly made eye contact at your admittance and they too could sense the fast rising tension.

Joel’s lips hovered above yours, just barely touching. He held fierce eye contact with you, brow cocked in an almost condescending fashion, “you didn’t mean that, right baby love? M’sure you didn’t, sweet girl.” He rasped, dragging his thumb against your plush, lower lip, pressing down on it gently, “cus’ we’d have a bit of a problem on our hands if ya meant it.”

“We certainly would.” Tommy chuckled.

“Mean what?” You feigned innocence, leaning in to kiss him, but he was playing hard to get.

“You know exactly what you said, baby love. You really think Tommy can eat your pussy better than I can?”

Oh fuck.

“He did a pretty good job, daddy. He might have you beat…”

He clicked his skillful tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting his hand dip from your face and settle around the base of your throat like a necklace, “baby love…” he warned you, “I’d be careful with what you’re sayin.’”

You giggled softly, “why, daddy? You gonna get jealous if I think Tommy is better?”

“Jus’ might.” He grumbled.

“Well, I see there being only one way to determine who’s the better pussy eater.” Tommy chimed in.

You tore your gaze from Joel’s face over to Tommy’s smirking one, “what way would that be exactly?”

“Oh, just a little friendly pussy eatin’ competition. Winner gets to fuck you first.”

Joel fought the urge to scoff at his brother's suggestion. “Yeah, well, you’re at an unfair advantage cus’ of my bad back and all that. Ain’t gonna be able to kick your ass if we’re doin’ this right here, right now.”

Now the attention was turned directly back to you. Two pairs of dark brown eyes locked on your face. “I like your thinking, Tommy. Why don’t you both take me upstairs? That way Joel has a fair advantage.”

“Aw, well ain’t that sweet! Babygirl wants to make sure you get a fair advantage with your old man back. Now, if that ain’t true love, I don’t know what is!”

“Shut up, Tommy. I ain’t that old.” Joel grumbled, leaning in to brush his nose right below your pulse point. “S’that what you want, baby love? Want me and Tommy to eat your sweet little pussy and you decide who’s better at it?”

You swallowed hard, taking a sharp inhale of breath when he pressed a kiss against your pulse point, nipping it gently with his teeth. “Yeah, daddy. I want that.”

“Good girl.” He murmured against your skin, blindly reaching down to tuck himself back into his shorts.

Your legs felt like jello when Joel and Tommy stood on either side of you, helping you up from the chair. Tommy pressed a kiss to your cheek, letting it linger for a moment before he headed up the stairs first. Joel stayed back with you, bending down to grab your discarded shorts and panties. “You won’t be needin’ these for the rest of the evening, unless you wanna take a little break?” He was studying your face intently, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

“I’m okay, baby. Thank you for checking in on me. Think I’m just gonna get a glass of water. Would you like one?” You draped your arms around his middle, hugging him loosely.

“Of course, baby love. Gotta make sure my girl is enjoying herself, after all. I’d love a glass of water. I’ll pack up the leftovers real quick and then we’ll head upstairs?”

“Oh, she’s enjoying herself plenty. Dream come true, honestly.” You kissed his cheek then, dropping your arms from around his middle. But before you could slip away, he was pulling you right back in and kissing you sweetly.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” He was, truly. With past partners, both in the industry and out, there was a level of acting that Joel would find himself partaking in. Sometimes it felt genuine and natural, other times he felt awkward, but not necessarily forced. With you, there was no second guessing, no nerves or apprehension. He was simply acting upon his feelings.

After Joel finished putting away the leftovers and you grabbed yourself and him a glass of water, he followed you up the stairs, fingers playfully tickling your sides, eliciting soft giggles to slip past your lips.

Tommy had made himself comfortable on the couch pushed up against the wall while he was scrolling through his socials. He sat up at the sound of yours and Joel’s voices echoing up the stairs. “Damn. S’about time! Thought y’all were gettin’ busy down there.” He tossed his phone to the side of the couch, hopping up enthusiastically.

You made your way over to the bed, flopping down on your back, wasting no time to rid yourself of your flimsy tank top and tossed it to the side. Now you were completely naked, thighs spreading open, knees bending at a relaxed angle while your hand slowly dipped down between your parted thighs, dragging your fingers through your slick folds, gathering up the pearlescent fluid from your prior orgasm and spread it languidly around your clit with a soft, content hum. “So, which one of you boys wants to have a taste first?”

Tommy was already making his way towards the bed before Joel stopped him, giving him a firm shove with his shoulder. “You’ve had your fill.” He nearly growled, eyes set in a challenging stare, “move the fuck outta my way.”

Tommy retreated very much like a submissive dog with its tails between his legs. He held his hands up, taking a few steps back from the bed. “Someone is a little antsy.” He muttered under his breath.

Joel didn’t even hear Tommy muttering, he was zoned in on you completely as he peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side with yours. One big hand dropped between your thighs and lightly slapped your hand away, eyes narrowing on your surprised face. “Did I fuckin’ say that you could touch yourself, baby love? Actin’ like such a needy little slut for daddy, ain’t ya?” He pressed his thumb directly against your clit, rubbing the little nub in slow circles.

“I’m sorry—daddy.” You squeaked out, leaning back on your elbows for support. “Are you angry with me?”

“No, baby, course not. Jus’ think you’re a bad girl for sayin’ that Tommy can eat your pussy better than I can. Think m’gonna have you eatin’ those words right up in a few minutes.” He exudes confidence, making it very clear who is in charge here. And god, does that make you drip along the sheets with want.

“Are you sure you’re not upset with me, daddy? Because if you are…I think you should punish me, and Tommy films it.”

“Bet your slutty little pussy would love a good punishing, huh baby love? S’that what she wants?” He didn’t wait for you to respond as he leaned down, spitting a glob of saliva right over your clit, smearing it in with his thumb. “Bad girls don’t get what they fuckin’ want, baby.”

You mewled softly, thighs falling open further till you felt his calloused palms halt your movements entirely, he grasped the outside of your thighs, pushing them towards your chest. “Grab onto those for me and don’t let ‘em go.” He rasped.

You did as you were told, grabbing onto the underside of your thighs and kept your knees pressed against your chest.

“Good girl.” He preened, “how do you feel about us filmin’ this, baby love? You want that?”

“Fuck, yes, please daddy.” You didn’t even take a second to think through your answer. It was an immediate and eager yes.

He snapped his fingers, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. “Make yourself useful and grab my camera off the charger, Tommy.”

Tommy muttered something unintelligible under his breath, fighting the urge to flick his brother off as he went to grab the camera. He situated himself alongside Joel, turning the camera on and wasted no time to zoom in between your thighs just as a drool of slick dripped down from your hole.

“See that? She’s drippin’ for me. That ain’t for you.” Joel snarked.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how long that lasts.” Tommy quipped back.

The rules to the competition were simple, whoever made you cum first with just their mouths alone, would get to fuck you first. No hands, no toys, just some good ole fashion pussy eating. Joel did already have an advantage considering he knew your body like it was the back of his hand, but that didn’t rule Tommy out completely.

The prospect of the two Miller brothers beefing over you had you giggling at their competitive nature, but when you felt Joel drag his tongue from your hole and up your slit to your clit, your giggles quickly turned to soft moans. Unlike Tommy, Joel liked to take his time savoring you on his tongue. He suckled your clit between his lips, dark brown eyes peering up at you between thick lashes. He gently rolled the nub between his teeth, the sensation sent your eyes rolling back into your skull, a broken cry breaching your parted lips.

“Those are the sounds I fuckin’ love to hear from ya, baby love.” He murmured against your mound, pulling his face back to spit on your clit again, “can’t wait to fuck your sweet little needy pussy when I’m finished with ya.”

You clenched from his words, lips moving, but no coherent words left your mouth. Of course once he was really getting into it, Tommy got impatient, pushing Joel out of the way in a similar fashion that was done to him.

“My turn.” He nearly snapped as he placed the camera in Joel’s hands. “Drop your thighs for me babygirl, and spread ‘em nice and wide.” He wrapped his arms around your middle, big hands splayed across your stomach to keep you pinned down in his hold. He shot you a wink between your thighs before he got to work, using his tongue to fuck your little hole before dragging it up to your clit, flicking it at a faster pace than his brother.

When Joel felt like Tommy had enough, he forced his way right back in, pushing his brother out of the way and this time the camera ended up in your hands where you shakily filmed from your own POV while Joel brought one of your thighs over his shoulder for easier access. His mouth was becoming more aggressive, your sharp cries alerting him that you were close and he could nearly taste his victory on the horizon. This time, Tommy had nearly shoved Joel off the bed completely resulting in the two men to snap at one another between your thighs like two feral dogs fighting over a piece of meat.

The sight alone had you seeing stars behind your eyes. You let out a surprised yelp when Joel had manhandled you onto your stomach, causing you to nearly drop the camera when he pried your thighs apart with his thick fingers and buried his face between them. The slurping sounds his mouth was making was nothing short of obscene as he shook his head back and forth, his beard scraped against your inner thighs as you arched your back and ass into his face.

“O—oh fuck! Joel! FUCK!” You cried out, thighs beginning to tremble and quiver, the coil in your stomach was pulled impossibly tight and threatening to snap at any given moment.

“That’s it, baby love. Good fuckin’ girl. Want you to come all over daddy’s face. You know who the winner is, sweet girl. It’s your fuckin’ daddy.” He growled possessively against your pussy as you rocked your hips back against his face.

He pulled back from between your thighs with a triumphant smirk plastered on his face at the sight of your release slowly dripping from your hole and down the inside of your thigh. He reached around for the camera, gently removing it from your hands and brought it up close to your leaking pussy, “fuckin’ look at that. Drippin’ all over the goddamn sheets, baby love.” He preened.

“Guess I shoulda thought about eating her out from behind before you did, huh brother?” Tommy snorted alongside him, leaning over to grab both of your cheeks and spread them open so they both could see your pussy slowly pulse and push out another trail of slick.

“I—I need a minute.” You breathed out and slowly let your stomach come to rest along the comforter as you caught your breath, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Joel flipped the camera off, setting it off to the side of the bed before he crawled up alongside you, Tommy settled in behind you while Joel gently lifted your face from the comforter to rest it along his lap. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles while Tommy was nuzzling his face against the nape of your neck, pressing a few kisses to your skin while his hand curved around your ass, gently massaging the plump flesh between his fingers.

“That—that was something.” You finally spoke again, glancing up at Joel while his fingers were now giving your head a gentle massage, blunt nails scratching at your scalp in a soothing motion.

“We know, baby love. You did so good for us.” Joel cooed, “We don’t have to do anything else tonight if you just wanna rest.”

“No—no. I want you both to fuck me.” You shook your head, curling your fingers around his bare knee, “and the rules were that whoever makes me cum first gets to fuck me first. So, daddy. What are you waiting for?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, “baby love, you’re truly jus’ the sweetest thing. Ain’t she, Tommy?”

“Mhm” Tommy rumbled behind you, his fingers had slipped down between your cheeks, gently gliding his fingers through your slick folds to keep you stimulated. “She sure is a sweet thing.”

“How about you give him a little bit of sugar while daddy goes and sets up the cameras. How’s that sound, baby love? I bet he would love it if you sucked his cock. Give him a little bit of lovin.’”

You lazily grinned up at him before slowly sitting up and glanced over your shoulder at Tommy. “You were a close second.” You reassured him and reached behind you to palm him through his shorts, “Joel’s right, you deserve a little bit of sugar, too.”

“Thanks, babygirl, but Joel had me beat from the start.” He chuckled, “M’never one to turn down receiving a bit of sugar.” He grinned, shooting you a playful wink as he slipped his hand out from between your thighs and rolled over onto his back to shimmy his shorts down over his hips.

You stayed resting on your stomach, ankles crossed behind your head, as you scooted southwards along the bed. His cock sprung free, gently slapping against his stomach. His pubes, including his balls, were shaved completely compared to Joel. A small detail that you didn’t notice the first time you and Tommy fucked. You wrapped your fist around the base of his cock, giving the soft, velvety skin a few slow tugs before you leaned over and left a few kitten licks across his tip. He let out a soft grunt of approval, tilting his head back as you slipped the crown of his cock past your lips, sucking sweetly on it.

Joel was preoccupied with maneuvering himself around the room, setting up multiple cameras and messing with the lighting and such.

“Christ, brother.” Tommy sharply inhaled. “Your girl sure has a sweet mouth on her, fuck.”

“Mhm. She sure does. Best head I’ve ever fuckin’ had.” Joel mused, setting up the final camera to face the bed on the side that you were laying on. Once the camera was set, he leaned over the side of the bed, thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone. Even with your mouth stuffed with Tommy’s cock, he could tell you were smiling.

“Bein’ such a good sweet lil’ cockslut for Tommy. Ain’t ya, baby love? Probably s’a nice break for your pretty throat.” He snickered.

All you could do was dumbly nod at his question, taking Tommy’s cock deeper down your throat as he let out a deep grunt, thick fingers curling around the crown of your head. “Fuck, yeah. Such a pretty sight gettin’ to watch your girl suck on my cock like this.” He gently pressed down on your head, silently encouraging you to take more of him down your throat till your nose was pressing against his pubic bone, “seriously, could just lay here for fuckin’ hours.”

Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes at his brothers goading as he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the back of your head, whispering, “suckin’ on his cock so prettily, got daddy here nearly leakin’ through his shorts.”

He pulled back slowly, addressing his brother directly, “yeah, well, you ain’t about to steal away all the fun from me, Tommy.” He snipped.

You whimpered softly around Tommy’s cock, drool pooling around the corners of your mouth as you gagged around him, giving yourself a moment to breathe as you slowly pulled your mouth off from his cock with a wet pop!

“Relax, Joel.” Tommy chided, “I wouldn’t dream of takin’ that away from you.”

“C’mere, daddy.” You beckoned him sweetly as you sat up on your knees, scooting over to the edge of the bed as you reached for the hem of his shorts, “wanna gag on your cock again. Get it all nice and wet before you fuck me.” You grasped the hem of his shorts, pulling the elastic back before letting it playfully snap against his hips.

Your eagerness to please him sent blood flowing southwards between his thighs as he leaned over and grasped your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting it upwards so you were looking up at him. “Yeah, baby love? That’s what my eager little cockslut wants, is daddy's cock stuffed down her pretty little throat?” He mused, lips curving into a grin as his thumb gently swiped through a stray strand of drool that was glistening on the corner of your lips.

You nodded dumbly, eyes bright, nearly twinkling under his gaze as you reached for the hem of his shorts once more, leaning in closer, “yeah, daddy.” You cooed, “I want to suck on yours and Tommy’s cock…at the same time. I want to be a good little cockslut for both of you. Do you want that, too?”

It was at that moment that Joel fucking Miller not only forgot his own name, but his birthday and his age. His brain short-circuited, pulse rushing fast in his ears. He nodded, swallowing hard as he regained his composure, “y-yeah.” He stuttered, “fuck—yeah, baby love.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tommy snickered. “You damn near broke my brother, babygirl.”

Something indescribable flashes across your lover's eyes when you teasingly pull his hard cock free, beckoning him to come closer with a simple curl of your fingers, and that devious glint in your eyes.

“Get to it then.” He snips, surprisingly both you and himself at his sudden change of tone.

Tommy immediately picks up on the obvious shift in the room, and opts to fall into his submissive role beneath his brother. When he opens his mouth to speak, Joel shushes him.

“No. You ain’t gettin’ outta this. She wants to suck both our cocks like a good fuckin’ slut and that’s what she’s gonna do, and then I’m goin’ split her apart with my fuckin’ cock and you’re gonna watch and patiently wait for your turn.”

“Daddy—” you start, but Joel isn’t having any of it when he bends over to the side of the bed where you’re sitting back on your thighs looking up at him expectantly. His big, meaty hand comes to grasp your chin, yanking your head upwards as he leans down further, asserting his dominance, “zip it, baby love. Don’t wanna hear a peep from you. Jus’ the pretty sounds your mouth makes when you’re chokin’ on daddy’s cock, you got that?”

“Yes—”

He shakes his head, applying a bit of pressure to your jaw, causing your eyes to widen slightly. “What did I just fuckin’ say? Not a peep. Nod your head if you understand what daddy’s sayin’ to ya.”

You dumbly nod your head in tandem, squeezing your thighs together from his authoritative nature taking over.

“Atta girl. That’s a good cockslut. Now, open up that pretty mouth for daddy and put it to some good fuckin’ use, baby love.”

Your mouth falls open on command, and maybe a bit of shock as well. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to see Joel’s dominant side more often. You loved when he called you a slut, his slut, his whore, his to take. Did this make you a bit of a masochist? Maybe, but that meant fuck all to you when you obediently stuck your tongue out, awaiting his cock.

A satisfied smirk crossed his handsome features at your willingness to obey. It had been years since his time at Brazzers, and even in Miller-Co his partners before you preferred sex with him to be vanilla, and sometimes he would sprinkle in a little dash of dominance, but nothing quite like the display he was putting on now. A phase of him that once laid dormant, was quickly reawakening right before your very eyes. As if a switch inside of him was flipped on, whirring to life.

He grasped the base of his heavy cock between his fist, guiding the fat cockhead to rest along your tongue.

“Wider.” He rasps as he slowly begins to feed you his cock, watching tears spring to the corner of your eyes when he forces you to stretch your jaw further around the thick girth of him. “That’s it.” He preens, “you can fuckin’ take it. You can take all of me down that pretty little throat. Gonna have you chokin’ and droolin’ all over daddy’s fat fuckin’ cock, baby love.”

his freehand comes to rest along the back of your head, nails scraping at your scalp when the tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat. You gag around him, drool leaking from the edges of your stretched mouth as you try to pull back for air, but he doesn’t allow you. “No.” He sternly chides, brows furrowed as he looks down at you, “Breathe through your nose, baby love. You’re doin’ so good for daddy.” A brief moment of softness, and a reminder to you that you were safe. This wasn’t Brazzers, this was your Joel.

Your nostrils flare at his words, tears beginning to spill over your waterline, not due to being in any physical pain, but more-so for the fact that this is an incredibly intense moment for you both to be experiencing.

“That’s it.” He coos, “relax your jaw. Relax, baby love. You’re safe.” He loosens his grip around your head, tenderly stroking your hair in a soothing motion. “That’s my girl.”

Tommy captures the whole thing on camera. From your drool trailing down your chin and throat, to the girth of his cock stretching your mouth open, to the way that you and Joel are looking at one another through your tears. An intense gaze that neither party breaks. You’ve never trusted anyone in your life like you trust your Joel.

You breathe through the discomfort, dragging your nose through the thatch of curls at the base of his cock, lashes fluttering, eyes rolling back when he slowly juts his hips into your face in a gentle rocking motion. He does this for a few thrusts before he finally releases you, slipping his cock out of your mouth as you gasp for air.

His big palms come to rest along your cheeks, wiping away your tears and shushing you with soft praises. Just as he expected, you’re hungry for more, feeling a newfound confidence wash over you as you reach for both of their cocks. The two brothers exchange a brief glance at one another as you take Tommy’s cock into your mouth, wrapping your fist around Joel’s cock to keep him stimulated.

What a sight you are, sitting prettily on your knees, eyes still glassy from the tears you shed around Joel’s cock. Tommy holds the camera between his hands, getting a close up of your mouth working around him, staring directly into the lens with that sultry gaze. Your pussy is drooling for attention, pulsing at the prospect of getting fucked very, very soon.

The room is heady and coated in a fine layer of sex-induced haze that hangs around the three of you like a cloak. Joel is the first to make a move when he feels that you’ve had enough of Tommy’s cock down your throat and pulls you back to him.

You can’t deny how much you’re enjoying being a little fuck toy for the two Miller Brothers, your throat now stuffed full of Joel’s cock as your fist works around Tommy’s. When you feel like you need a breather, you slip Joel’s cock from your mouth, a translucent thread of saliva dangles from the tip of his cock all the way to your glistening lips.

Now with one hand around Tommy, and one hand around Joel, you rub their cock heads all over your cheeks, lightly slapping yourself with the smooth velvet skin with a cockdrunk look plastered all over your pretty face.

“That’s it. That’s the fuckin’ shot of the century right there.” Tommy chuckles, “we got ourselves the prettiest little cockslut on her knees for us, brother.”

“My cockslut.” Joel doesn’t hesitate to correct him. “My pretty little cockslut who is gonna be stuffed fuckin’ full of daddy’s cum soon.” He rasps, shooting you a subtle wink from above.

Your eyes roll back from his words, spreading your knees further apart in a desperate attempt to grind your pussy along the mattress for any form of relief. You’re aching for any attention, and your Joel revels in the sight of you looking like this.

“Please, Daddy. Please.” Are the only words you’re able to get out as you roll your hips against the mattress.

“Please what, baby love? Look at you,” he coos, “filthy lil’ thing rubbing your sweet cunt all over the mattress like a fuckin’ desperate cockslut. Need your pussy stuffed that bad, baby? S’that it? Need daddy’s cock so bad?”

Oh.

You didn’t expect your Joel to be so…mean and condescending, but you welcomed it eagerly with a swift nod of your head.

“‘Atta girl.” He smirks. “Now, drop Tommy’s cock, baby love and come to daddy.” He demands, curling one of his broad fingers at his side in a come hither motion.

You work on autopilot, dropping Tommy’s cock from your grasp and focusing all your attention on Joel.

“Fuckin’ spit on it, baby love. Spit all over daddy’s fat cock and get it nice and wet for me with that pretty mouth of yours. Don’t think we’re gonna need extra lubrication with the way your pussy is droolin’ all over the goddamn mattress.” He snickers. “But just for the hell of it.”

You waste no time to spit a glob of saliva all over his fat cockhead, watching in a transfixed gaze when he wraps his own fist around himself, smearing in your saliva with his precum. “Good girl, baby love. S’good for daddy. M’gonna reward you now, okay?”

You nod expectantly, briefly glancing over at Tommy who is leisurely stroking his own cock to keep himself hard and stimulated while he would patiently wait his turn to fuck you after his brother.

“Thank you, daddy.” You let out a relieved sigh thinking that he finally was going to give you his cock and stretch you open.

“Wouldn’t go thankin’ me so soon, baby love. Haven’t given ya nothin’ yet.” He reminds you with a stern look that sends your heart racing. “Now, on your back for me. Spread your thighs so daddy can see that pretty soaked pussy. Wanna see all of her.”

There’s a soreness and slight ache in your jaw that you haven’t felt in years up until now. Remnants of your tears stained your cheeks in a salty trail. Joel can see the gears turning in your head, the flicker of emotions behind your eyes. You’re not afraid…it’s more of an apprehension if anything as you reach one hand up to gently rub the soreness in your jaw.

Joel clocks in on your discomfort, glancing over at his brother before he leans over and murmurs something to him. Tommy nods in understanding, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pads out of the room, his heavy cock bobbing between his thighs.

“Baby love, you doin’ okay?” Joel softly asks as his hands gently slide up the expanse of your thighs, easing you onto your back. “…Am I bein’ too much? Baby, I can dial it back, okay? I shoulda—”

“Joel.” You sigh softly, meeting his softened and concerned gaze, “I’m okay, baby. I’m just…feeling a lot right now.”

“I can tell.” He nods in understanding. “Can see it in your eyes, my sweet girl. That’s why we’re gonna take a breather.”

You attempt to sit up on your elbows, feeling shame creep its way up your spine. You’re afraid now, afraid that you’ve disappointed him so soon. That silly brain of yours can be so fucking mean sometimes and you truly wish that you could just turn it off, especially in a moment like this.

“No—no, it’s fine, Joel. I’m fine.” You weakly argue, attempting to put up a façade that he immediately sees right through.

“You ain’t, and that’s okay. I can see the fuckin’ gears whirring in your brain right now, baby.” His argument is soft spoken, not meant to further upset you as his fingers gently play with the tuft of damp curls above your mound.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you, okay? I know it seems silly, but I just feel so fucking vulnerable right now.” There’s a moment of relief and weight lifted off your shoulders when you finally put your feelings into words. You’re half expecting a snarky remark with a clipped tone. He can feel you tense up, thighs growing stiff as an unpleasant shiver runs down your spine.

“If you think that this is about to turn into a therapy session where you make everyone in the room to take pity on you, you’re dead fucking wrong, girl. You honestly think your feelings matter? They don’t. Not in this industry, and you knew this when you signed up. No one here is gonna wipe your tears, so I suggest you wipe them yourself and suck it up. You want to get paid, don’t you? Good. The sooner you quit your whining, the sooner you can ice your jaw.”

You can hear the director at Brazzers snapping in your ear now after you tapped out from a gangbang scene that got too intense. Making you feel worse than you already do. But you were young, fresh to the industry and you thought that maybe you could handle it, but the truth was…you couldn’t.

Joel’s eye begins to twitch, his hand on your thigh flexes, knuckles growing tight when he imagines the degradation and cruelty you faced at Brazzers. It split his heart right down the middle, tearing it by the seams when he hears the pain in your tone, and your fear that you have disappointed him. This couldn’t be further from the truth; you could never disappoint him.

“Baby love, you could never disappoint me, okay? Never. Not in a million fuckin’ years. You just being here in this moment with me, is all I can ever ask for, okay? If you’re feeling scared right now, I need you to tell me. If I’m being too much, too aggressive, too dominant, please tell me, okay?”

“My jaw just really fucking hurts.” You blurt out, masking your words with a forced laugh.

“I know it does, baby. Tommy’s getting you some ice, okay? We don’t have to do that again.”

You sit up finally, grasping him by his broad shoulders and pull him up your body so he’s straddling your hips. “I’m not scared, Joel. You’re not being too much, okay? I actually really love to see this dominant side of you, baby.” You press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I want to do that again because I trust you, and want to have these experiences with you.”

“…You do?” He sounds unsure of himself as he kisses you back, winding his arms around your waist as he gently lifts you into his lap, his cock is still hard and wedged between your stomachs. “I won’t dial it back then, but I just want you to know that I’m not going to push you past your limits, but I will always encourage you to go further because I know that you can. I think back to when we first met and you were so fuckin’ scared over how I would react to the list of things that you were uncomfortable doing, and how from that point forward, i’ve wanted to show you that those painful, and fucked up experiences at Brazzers can be turned into something…liberating for you.” He murmurs, tightening his grip around you.

“Baby, I think it’s so fucking sexy that you’re becoming more familiar and comfortable with your dominate side. I like calling you daddy, and I’m really into you calling me a little cockslut and whatever else that dirty mind of yours conjures up. Joel, I feel so safe with you. The safest I have ever felt with any partner. You inspire me to be more open, to feel less shameful of my feelings and dealing with my trauma. You’re literally my fucking rock, you know that?”

Before your Joel can even process your genuine words and utter out a reply, Tommy has returned, clearing his throat to make his presence known as he leans against the doorjamb with a bag of frozen peas in his hand. “Hey, princess.” He cracks a comforting grin, “couldn’t find an ice pack, but I figured frozen peas would do the trick? Oh, and you’re insanely fucking good at deepthroating—my god.” He gushes earnestly.

You stifle a giggle, looking over Joel’s shoulder. “You’re not just saying that to fuck with me, right Tommy? Am I really that good?”

He laughs, pushing himself off the side of the door before he joins the two of you on the bed. “Babygirl, I am a man who never lies. You’re head game is un-fucking-real.”

“He’s right, baby love. You were chokin’ on daddy’s cock like a pro.” Joel adds with a reassuring smile. “M’so proud of you, baby love. Always so proud of my girl.”

You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at both of their praises as your confidence slowly begins to return. You press a chaste kiss to Joel’s lips before reaching over his shoulder for the bag of peas.

Joel kisses you back, keeping you secured in his arms as you ice the sore spot on your jaw. Both he and Tommy are beyond considerate and patient and you truly couldn’t be anymore grateful than you feel right now.

Once the soreness in your jaw has considerably dissipated, you hand the now half frozen peas back to Tommy and wind your hand through the back of Joel’s sweaty curls, kissing him with more conviction, “okay, daddy. I’m ready for you to split me open with your cock now. I can take it, I want to take it. Want you to give me your worst.” You mumble against his lips, feeling his cock jump between your pressed bodies from your lewd verbiage.

“Oh, daddy’s gonna give you his fuckin’ worst, alright.” He growls, kissing you deeper while his hands slide under your ass, squeezing the soft flesh of your cheeks firmly. “Gonna make you beg for daddy’s cock, baby love.”

The room feels hot, ten times hotter than it’s ever felt as Joel purposely edges you with his cock, pressing the girth of him inside of you before he draws his hips back out. You’re a sobbing, blubbering mess, soaked in sweat. Each time he thrusts into you, his cockhead punches your cervix and it’s a torturous pattern that leaves your thighs quivering at the angle they’re spread at.

Tommy is kneeled behind your head, camera between his hands again while your hand is wrapped loosely around his cock, stroking it at an erratic pace as your back bows from the mattress, hips rolling forward to meet Joel’s periodic thrusts.

“D—daddy, please! Please—fuck.” You let out a whine. You sound so desperate, so needy to come, and you’re right where Joel wants you.

“Aw cute.” He coos in a condescending tone, “You think you’re just gonna get what you want jus’ cus’ you asked daddy so nicely? That’s not how this works, baby love. You’re gonna take whatever daddy fuckin’ gives ya, and you’re gonna act grateful for daddy’s cock.”

“Better listen to him, babygirl.” Tommy warns you from above. “Think you mighta bruised his ego earlier.”

Your eyes flit upwards to meet Tommy’s smirking gaze before they land back on Joel, right down to where he has one hand gripping the inside of your thigh, keeping it pressed open to his liking, and the other rests around the base of his cock. He’s only rewarding you with half of his girth, pulling out completely when he feels your pussy clench down around him. He knows you’re so fucking close, and yet he refuses to allow you the satisfaction to come.

“But—but daddy!” You sob, “you said you weren’t upset with me for saying that Tommy might have you beat! Daddy, please! I’m sorry! Please just let your good girl come.” You begged him.

“Yeah, well, daddy might have lied earlier, baby love. Daddy’s ego is a little bruised over the fact that his perfect girl would even think that Tommy can eat her sweet little pussy better than I can.” He chuckles, eyes casting downwards to your tight little hole pulsing around air as he rubs his wet cockhead all over your puffy clit. “You misunderstood, baby love. Daddy isn’t upset, he’s just a little…angry s’all.”

Your eyes roll back from the sensation, letting out another pathetic sob when he taps his cockhead a few times against your already sensitive clit causing your hips to jolt upwards. “Daddy, I’m so sorry! Please, daddy. I promise I’ll be a good little cockslut for you! I’ll never make a silly comment like that again! You’re the best, daddy.”

“Oh, baby.” He sighs, almost as if he does pity you, “I don’t think you are sorry at all, baby love. And I don’t think you’re grateful for daddy’s cock and what he’s giving you.” He tuts, shaking his head. “Tommy, do you think she’s bein’ grateful right now?”

“Not at all, brother. She’s bein’ an ungrateful little slut.” He taps the side of your cheek with his cock. “So fuckin’ ungrateful.”

“No—no! That’s not true! Daddy, I am so grateful for your cock! I am!” You try to sound convincing, but Joel is unimpressed.

“Thas’ all Y’got for me, baby love? Mmm. I think you need a little encouragement.” He decides as he slips his cock back into your tight, hugging warmth all the way to the hilt. Punching the air from your lungs as you gasp his name.

Your words come out fragmented and broken when he suddenly draws his hips back and thrusts them forward without warning, knocking your body back against the mattress. He does this again, and again. Each thrust increases in speed till he’s jackhammering you into the mattress, shaking the frame against the wall with how much force he’s exerting. His one hand stays firmly clamped around your thigh while the other is splayed against your mound, thumb firmly pressed into your clit, working it in fast, vigorous circles.

“Tell daddy that you’re grateful for his cock, baby love! Tell him that you’re grateful for everything that he’s givin’ you! Cause if you don’t? Daddy will pull out right now, and you don’t fuckin’ get to come.” His voice is gravelly, scratching your eardrums just right with how primal he sounds.

“I—I’m so grateful for your cock, daddy! S-so grateful! Thank you, daddy! Thank you!”

“Yeah, thas’ right, baby love. Thas’ fuckin’ right. Perfect little cockslut is so-so grateful for her daddy’s cock. Fuck yeah, you are.” He grunts deeply, giving you one last solid thrust before he slips out completely. You don’t even get a chance to recover before you’re being flipped over onto your stomach by a new set of hands.

Tommy grips you firmly by the hips, yanking your ass upwards as your face falls flat against the mattress. He fists his cock a few times and uses his thumb and forefinger to guide his cock into you, watching the way your body immediately sucks him until his length is fully inside of you and his hips are firmly pressed against your ass. “Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, babygirl.” He preens as he draws his hips back before thrusting them forward.

Your mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape, eyes glazed over and blissed out completely. Joel watches from behind the camera as Tommy grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head backwards, forcing you to push yourself up on your forearms.

Joel intently watches the way your ass recoils against Tommy’s hips with each heavy, skin slapping thrust that he delivers you. His voice is still commanding, even when he’s not directly next to you.

“You take his cock so well, baby love. Fuckin’ love seein’ you gettin’ fucked like this. You gonna come all over his cock? Yeah, you are. Only when daddy tells you too, right?”

Your head snaps over in his direction, a fucked out smile tugging across your lips when you meet his gaze, “y—yes, daddy. Only when you tell me too.”

“Thas’ it. There’s my good little obedient cockslut.” He grins proudly, even giving you a cheeky little thumbs up before you're lost in the moment all over again. And when Joel gives you the permission to come, you’re gushing around Tommy’s cock on command. You don’t moan Tommy’s name, however. Oh, no. The only words you can form are daddy.

Tommy slips out, letting your body flop to the mattress like a limp fish before his hands pry your cheeks apart so he can watch your release pulse and drool down the seam of your pussy. He moves out of the way when Joel approaches the bed and hands the camera off to his brother before his calloused hands are gently maneuvering you onto your back.

“Baby love, I wanna try somethin’ with you, okay? Are you up for it, or is my girl positively fucked out now?” He asks teasingly, gently pinching your hips between his fingers.

You let out a squeal, lazily moving to swat his hands away when he pinches your skin. “Mmm…I’m so fucked out right now, daddy, but what do you want to try?”

He drops his hands from your hips and rests them between the apex of your thighs so his thumbs can spread your inner lips open, “wanna make you squirt, baby love. I know you were told before that you couldn’t, but that’s not true. You can, and I’m going to get you there but only if you want to, okay?”

“Y—you want to make me squirt? Daddy…I—I can’t. They told me I couldn’t and I believed them. I love you, I really do. But I can’t.”

“Baby love, you can. The only reason why you couldn’t before is because there was a mental block you were facing. You weren’t with the right people at the time. It wasn’t even your fault that you were fired, okay? Those fuckwads didn’t care enough to cater to your needs, but I’m here. I want you to experience this because it’s so fuckin’ special, baby. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before.” Joel reassures you.

“And I’m gonna be your personal cheerleader, babygirl. Gonna hype you up the whole time, okay?” Tommy says from behind the camera, kneeling on the opposite side of where Joel is positioned between your thighs. “You can even hold my hand, if ya want.” He adds gently.

“What if you’re wrong, daddy? What if I truly can’t? What if they were right and—”

“Shh.” He says softly, eyes locking onto yours in a gentle yet intense stare, “they weren’t right, baby love. They were just a bunch of jackasses that couldn’t see your potential like I can. And you know what? This ain’t about me. This is about you gaining back your autonomy that they fuckin’ stole from you. You trust me, don’t you? Let me do this for you, please.”

“Joel.” Your voice waivers, fresh brewing tears threatening to spill over, Of course I trust you. I—I want to prove them wrong. I want to prove myself wrong.”

“That’s my girl. That’s my fuckin’ girl.” He preens.

It starts off with just two of his fingers; middle and ring finger knuckle deep, curling and shallowly thrusting inside of you. It’s not enough, but Joel doesn’t give up. He orders Tommy to grab one of your favorite toys, a hitachi wand. Joel uses his freehand to turn it to the lowest setting before gently placing it directly against your clit. The sensation is immediately too much and your body is naturally trying to escape, but Joel keeps your hips centered and on the mattress.

“I got you, baby love, daddy’s got you. You’re doing so good for me already. So-so fuckin’ good.”

You’re a mess of moans, a mixture of dripping profanities as you claw at the sheets, feeling your thighs begin to quiver and shake all over again. The feeling is more intense, more real than anything you have felt in this setting before. The coil in your stomach is pulled tighter, and tighter, and tighter.

Tommy reaches for one of your hands, letting your clammy fingers interlock through his as you grip onto him for dear life.

“I—can’t, daddy! It’s too much! Please—it’s too much!” You sob, tears making their way down your cheeks for what feels like the millionth time tonight. You’re surely going to need to hydrate extra after this.

“Yes you can, baby love! You can! I believe in you, Tommy believes in you. You’re so fuckin’ close I can feel it now. Can’t you? The burning hot coil being pulled tight in your tummy? Can’t you feel that?” He asks over the whir and buzz of the vibrator and the wet squelch of your pussy around his fingers, crooking them inwards. Your hips jolt, and you let out a scream that hopefully Joel’s neighbors can’t hear. It’s a scream not of pain, but relief, releasing all of your self-doubt and negativity that you had felt ever since you were wrongfully fired from Brazzers.

Joel Miller was showing you just how fucking amazing your body was, and the limits it could be pushed to. He was proving to you that there wasn’t anything you possibly couldn’t do. No challenge you couldn’t face. Fuck what Brazzers thought about you, or the judgement from your parents and the societal pressure you faced every single day as a woman. Your body was beautiful, powerful, and capable.

“There you go, baby! There you go!” Your Joel announced in excitement, his heart swelling with nothing but pride for his baby love. “Let go, my girl. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” He promised, crooking his fingers faster till he felt your body spasm, and a gush of wet spray coated his hand, forearm and everywhere in between.

Your ears were ringing, mind going fuzzy and Joel’s and Tommy’s voices sounded muffled as you saw stars dot your vision. Once your body started, you couldn’t stop even after Joel slipped his fingers out of you and tossed the vibrator off to the side, your pussy continued to squirt along the mattress till there was nothing left.

He was right, Joel was always right. Squirting for the first time was like nothing you had experienced before, and it felt so fucking liberating.

You faintly felt his warm lips between your thighs, lips suckling on your clit before they kissed their way up your body. Your eyes were half open when his hands cradled your face between them, thumbs stroking and brushing away your free falling tears. “You did it, my girl. I knew you could do it.” He whispered, sweat slick forehead pressed against your own, “m’so fuckin’ proud of you, baby love. So proud.”

Tommy flipped the camera off, setting it down on the nearby table before he left the room to give you and Joel a moment of privacy, and to grab some much deserved refreshments and snacks.

Joel gently eased you into his lap, letting you melt into his arms as you let out a wet sob with your face buried into the juncture of his neck. Your whole body was shaking as you clawed at his back while his strong hands gently rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Let it all out. I got you.” He murmured against your sweat soaked hair as he held you close.

“Did I really…?” You murmured into his neck, loosening your grip around him.

“You did, baby love. You did so well.” He whispered, gently beginning to rock you in his arms to further soothe you as you gradually came down from your high.

“Thank you, daddy. I-I love you so much.” You sniffled, pulling your face back from his neck so you could look into his eyes.

“No need to thank me, baby love. That was all you. I was jus’ there to help get you there. I love you so much, my sweet girl.”

You shook your head, disagreeing with his sentiment but before you could speak, he shushed you with a kiss. How could you really argue with him, then?

Tommy returned with three waters and a candy bar for you, flopping down on the bed with a soft oof.

The three of you sat in a comfortable silence while Joel made sure you were hydrated and even fed you small pieces of the candy bar so that you wouldn’t immediately have a sugar crash.

The two brothers exchanged a murmur of words before Joel untangled your limbs from his own and coaxed you up from the bed. He stayed glued to your side as he guided you to the bathroom and all the way into the shower. He made sure the temperature of the stream was just how you liked it.

He gently washed between your thighs, knowing how sensitive you were still feeling and didn’t want to overdo it. You loved that he was always so adamant on aftercare. It might have actually been his favorite part outside of being connected inside of your body. He loved to provide and take care of you in these especially intimate moments.

“How’s my girl feeling?” He asked with a soft rasp under the warm stream.

“Like I’m floating on a cloud.” You giggled softly, winding your arms around his neck. “My pussy feels a little numb though, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, wrapping his arms around you with his hands resting gently at your lower back, “that’s to be expected. She took a real poundin’ tonight. You’re gonna sleep like a fuckin’ baby soon.” He added with a warm chuckle.

“Fuck.” You laughed, “don’t I know it. I can probably sleep for days after that.”

“Tommy is outside startin’ a fire for us. Told him to grab one of my joints from the garage. I Figured you’d enjoy decompressing after all that.” He reached one hand up to gently rest it along the side of your head as he pulled you in closer.

“You know me too well, daddy. That sounds absolutely perfect to me.”

He grins boyishly at your response, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. “I’ll meet y’all down there in a bit, okay? Gonna finish up here and strip the sheets.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks when he mentioned the now soiled sheets as your teeth briefly knocked together in the wet kiss. “Sorry about that…I didn’t think it would be that much.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. They’re just sheets, baby love. No need to worry.” He reassured you, deepening the kiss briefly before he slowly pulled away.

“I still can’t believe I was actually able to squirt. It feels so fucking validating that after all these years I now know that I never was the problem. I cannot thank you enough for showing me that they were wrong, Joel. I—I wish I had the words to explain how grateful I am for you.”

“Of course they were wrong, baby love. They never deserved you in the first place. You don’t need to explain how grateful you are, okay? I feel it…here.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it along the left side of his chest, right against his heart.

“You’re going to make me cry again, asshole!” You said playfully, kissing him again just because you could.

He laughed into your lips, bringing his freehand to rest around your face as he kissed you again, and again, and again. “I’m jus’ speaking the truth, baby love.”

“I know, baby. You’re the most honest man I know. Well, outside of Tommy.”

You and Joel part ways after showering. He heads back into the studio room while you walk to your shared bedroom to change into something comfy for the rest of the evening. You snatch one of his hoodies, slipping it over your head before grabbing a fresh pair of his boxer briefs and pull them on over your hips and ass.

When you step outside into the backyard, Tommy is already puffing away on the joint he rolled while he uses a spare stick to stoke the fire. He smiled warmly at you, beckoning you over to join him on the outdoor couch.

“There she is. Lil’ miss squirtin’ queen!” He teases as you plop down beside him, giving his shoulder a gentle push.

He passes the joint off to you between his fingers, letting his arm rest behind your head along the back of the couch. “How are ya feeling?”

“Honestly?” You look over at him as you take a long drag, tucking your feet up under your thighs to get comfortable, “I feel like I can conquer the whole fucking world right now.”

“Fuck yeah, you can! Women are soo fucking powerful, babygirl. Y’all are truly some forces to be reckoned with!”

You blow the smoke upwards into the clear night sky, resting your head against his shoulder before passing the joint back to him. “I just feel so…free right now Tommy, y’know? I don’t even know how to put it into words.”

“Girl, you literally soaked the entire fuckin’ mattress. You should feel as free as a bird right now! I know Joel is proud of you, but I am too. I remember the first time I made a girl squirt waaay back in the good ole’ Brazzer’s days. Shit was so intense and the chick I was fuckin’ literally said that she was in love with me! Ain’t that crazy?”

“Aw, Tommy, thank you. I’m really glad that you were there to experience it with me. And shit, no way? Did you tell her that you loved her back?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, clearing his throat as he ashed the joint off to the side, “I uh—I really didn’t know what to say. Felt terrible after the fact because she started to profusely apologize…and I guess I didn’t understand why? I mean, it slipped out in the heat of the moment, man. I don’t think she meant it.”

I really hope she didn’t.

You sat up, focusing your attention on him fully when you could feel his tone shift to somewhere uncertain. “Hey, are you okay?…is there something you want to talk about? I’m here for you, okay?”

He let out a dry laugh shaking his head before he looked over at you finally. “Yeah, there is somethin’ I wanna talk to you about. I jus’ don’t know how to phrase it.”

“Take your time, Tommy. There’s no rush.”

“Okay so, Joel doesn’t know about this yet because I really don’t know how to tell him, but one of my long term onscreen partners is planning on quitting Miller-Co entirely…because of me.” Tommy nervously chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“Tommy, what do you mean someone at Miller-Co wants to quit because of you? What…happened?” Tommy was a good guy in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine him ever making someone feel uncomfortable or god forbid—

“It ain’t bad, okay? I promise I didn’t do anythin’ bad.” He took a deep breath, exhaling before continuing, “so, it started with her starting to make comments about you and Joel and the dynamic of your relationship. She didn’t say nothin’ bad, I promise. She er—was hintin’ that she wanted to be in a relationship with me essentially?”

“Oh.” You said softly, beginning to understand where this conversation was potentially leading into. “I’m assuming you didn’t feel the same way as she did?”

“No.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t feel the same way. I tried to explain to her that I have never felt a romantic connection to anyone ever and that I was sorry.”

“Wait…never?” You were careful with your choice of words, reading between the lines to figure out exactly what he was saying.

“You can’t tell Joel any of this, okay? I—I don’t know how to tell him, babygirl. I know he would never judge me but I’m jus’—afraid.”

You reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers together to show him that he had your full support. “Tommy, it’s okay. Your brother isn’t going to scold you for this.”

“No, you’re right, he won’t. Anyway, I tried to tell her that I never have had a crush on anyone in my life and I have never been in love. She thought I was just making an excuse! Why would I make an excuse like that? Doesn’t she realize that if I could feel the same way for her that I would already?” He said exasperatedly, waving his freehand around to emphasize the point he was trying to make.

“Tommy, are you…aromantic?” You asked suddenly.

A sheepish look washed over his face, his cheeks turning as red as the flames from the fire, “yeah, I am.” He mumbled quietly.

“Oh, hon. It’s okay, that’s nothing for you to feel ashamed for. You know that, right?” You squeezed his hand gently, stroking your thumb along the outside of his hand.

“Fuck, I know it’s nothing for me to feel ashamed about! I know—but, I feel that way regardless. She literally thinks I’m some cold, heartless prick now! We’ve literally been fucking consistently for over a year and I thought we had…y’know, developed a mutual friendship.”

“I understand, Tommy. But you are not some cold heartless prick. There’s nothing wrong with you. She just…doesn’t see it the way that you and I do.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighs, sinking back against the couch cushions as he looks into the flames, “you’re the first person that I’ve ever come out to. I mean, my other queer friends know that I’m bisexual, but no one knows that I’m aromantic as well.”

“I understand how you feel, okay? I really do. I’m bisexual, too. I’ve faced similar ridicule for it ever since I came out. I’ve had people tell me to my face that I’m either straight or gay and that I have to pick between the two? It’s fucking ridiculous. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a queer man and feeling like there’s something wrong with you and the way that you live your life because of it.”

His lips part in shock as the joint dies between his fingers. He turns to face you completely, feeling a newfound sense of connection towards you that immediately springs tears to his eyes. “Wait, you’re queer too? I uh—I had a feeling, but I never want to be that person to assume, you know? When did you come out, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Yeah, hon. I’m queer too. And really? What gave me away?” You stifled a giggle, leaning further into his side. “I came out on my 21st birthday actually. My friends took me to my first gay bar in LA and I guess I just blurted it out after a few too many shots? Everyone was so fucking supportive. It brought me to tears! When did you come out?”

“Mmm.” He thought about it momentarily, tapping his fingers against his chin, “there wasn’t like a specific thing that gave you away, I just had this feeling when we first met that you were a fruity lil’ thing.” He laughed warmly. “I came out shortly after I flew out to LA to join Joel at Brazzers. I ended up dating one of my costars for a hot minute. He was my first boyfriend, but I didn’t really understand the whole concept of romance or how to make him feel like I loved him? Our breakup was pretty fuckin’ ugly. Told all his friends that I was a heartless tool and that was the end of that. Think I realized I was aromantic when I flat out told him that he was my best friend but my heart…didn’t get a boner for him? Poor choice of words, but I’ve never really been a serious guy to begin with.”

“Interesting.” You mused with a grin, “yeah, probably wasn’t the wisest move to tell him that your heart didn’t get a boner for him…but that was the only way that you felt you could explain it. Did you guys ever talk about it or reconnect?”

“Actually, yeah! We did. He texted me the other day actually to see how I was doing and we got into a conversation about it. He said it made a lot of sense and what not. I guess I’m just struggling with people not understanding that I’m still this…lovable guy, y’know? I just have never had any interest in love or being in love. Why’s that so hard for people to accept?”

“That’s great that you guys reconnected! Tommy, that’s wonderful! I think people have a problem with it because they want to place you into this perfect box so that you can blend in with the rest of society. They’re going to think you're weird because there’s this stigma around aromantic people being cold and heartless, when y’all are incredibly lovable people, just not in the romantic way.”

“Dude, tell me about it! Society is always telling us how we gotta act, dress, and live our lives! So fuckin’ fed up with it. You mentioned earlier how you can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be a queer man, and you hit the nail right on the head, babygirl. I’m constantly…having this internal battle with myself. Feelin’ like I don’t even belong in the community, y’know?” He sniffled, wiping his face along the sleeve of his shirt in an attempt to hide his tears.

“Hey, you absolutely do belong in the queer community. And anyone who tries to shun you is a bigoted asshole that should really do some self reflecting in their personal life before they try to tear down another marginalized person who is simply just fucking living their life and hurting no one!” You felt his pain and frustration from his words and all you really wanted to do was wrap him up in a big hug.

Tommy is momentarily distracted from a flicker of movement in the kitchen and flash of black fur jumping up onto the counter to see what Joel is up to. He smiles briefly, remembering the last time he caught his older brother putzing around the kitchen making munchies and singing a fucking tune like the lovesick teddy bear that he truly was.

“He really loves you.” He murmured softly.

“What?” You’re confused by the sudden flip of the conversation till you follow the path of his eyes and see your Joel flipping something inside of the pan before he picks Artemis up from the counter, kisses her head and gently places her on his shoulder.

“My brother. He really loves you.” Tommy reiterated with a cheeky grin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him dancing around the kitchen like that. Whenever he gets really caught up in his feelings and emotions, he immediately starts cooking. The last time he did that was for—”

“Carmen?” You question softly, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” He nods, squeezing your hand gently when he notices your eyes growing glassy under the warm glow of the fire. “And…Sarah.”

“Oh cool! So now I’m gonna cry some more!” You laugh trying to process the sudden surge of emotions you’re feeling. “Tommy, I love that man so fucking much. He’s truly…heaven sent, y’know?”

He smiles knowingly, dropping your hand so he can wrap his arm around you, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, babygirl. And you’re the rite of his movement.”

“You—don’t bring Hozier up in a moment like this! Oh my god!” You laugh, turning your face into his shoulder.

The sliding back door from the kitchen opens moments later and your Joel appears with a whole ass stack of freshly made heart shaped pancakes on a plate, smothered in butter and drizzled perfectly in sticky syrup. Artemis is still proudly perched on his shoulder like a damn parakeet, her tail curved around his neck as he approaches the fire pit.

“Baby love!” He sings songs. “Made y’all somethin’ real special! Hope you’re in the mood for pancakes because—” he frowns when he sees the glassy look in his brother's eyes and your own when you peek over at him. “Why do y’all both look like you’re about to burst into tears? Not when I crafted up the best goddamn pancakes in all of Austin!” He attempts to lighten the mood as he gently sits down alongside you, setting the plate along his lap.

“It’s my fault.” Tommy is quick to speak up. “We got into a deep conversation and I uh—got emotional and then baby love got emotional.”

Joel raises a brow and it appears that even Artemis is listening as she leaps down from his shoulder and trots across the back of the couch to nuzzle against your head.

“What kinda deep conversation did y’all get into?”

“Well, first I just wanna let you know that Natalie is planning on quitting Miller-Co…because of me.” Tommy whispered the last part.

“Oh, for fuck sakes! Tommy, what did you do?” Joel lets out an exasperated sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Baby.” You speak up, “hear him out, okay?” You reach for his hand. “Tommy really needs our support right now.”

He sighs, grasping your hand in his palm with his fingers interlocked through yours. “I’m listenin.’”

“I promise I didn’t do anything wrong, Joel. I swear. Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a long time now, I jus’—I’ve been nervous to-do so.” Tommy starts, looking over at his brother as he gathers his thoughts, “so uh, I’m—aromantic and bisexual.”

Joel doesn’t even look the least bit surprised at his brother coming out. His eyes soften as he responds with a small nod, “that ain’t nothin’ you gotta worry about, little brother. I’ve been havin’ a feelin’ for a while now. S’okay. I love you jus’ the same.”

Tommy breaks immediately, his vision blurring with tears when his brother reaches across to gently squeeze his shoulder. “I—I had no idea that you already…knew.” He sniffles.

“Course not, Tommy. M’jus’ a real observant person, y’know? So, is this what’s gotten you all in a fuss? Can I safely assume that Natalie wants to quit because she found out that you’re queer and she has feelings for you that you can’t return?” Joel read between the lines at ease, feeling a surge of anger in his veins that one of their own colleagues made his kin feel a certain way. Especially when the values instilled at Miller-Co were accepting of everyone. No matter their race, gender, sexuality, etc.

“God dammit, you’re smart.” Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, basically that’s why she wants to quit. Fuckin’ ridiculous if I’m being honest.”

“Well, I don't like someone like her working for us anyway. If she wants to quit, then by all means, let her quit. Good riddance, honestly. Damn shame too. Miller-Co doesn’t have a place for small-minded people like her.” Joel is quick to defend and validate his brother's feelings without missing a beat.

“Okay, okay, you don’t needa go off on her or anythin’ , okay? I’ll handle it tomorrow or somethin.’” Tommy reassured him.

“Alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Joel nods, focusing his attention back on you. “So, Tommy comin’ out to ya is what’s gotten you all teary eyed again, baby love?”

You nod, looking over at him with a small smile. “Yeah, and…Joel?”

“Hm?”

“I’m bisexual…too.”

“Guess that makes me the token straight of the family, huh?” He lightly jokes before squeezing your hand, “well, if that’s the case, I love you all the same too, baby love.”

The following morning Joel wakes up long before you do. He heads into town, visiting a local business that was queer owned and known for their assortment of pride flag stickers and other merch. He purchases an aromantic pride bumper sticker and a bisexual bumper sticker. He doesn’t wait to get home to put them on the bumper of his truck. He carefully peels the stickers off and places them in a spare spot on the already heavily decorated bumper. He takes a step back, arms crossed over his chest with the biggest smile on his face.

Austin’s token straight, and biggest ally has done it once again, folks!

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