#there was no need for this thing to take A FUCKING YEAR

[girlgenius1111]

overworked

putellas!reader r is struggling with being a full time student & playing for Barça, and being alexia putellas' sister. she turns to some unhealthy methods to cope, and her sister is not pleased when she finds out. warnings: panic attacks, hospitalization, drug use [very mild]

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"Alexia," Olga murmured, shaking her girlfriend gently. The blonde only mumbled incoherently, rolling away from the disruptive sound of her girlfriend's voice, and tucking her head under her pillow.

"Alexia Putellas Segura," Olga repeated, yanking the pillow away.

"Hey! What do you want?" Alexia asked grumpily, glaring up at her girlfriend.

"I think your sister is still awake. I went to get water and her light was on."

Alexia sighed, running a hand over her face. "What time?"

"It's 3am."

"Hermanita loca," Alexia groaned, rolling off the side of the bed and directly onto the floor, before popping up and heading for the door.

"You are so dramatic." Olga sighed, rolling her eyes at her girlfriend's antics.

You'd lived with your sister for a while now; after signing with Barça, Alexia had convinced your mami that the best thing would be for you to live with her. Alexia could keep an eye on you, and Eli wouldn’t have to deal with the crazy schedule you had to follow. 

Being a 20 year old playing for the best football club in the world, while simultaneously being a full time student was not easy. In fact, you were pretty sure it was slowly killing you. 

You were, and always had been, a perfectionist. You weren't a quitter. In your family, you saw through your commitments. So, even though you were dead tired, stressed beyond belief, and barely keeping up with your coursework, you wouldn't give up. You wouldn't even drop a class. You were running yourself into the ground, and everyone around you could tell. Well, mostly everyone. 

You'd heard Olga get up, and you knew her well enough to know that she had probably woken your sister to tell her that your light was on. Before she could come marching into your room and take your computer, you flicked the light off, shut your laptop, and burrowed under the covers.

Sure enough, your door creaked open a minute later, and your sister poked her head in, finding you 'asleep'. She knew you, though, too, and she didn't buy it for a second.

"Nice try." She said, voice just above a whisper. She moved towards your bed, flicking the light back on, and grabbing your laptop.

"Alexiaaaa," you complained, pretending she'd woken you. You squinted your eyes at her, removing the covers from your face, finding her staring at you with one eyebrow raised. You knew you were fucked, but you needed to get this essay done, tonight. The thought of adding it to tomorrow's to-do list made you want to cry.

"That was quite a performance." She opened the computer, where your essay was still pulled up, and looked at the document history.

"'Last edit made: 3 minutes ago'. Do you think I don't know all your tricks, nena?" Alexia teased, shutting the laptop again, and moving to get off the bed to leave the room with it. She caught your facial expression, though, and realized you were barely holding back tears.

"Hey," she said softly. "What is it? What's wrong?" Alexia took a seat back on the edge of the bed, brushing a piece of hair out of your face as you blinked hard, willing the tears away.

"Please give it back." You managed, gesturing towards your computer.

Alexia grew stern once more. "Nena. No. It's late, and you need sleep. This isn't healthy."

"I need to finish this essay, Alexia, please," you pleaded. You and your sister were similar, especially in that you were both very stubborn. The chance of either of you letting up was... low. Alexia held your computer, though, and therefore, held all the power.

"No. You can finish it tomorrow."

"I can't! We have training, and I have an essay to do for another class, and an exam to study for, and a presentation to start, and-"

"You are working yourself too hard, nena. None of those things are more important than sleep. You can turn in some things late, it won't kill you."

Unlike you, Alexia was not a perfectionist; at least not when it came to school. She tolerated it for as long as she had to, before putting all of her energy into football. It had paid off, but Alexia never understood your need to be a good student, to get the highest grade possible in everything.

This very distinct difference between the two of you often caused confusion on Alexia’s part, and frustration on yours. Alexia didn’t understand why you couldn’t just relax about school, and you didn’t understand how Alexia expected you to be okay with getting anything less than a perfect score. 

“Alexia,” you began. 

“No. Sleep.” Alexia insisted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before leaving your room, your computer held hostage in her arms. You waited until her footsteps faded down the hall before you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and opened up your essay. It wasn’t ideal, but it needed to be done. Sleep was the last thing on your mind. 

You finished the essay an hour later, which gave you only 5 hours of sleep. Still, you’d trained with less sleep, and you probably would again. 

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Being the sister of the best in the world wasn’t easy. Alba had been telling you that for years. Being the sister of the best in the world, and playing the same sport that she was the best at, though? That was a different kind of nightmare, one which you lived everyday. 

Though the athleticism genes seemed to skip right over your middle sister, it was clear to everyone that from a young age that you were talented on the football pitch. The 10 year age gap between you and your sister meant that Alexia had always blurred the line between parent figure and sister. Once you got serious about football, Alexia made it her mission to make sure you were the best that you could be. 

From extra training to talking about tactics while you were supposed to be studying for school, your sister had always made it clear to you that if you wanted football, school would have to come second. Your mami disagreed heavily, but no one on earth had the will to stop Alexia doing something she’d decided was important. And as her baby sister, you showing interest in following in her footsteps was the most important thing. Ever. She’d moved you in with her when you were 18, still playing on the Barça B team. It was because of your sister that you excelled enough there to move up to the first team by the time you were 19. 

Your sister had been stunned when you told her you intended to attend university and get your degree while you continued your football career. For her, football was it. Football was everything. It was all she had ever wanted to do, and all she would ever want to do. For you, though, it was much more complicated. You loved football. And maybe you would have loved it as much as Alexia did, if it hadn’t been for your sister herself. 

It was a combination of things that had begun to leech away your love for the game. It was the pressure Alexia put on you, for sure. The demand for perfection at all times, even if she told you that it was okay to make mistakes. It was the expectations inside of the team to be a mini Alexia, to take charge and be a leader even though you were much shyer and quieter than she was. Above all else, though, it was the feeling that nothing you would ever accomplish, no matter how hard you tried, how hard you pushed, would ever be enough. Alexia, the public, the team, the coaching staff, they all expected you to be a younger version of your sister. They expected you to do what she did, sooner than she’d done it, and better than she’d done it. 

The pressure mounted. It built over several years, accumulating until you were 20 years old, and you weren’t even sure why you were still playing. You didn’t think you loved football anymore. You kept going because of Alexia, because you’d made commitments. But the truth was that you worked so hard in school because that was your safety net. It was your chance to do something that was your own, do something that Alexia hadn’t done first. It was a place where you were spared constant comparisons to your sister, a place where you felt like yourself, your own person. 

You loved Ale; that wasn’t the issue. It was just that very accomplishment you had was tinged with it just not being as good as something your sister had done. And it felt like everything football related you would ever do would be overshadowed. 

It felt like if you ever wanted to be something other than Alexia Putellas’ baby sister, you’d have to do it someplace else. 

So it was a full workload of classes for you, on top of training with the team. On top of playing for the national team. Alexia didn’t understand why school was so important, no one did. But you were committed to having a back up plan. Football wasn’t your passion at the moment. So much of the joy you had while playing had drained away. 

You couldn’t slow down with football, that was out of the question. And you couldn’t slow down with school, either, not if you wanted to graduate on time. Your only option was to push through. 

It was inevitable, really, that you’d stumble, that it would all become too much. And inevitable that you’d break. You just couldn’t fathom what would come after that, so you plowed forward. Moved steadily ahead, towards the edge of a cliff. You didn’t know what awaited you at the bottom once you fell from the edge, but you were well past caring. 

-------

Your sister always kept a close eye on you during training. She made sure you were hydrated enough, that you didn’t get overheated, that you weren’t doing anything to risk injury. Any hint of discomfort on your face had your sister yanking you off the pitch and dragging you inside to get evaluated. 

No one could ever accuse Alexia of not caring. 

Today, she noted that you looked preoccupied. And that you’d brought your phone into the gym with you, which in and of itself wasn’t odd. It was the way you were checking it obsessively in between reps that had Alexia slightly concerned. You weren’t talking to your friends the way you normally did, and just as Alexia had decided to put her foot down and pull you aside, you picked up your phone again. 

This time, your face dropped, all the color draining out of your cheeks. Before Alexia could take even a step in your direction, you were slipping out of the gym, rushing into the locker room as you stared at something on your phone.

“What are you doing?” Alexia said, following you into the locker room. 

“I- I got a grade back.” You told her. 

“A grade?” 

“On the exam from last week,” you whispered. 

“Is it bad?” Alexia wondered, taking a few steps closer to you. Her mind flashed back to when she used to have to show Eli a bad grade she’d gotten on an exam during school. Normally, she’d slip her the paper and take off to hide in your room, because Eli didn’t like to yell in front of the baby. Alexia wondered if you were so upset because you were worried about her reaction. 

“No Ale, I did well, that’s why I'm freaking out,” you snapped sarcastically, falling back down onto the bench as your chest heaved, hiding your face in your hands. “I can’t breathe.”

“Hermana?” Alexia asked, brow furrowing with concern as she looked at you. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you repeated, your voice muffled by your hands. 

“What is happening?” Alexia asked, her face clouded with concern as she sat down next to you. “Hermanita, tell me what is wrong.” 

You thrust your phone into her hands. It took Alexia a moment to figure out what she was looking at, but then she saw the grade reflected back at her. It wasn’t bad by any means, but it wasn’t your usual perfect score. 

“Nena, this isn’t bad,” she tried, but you pulled your hands away from your face to glare at her, barely able to form words. 

“It’s- not good enough, Ale, I need to do bet-better than that, it’s not good enough,” you sobbed. Alexia couldn’t remember ever caring this much about a grade, but she knew how different you were from her, and she did her best to comfort you. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay nena,” she soothed, noticing Irene and Mapi walking in through the locker room door, looking concerned, but she couldn’t tear her focus away from you. You’d gone completely silent on her, the only sound you were making being a choked gasp as you tried to inhale enough air. “Nena?” 

“Ale, help,” you cried, both of your trembling hands clawing at your chest. Your face was rapidly losing color and you looked completely dazed and completely petrified. Irene and Mapi moved closer, looking between the two of you.

“Hermana?” Alexia panicked. You shook your head, a few tears escaping. You swayed in your seat, tilting forward until you were half leaning on your sister, and gripped onto her shirt with your hands, desperate for some relief from the tidal wave of terror and panic rushing through you.  “Nena, talk to me.” Alexia said, rubbing your back as she looked between her teammates. 

“Can’t breathe,” you gasped, “chest hurts.” 

Alexia froze, but Irene snapped into action. 

“Mapi, call an ambulance.” She instructed. “Ale, let’s get her on the ground before she passes out.” 

The world was swirling around you, nothing comprehensible. Before you knew it, you were laid on the floor of the locker room, your head resting in your sister’s lap as her hands anxiously fiddled with your hair. You could see her mouth moving, and you tried to force your ears to hear anything other than an echoing ring. 

“You’re okay, nena. You’re okay, I’ve got you. You’re going to be just fine.” 

You blinked, but when you opened your eyes next, you were moving through the halls of the Barça facility. You felt a bit like you were floating, and though there was a mask on your face that was forcing oxygen into you, it still didn’t feel like there was enough air on earth to fill your lungs. 

You blinked again, and Alexia’s face was hovering over yours, along with the face of a stranger. You could hear a bit better now, and even as your eyes tried to shut, you did your best to listen before you drifted back off.

“-does she keep passing out?” That sounded like Alexia. Worried Alexia.  

“A lack of oxygen, she’s breathing too rapidly. Every time she comes to, her heart rate picks up again.” 

“Stay awake, please,” Alexia begged, the paramedic next to her forgotten as she glanced down and noticed your eyes were open.  

And you wanted to, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe. You were pretty sure you were dying, and the only thought you had was that at least the anxiety would finally stop. 

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You were completely calm when you woke up. Sleepy beyond belief, and your body felt heavy, but you were calm. It was hard to peel your eyes open, and harder to try to move your hand to rub at your eyes. 

You remembered what had happened, but you didn’t feel panicked like you normally did. The constant pulse of anxiety wasn’t running through you as it normally did, and though you couldn’t figure out why, you were relieved beyond belief. 

“Hey,” Alexia whispered. She was sat at your bedside, cheeks alarmingly tearstained. 

Your guard was up instantly, and your sister could tell. She desperately wanted to know what was happening to you, what had caused this, but she knew from the look on your face that you wouldn’t talk to her. 

And that hurt more than she wanted to admit. 

“I am going to go call Mami and tell her you are awake.” Alexia said, avoiding eye contact as she got up and left the room. You hadn’t realized Olga was standing against the wall until she moved, taking Alexia’s vacant seat. She gave you a soft smile. 

“Hi.” You whispered. 

“Hi.” She replied, taking your hand in hers. 

“Was it a panic attack?” 

“It was.” Olga nodded. “Has that happened before?” 

“Never that bad.” 

“You need to talk to someone. And it doesn’t have to be me or Ale, but something is going on. I don’t know what, but you need help.” 

“I’m fine, Olga.” You said, biting your lip and looking away from the brunette. She sat silently for a minute. 

“Alexia is not going to let this go. You know that. You terrified her today, and you know as well as I do that she would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you are okay. It doesn’t matter how much you pretend, nena. She sees right through you.” Olga said gently, falling quiet as your sister reentered the room.

You knew she was right. But like your sister, you were stubborn, too. And you wouldn’t make this easy. 

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Three days and two painful therapy sessions later, you were dragged into a meeting to discuss your wellbeing. Your favorite topic. 

The meeting really couldn’t have gone worse. The team psychologist, Ana, couldn’t say much because of confidentiality reasons, but she’d made it clear that if you kept going like this, panic attacks like you'd had the other day would keep happening. You were under a high amount of stress between school and football, and it was of her opinion that something needed to change. 

Ana suggested you be benched for a few weeks, while you figured things out. She told Jona, and Alexia and Irene who were sitting in the meeting, that she didn’t think you were being honest with her, and that if you were going to get better, you needed to be. 

You’d barely spoken during the meeting. Alexia did all the talking for you, and she managed to convince Ana not to bench you, not yet. You were given 2 weeks to get a better football-school balance, and to prove that you were mentally doing better. If your sister, Ana, and Jona felt that you weren’t improving after 2 weeks, you’d be benched.  

You knew Alexia was upset when she ignored you the rest of the day. The entire training session, the entire drive home. Olga looked confused at the icy tension between the two of you as Alexia stormed into the house, turning to face you with a frustrated look on her face. 

“Here is what we are going to do. I want you to drop a class, but you are not going to agree to that. So, you are going to put your computer in my room every night at 11pm. You will either finish your homework by then or it won’t get done. Either way, you will go to bed at 11. You will see the psychologist twice a week. You will come to me if you have any more panic attacks. We are fixing this before it goes any further, okay?”

She paused, raising her eyebrows at you. 

“Okay.” You agreed. There was no arguing with your sister, and you knew it. You’d have to break the rules, rather than try to change them. Alexia was instantly suspicious how easily you’d agreed to her request. 

“There is no option of you being benched, pequeña. Football comes first, before school, before everything. Do you understand?” 

“I understand.” 

“Good.” Alexia turned without another word, heading upstairs to take a shower. You avoided eye contact with Olga, as you slipped upstairs, too. You had a call to make.

-------

It was a bad idea. You knew it as soon as you bought the pills, but that didn’t stop you. 

It was just a few. Just to get you through this upcoming round of exams and through football. You had to wait for Alexia and Olga to both fall asleep to get your computer out of their room. Once you finished your homework, it was normally around 3 or 4 and you were exhausted. You had to put your computer back, and then you could go to sleep. It wasn’t a sustainable routine, but it was your only choice. And the only way you knew how to accomplish it was to take the adderall you’d bought from a boy at school. 

You couldn’t quit school. When football failed, or you quit, whichever came first, you needed to have a plan b. School was your plan b. 

And you weren’t sure you wanted to quit football. You hadn’t decided yet. It was suffocating, playing in Alexia’s shadow, and you just weren’t sure how much more you could take. Quitting, though. You weren’t quite there yet. 

You just had to keep going. Keep trying to balance both things, and not let anyone know how miserable you were. You didn’t really consider, very naively, that the pills would make everything worse. 

-------

You took one for the first time the next evening after training. 

The guilt that hit after you swallowed the pill was unbearable. You couldn't work, couldn’t get anything done. You curled up into a ball on your bed and let your thoughts run wild. All you could think was that you were risking everything; school, football, everything. 

It was school or it was football, but you couldn’t have both. You were pretty sure of that now. Something had to change. You had to get rid of the pills, and you had to make a decision. 

School or football. 

Disappointing your sister, or never living up to her expectations. 

And, ironically, the only person you could really turn to for help was Alexia 

You couldn’t keep everything a secret anymore. And even though you were terrified of being honest with her, you knew you had no other choice. 

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Alexia and Olga were lounging on the couch, Olga draped across your sister, when you walked in. Olga saw you first, sitting up slightly at the sight of the distressed look on your face. She nudged Alexia, who paused the TV and turned expectantly towards you, a frown tugging at her lips as she looked up at you. 

“Pequeña-?” Alexia cut herself off when you took the plastic bag out of your pocket, the little blue pills clearly visible inside. You dropped it onto the table in front of her. 

“I bought them from someone at school. It’s adderall. I didn’t take any. Get rid of them, please.” You said numbly, refusing to make eye contact with your sister, before turning and walking back out of the room. 

Alexia and Olga sat in stunned silence for a minute, before the blonde slowly reached for the bag, picking it up gingerly and looking at the pills. Her expression quickly grew angry, and she moved to stand up from the couch and follow you up the stairs. Olga grabbed her arm, though, pulling her back down onto the couch. 

“Ale, hold on.” 

“She bought drugs, Olga. This could have ruined her career, gotten her kicked out of school, gotten her arrested. You cannot tell me not to yell at her,” Alexia complained, though she turned to Olga with an expectant expression on her face. 

“She brought drugs, Alexia.” Olga repeated slowly. “Your perfect marks, perfect training schedule, perfectly behaved sister bought drugs to try to keep up with her school work. She is so stressed about getting everything done that she bought drugs. She didn’t take them, she gave them to you before she took them. This isn’t normal, Alexia, this is not a normal stress level for a 20 year old to have. Yelling at her is not going to make it better. Trust me, Ale, talk to her like she’s an adult.” 

Alexia considered that, for a minute. It was worth a shot, she supposed. And she could always start yelling if she needed to. 

-------

The softness of the knock on your door was almost unnerving. You’d expected Alexia to follow you up the stairs, shouting her head off. It had been a few minutes, though, and you’d only just heard her quiet footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“Come in,” you called shakily. 

Alexia walked in slowly, her every step measured. You could tell that she was trying to keep herself calm, which is more than you expected. More than you deserved. 

Your sister didn’t speak as she came in, didn’t seem to know what to say. She just slid onto the floor next to you, seemingly stunned into silence.  

“I fucked up.” You said after a minute. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your sister nod slowly. 

Very suddenly, she put a hand on your shoulder, forcefully turning you in her direction. Her eyes looked severe when you looked up at her, and all you wanted to do was cry and beg for her to forgive you. 

“Hermanita. Did you take any of those pills?” Alexia asked, enunciating each word slowly. She was looking at you right in the eye, and you knew that if you lied, she’d be able to tell. You’d lied before, and you thought you’d be able to keep it going, but you couldn’t. All of a sudden, you felt like another lie might suffocate you. 

“One.” You whispered, shutting your eyes tightly. 

Alexia exhaled slowly. “When? Today?” 

“Sí.” You told her, voice dripping with shame. You couldn't look at her. If she’d been disappointed in you before, you were sure the look on her face now would be something you couldn’t tolerate. 

“You feel okay? No hives, no allergic reactions?” 

“No, I’m fine.” 

Alexia didn’t really feel like taking your word for it, evidently, and you felt her hand grip your chin and turn your face up towards her. She didn’t look as disappointed as you’d feared. She looked worried, and a bit lost as she inspected your face. 

“I don’t know what to say. I’m… I am upset with you. This is just so unlike you, nena, and I am really worried. I don’t know how to help you.”

“I’m never going to do it again, Ale, I gave you all the pills, I swear.” 

Alexia shook her head. “The pills are a problem, but something is going on with you to make you feel like you needed to do this, and I want to understand.” 

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I was just stressed, it was a mistake and I won’t make it again.” You dismissed. 

“It is not nothing!” Alexia shouted, seeing you wince and look away from her. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that yelling wasn’t the way to get you to talk to her. “It is not nothing. I am your sister, nena, you can tell me whatever is going on. I can help you. I can fix whatever isn’t okay, you just have to tell me.” 

“Alexia, there is nothing to fix. Now please, I gave you the pills and I know I fucked up. There isn’t anything to talk about, just leave it alone.” You hated how much she was pushing. You’d prefer if she would just yell. Yelling, you could take. But honesty? And what would come with it? There was no chance on earth that Alexia would understand. She was Alexia, and you were just you. Her younger sister, who would never live up to her legacy, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Leave it alone?!” Alexia yelled again, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. She rose to her feet, beginning to pace, and you stood up too, crossing your arms defiantly across your chest. “You bought drugs at school, you took a pill that was not prescribed to you, you have been going crazy with anxiety, and I want to know why!” 

“I told you, I was just stressed.” You said through clenched teeth, willing yourself not to rise to her level of anger, even though you wanted to. Why was she pushing so hard? Why did she care so much?

“This has to be more than just stress, pequeña! Doing things like this is not okay, you are not okay.” 

“I’m fine.” You insisted. 

“Stop lying to me!” Alexia yelled, ignoring the appearance of Olga in your doorway, even as she felt her girlfriend giving her a look that told her to calm down. 

“Ale-” Olga began, but you cut her off. 

“ I am doing the best that I can, I am doing everything I can to be good enough for you and for the team and for everyone, but none of it is ever enough!” You shouted, slamming your mouths shut when you felt like you’d said too much. 

“This is about school, not football. No one is making you do school! This stress is your own doing, this pressure is coming from you, not anyone else. Drop a class, drop out for all I care. What you are doing to yourself is completely unnecessary.” Alexia said, completely and entirely confused as to just why school was so important to you. Important enough to risk everything.

“It is not unnecessary, Alexia. I need a backup plan, and school is my backup plan.” 

“You have football, why do you need a backup plan?” Alexia scoffed, rolling her eyes at you in a way that made your body flame with rage. 

“Maybe I don’t want football, Alexia. Maybe that’s not what I want anymore.” 

Alexia stared at you, jaw dropped in shock. “What?” She whispered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Olga step closer, but you willed yourself not to look at her. Olga was always more sympathetic than Ale, and you were pretty sure the look on her face would break you right now.

“I can’t do it anymore, Ale, I can’t,” 

“You are 20! You are a baby! How could you want to quit, you have barely even gotten started!” 

“You don’t understand what it’s like for me, Alexia.” 

The blonde rolled her eyes. How could you say that? Of course she understood. “I do, nena, I understand better than anyone, but you cannot just give up because things are more difficult than you anticipated.”

“No. You don’t understand. Things aren’t more difficult than I anticipated, they are impossible. I am losing my mind, Ale, I can’t take it anymore. I can’t.” 

“So you want to quit? All of it, everything you’ve worked for. Throw away everything I’ve done for you?”

“I don’t know, Ale. I just can’t do it like this anymore.” 

Your sister didn’t understand. The anger on her face told you that, and you knew when she opened her mouth next, her words would hurt more than you thought possible. 

“If you are quitting because it is hard, you are not the person I thought you were. Putellas’ don’t quit. I expected so much more from you.” 

And even though you’d anticipated it, the words Alexia spit at you still felt like a bullet through the heart. Mostly because you were pretty sure she was right. You were a failure and a disappointment beyond comparison. 

Your sister took a step back, and though her face remained hard, she was horrified at herself. 

“Alexia, that is enough,” Olga snapped, walking to stand in between the two of you. She knew she’d stepped in too late but the roles of Alexia’s girlfriend and of someone who cared about you were difficult to balance. 

“I’m going to Alba’s. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry Alexia.” You rushed out of the room, leaving your sister frozen, in horror at her own words, behind you. 

-------

When Alexia got to Alba’s,  she could hear you from the hall. Your sister paused for a minute. She’d expected you to be angry, expected you to be telling Alba exactly what she’d said. She’d expected anger, and that wasn’t what she found. 

Instead, she opened the door to Alba’s apartment quietly and stepped inside. You were curled up on the couch, your head in Alba’s lap as she soothingly ran her fingers through your hair. 

“I-I’ve ruined everything,” you sobbed. 

“No, hermanita.You made a mistake. Nothing is ruined.” 

“She hates me now,” you continued, as if you hadn’t heard Alba speak at all. 

“You need to breathe, cariño, you need to calm down.” 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you cried, before words became impossible and all you could do was cry. 

Alba looked up, then, her face thunderous as she caught sight of her older sister. She shook her head, but Alexia’s eyes were only on you. 

“Hermanita,” she whispered, cautiously walking closer to the sofa. You sat upright at the sound of your oldest sister’s voice, a downright terrified expression on your face. “I don’t hate you, nena. I could never hate you.” 

Your face crumpled at her words, the last stable part of you collapsing.“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t do this anymore, Ale, I can’t,” 

“Alright, alright.” Alexia soothed, sitting down on the couch next to you. 

“We’re gonna fix it, hermanita. Whatever is wrong, whatever you are struggling with, we are going to fix it.” Alba promised you, exchanging a look with her older sister. Alba was pretty furious with Alexia at the moment, but they knew they’d need each other to get you through this.The destroyed state you were in now, the things you’d been doing were all signs that you weren’t okay, and that you needed their help. They were determined to help you.   

You sat in between your sisters, crying harder than you ever had before. You weren’t sure how everything had gotten so messed up. And you weren’t sure you knew how it could be fixed. 

-------

Alexia and Alba had both decided that you should go back home, and get some rest. 

Olga had been anxiously waiting for you both to return, having sent your sister after you almost as soon as you’d left the house. Neither you or Alexia had said much upon arriving back home. You’d been practically catatonic when you’d walked through the front door; cheeks tearstained, body slumped against your sister’s as she helped you into the house. You’d gone right up to bed, and Alexia had simply pulled Olga into a hug. All Ale had told her girlfriend was that she was going to sit you down tomorrow and get you to talk. She was going to figure out what was wrong. What had brought you to this point, why you’d been hiding things from her. She was going to get you to talk if she had to get down on her knees and beg. 

Alexia had already texted Jona and told him neither of you would be in tomorrow, aside from a meeting with Ana that your sister had scheduled for the afternoon. If Alexia couldn’t get you talking, she hoped the therapist would. If that didn’t work, she’d call Eli. The only reason she hadn’t called her mami yet was because she knew how hard Eli would come down on you for the drugs, and on Alexia for not taking better care of you. And Alexia knew that each of you respectively carried enough shame for both of those things. 

 Your sister lay awake in her bed that night, trying to piece together what exactly was happening with you. It was like there was a big piece missing, and she couldn’t think her way through the problem no matter how hard she tried. She tossed and turned in her bed for at least an hour, fighting the urge to go check on you. 

“Ale.” Olga whispered, having been woken up by her girlfriend's restlessness. She rolled onto her side and wrapped her arm around her girlfriend’s body. 

Alexia sniffled. “Did I wake you?” 

“No. I was thirsty.” Olga lied, sitting up to grab her water off her nightstand. “Worrying all night is not going to help your sister, baby.”

“Well, I can try.” Alexia said back, turning on her side to bury her face in Olga’s shirt. “I messed up. So badly. She wants to quit football, she brought drugs at school. She’s been miserable for so long and I didn’t know. I didn’t do anything about it.” 

Olga ran her fingers through her girlfriend’s hair, thinking hard about what to say. “Amor, you can’t go back and change things. You can just try to be better for her.” 

“What if I can’t be better? What if I’m just a bad sister? A bad person?” 

“You aren’t either of those things, mi amor. A mistake doesn’t make you bad.”

“This is more than just one mistake. This is months of mistakes.” 

Olga shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She is your sister, and she adores you. Both of you will get past this. You love each other too much not to.” 

Alexia sat with that for a moment. It was true. Even if she didn’t always act like it, even if she wasn’t the best at showing it. She loved you and Alba more than anything on earth. And she decided, then and there, that she wouldn’t ever stop trying to prove that to you. 

------

Crying must have tired you out, because when you woke the next day, before even opening your eyes, you could tell it was late. Well past when Alexia would normally wake you up for training. Momentarily, you wondered if she’d gone without you. If she was upset. But then you recognized the soft touch of Alexia’s hand on your back, gently moving back and forth; her preferred way of waking you up. Alexia cherished her sleep, and because she assumed everyone else did too, she was careful to wake you up in the least jarring way possible. 

You rolled over, clonking your head into her knee. Grumpily, you opened your eyes. Alexia was not in her training clothes. She was still in her pajamas, in fact, looking down at you nervously. You weren’t used to her being nervous to talk to you. 

“Hola.” She greeted. “I woke you up because you never sleep this late, but if you are still tired, you can go back to sleep. We have an appointment with Ana at 2, and I was hoping we could talk before that, but we don’t have to. We can just-”

You cut off her rambling with a shake of your head, dragging your body into a sitting position. Your head was pounding, probably a combination of all the cry and dehydration. 

“No, I’m okay. I’m up. We can talk. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

“Okay!” Alexia said much too quickly. She ruffled your hair awkwardly before turning and heading downstairs, looking back at you slumped in your bed at least 3 times. 

When you appeared downstairs 5 minutes later, having made yourself look somewhat presentable, Alexia was sitting on the couch, anxiously bouncing her knee as she waited for you. She had her phone in her hand, and she was rapidly texting someone. Alba or Olga, you guessed. You carefully sat down on the couch a safe distance away from her, now feeling a bit nervous yourself. 

You didn’t know what you were supposed to say. If being honest would make things better or worse. If things could really even get any worse. 

“You wanted to talk.” You said after a minute, finally venturing a quick glance at your sister, who was looking expectantly at you. 

“I want you to talk. And I want to listen.” Alexia said gently. 

You thought for a moment, before shrugging. “What do you want me to talk about?”

The blonde took a deep breath. “Do you want to quit football?” She asked quietly, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice, no matter how hard she tried. She loved playing with you. It was her favorite thing. 

You read her disappointment wrong, though, thinking she was disappointed in you, and you became slightly defensive, and slightly more tense. “Sometimes.” 

Alexia fought the urge to respond to your hostility with her own. Instead, she kept her face soft and open. “Why do you want to quit? And why do you not want to quit?” 

You shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. Avoiding Ale’s gaze, you replied as honestly as you could. “I think I still love it, deep down. It just feels like it’s suffocating me right now. Draining all of my energy and all of my happiness. It’s really hard, Ale. I don’t know how to fix that.” 

Nodding slowly, the blonde tried not to react to your words outwardly. “Can you tell me what is so hard? I have played for many years, nena, and I do not think I have ever struggled as much as you are struggling now. I don’t understand, but I want to.” 

She was being sincere, you could tell. She genuinely did not understand what the issue was. It had never felt this difficult for her, not in this all consuming way. You wanted your sister to understand, but you didn’t want to hurt her. Explaining ran the risk of upsetting her, yet you knew you had no choice. 

“You have played for many years, yes. But you have never played as Alexia Putellas’ younger sister. You have never played in the shadow of the greatest in the world, of your sister.”

Alexia inhaled sharply. “I make it hard? Being my sister makes it hard?” She asked, voice almost a whisper as she tried to fight back tears. This was her fault. 

You nodded miserably. “I can’t go a day without being compared to you. Your talent, your leadership skills, everything. I feel like nothing I do is ever good enough… for you or for anyone else. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I will never be you, Ale. And that is what everyone wants me to be.” 

Your sister shook her head frantically, scooching closer. “That’s not what I want, nena. You are one of my favorite people in the world. I don’t want you to be me, I want you to be you.” 

“But I’m not good enough, Ale. Not for anyone. Being me isn’t good enough.” You cried, pulling your hand away from Alexia’s. You couldn’t even begin to consider that she was telling the truth. 

“Yes it is, nena, and I am so sorry if I have made you feel like-” 

“If? Alexia you have spent the past 2 years of my life pressuring me to be better, telling me to try harder and to push more. And so has everyone else.” 

Your sister shook her head again, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her, even as you tried to pull away. “I am so sorry, nena. So sorry. I thought you wanted it, as much as I wanted it for you.” 

“I did want it.” You mumbled. “But I wanted you to just be my sister more.” 

Alexia felt her heart shatter, but she fought against the tears welling in her eyes. “I am so sorry.” She repeated, shutting her eyes tightly as she rubbed your back. “ I… If you want to quit, I will support you. I won’t be disappointed in you, I will always support you. No matter what you do or don’t do, I will always be your sister. And you will always have me.” 

“No, Ale, I don’t know that I want to quit, I just… I can’t do it anymore. Not like this. It’s too hard.” You sobbed, hiding your face in your sister’s shirt. 

“Okay. Okay, cariño. We’ll figure it out, alright? We’ll figure it all out.” Alexia promised. 

You hoped she was right. 

--------

Therapy later that day was… alright. You broke down again, detailing your near constant anxiety and stress, and admitting to Ana that you’d bought adderall. You don’t quite remember what you said, honestly. It was a blur. You remembered crying, remembered holding Alexia’s hand. Explaining to her that you were so obsessed with school because you wanted to have something if football didn’t work. You never wanted to disappoint your family, Alexia most of all. Alexia had cried too. You remembered what she said clearly, and even now, three weeks later, you thought of her words.  

“Hermanita, I don’t care if you are a footballer. I don’t care if you get a degree or get an impressive job. I don’t care what you do, as long as you are happy and healthy and okay. That is all that matters to me. And that is all that matters to Mami and Alba, too. I love you, nena. That is not conditional or dependent on anything.” 

And she had proven that. She had been patient, kind, and thoughtful. Supportive. Even when you took three weeks off of football and school to get your anxiety under control. She was there through every sleepless night and every tear. Alexia was the reason you got through it, and she was the reason you made the decision you did. 

-------

You’d waited a bit to tell her. You were always going to finish the season out with Barça, but it remained to be seen whether or not you’d continue after the season ended. Alexia had prepared herself for you not to continue. For you to tell her that this was it. She’d made her peace with that. She was wholly surprised, then, when you sat her down two nights before you were set to go back to training and told her your plans. 

“I’m dropping out of school.” You said carefully, watching her reaction. She looked stunned. 

“But I thought… you don’t have to do that for me, nena. I just want you to be happy.” 

The thing was, you believed her. And that was why you wanted to play again. 

“I know you do, Ale. I’m doing this for me. I love football. I’ve missed it these past few weeks, much more than I missed school. I didn’t really care about school, I just wanted to have something. If I couldn’t make you proud of me with football, I thought I could do it through school.” 

“I am proud of you. So proud of you, because of football and completely separate from it.” Alexia insisted. 

You nodded. “I know you are, and that’s why I want to play again. It doesn’t feel the same as before, like your love for me is riding on how well I perform. That wasn’t ever the case, and I know that now. You’ve made it really clear, Ale.” 

“But your anxiety,”

“I was having a hard time because I was trying to do school full time and football. I’m already so much less stressed. The pressure feels less intense. It feels like football can be fun again.”

“You are sure about this?” Alexia asked, gripping tightly onto your hand. She didn't want a repeat of three weeks ago. And she didn’t want you to be unhappy. 

“I promise, I’m sure. I want to play. And if that changes… I’ll tell you. I know I can trust you. I should have known that all along, and I didn’t, but I do now.” 

“You can always trust me.” Alexia affirmed. “You are sure? You want to play?” She checked again, looking intently at your face, trying to tell if you were lying to make her happy. 

“I want to play.” You promised. 

Her neutral face transformed into a huge grin and she all but suffocated you in a bear hug. 

“I love you so much, hermanita. And I would have understood if you wanted to quit, but I love playing with you and I am so, so happy.” She told you, rather vulnerably. “I’m going to be better. I am going to make sure no one puts too much pressure on you, especially me. I won’t mess up again, nena, I promise. I won’t ever let you think that I care more about football than about you.” 

You buried your face in her shoulder, sniffling slightly. “I love you too.” 

It wasn’t just about missing football. It was about knowing, really really knowing, that your performance wouldn’t change how your sister looked at you, or how your teammates looked at you. You’d spent the last three weeks learning from Ana to see yourself as a person separate from your abilities on the pitch. You were good and worthy of love no matter how you played. And with that weight off your shoulders, you knew you wouldn’t care as much about being in Alexia’s shadow. You could just be proud of her. And be proud of yourself. You hadn’t needed school the way you thought you did, and you hadn’t needed to quit football. You had just needed to be honest with your sister, and be a bit kinder to yourself. 

The following season, you would play better than you ever had. You found your place on the pitch and within the team, and you set yourself aside as your own person. Even if you were known as a great footballer, you would still always be known as Alexia’s sister. And you didn’t want to change that, because it was your favorite thing to be. 

--------

hope you enjoyed! ❤️ leave a comment if you want, they make me v happy! :)

[luuuuucyscorner]

𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮- 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧

Info: Tashi takes it too far with art and her protege

Tags: Angst I think? , Kissing, Tashi being a bitch, sort of reader x Tashi

Word count: 1,530

A/n: I'm rusty sorry if this is trash

Art and Tashi are greedy, and they know it. How else had their marriage come about, after all? If not greed, for one another—for different parts, different pieces, different people. And then, you had come along.

You'd practically dropped into their laps. Since Art had retired, Tashi had been itching for someone to sink her claws in, to sharpen raw talent into excellence. You—a pretty young thing, short-skirted and starry-eyed as you wielded your racket like a weapon in the Juniors Australian Open, to France to Wimbledon and all the way to a Grand Slam.

Tashi wanted you. Had to have you—and what Tashi wanted, Art wanted.

You melted like putty in their hands. Art's Career Grand slam was still fresh, and even if it weren't—you've known their names for as long as you've been able to hit a ball with a racket.

Its been a year since then, and under their tutelage; the world has become your oyster—the tennis world, anyways (which is the only world that matters). It's why, currently, you're sandwiched in-between Art and Tashi on the couch of a five-star hotel; TV replaying your game footage as Tashi gives commentary—harsh, but in-fucking-valuable.

Tashi's midway through an extensive analysis of your backhand, when her leg shifts and you're suddenly hyper-aware of the way her thigh presses into yours. Her words bleed away in the rush of warmth to your cheeks.

Art also seems more pre-occupied with kneading his hand in slow, tender circles down your back. It feels nice. Familiar. It doesn't help the way your thoughts are drifting, as if the two people crammed beside you are not literally married, and why would it matter that they're still leaning into your sides even though there's so much space on either side of the couch—

"Hey." Tashi's hand squeezes your knee, nails digging into your skin. "You want to be good or not?" She's sharp, scalding—but a smirk plays at her lips. Your cheeks burn. Art exhales, a low, breathy chuckle. Wife, husband and protégé.

"of course i do" you tell her nervously

'So easy', Art can't help but muse to himself, and his own eyes are drawn to the faintest pink flush of your cheeks. Tashi's face remains neutral. Her eyes fix on the screen. No expression, no expression. The only tells are in the slight, nearly imperceptible stiffening of her shoulders.

“So.” Tashi cocks her head, her dark brown eyes flicking to yours for a moment. “You’re not hitting as hard as you could be from your left side.”

"You know I've had an injury recently" you mutter.

“It’s been months.” There’s a tinge of impatience in Tashi’s voice now. “Do you want to keep making excuses, or do you actually want to fix the problem. Your game today was sloppy—your forehand needs work, L/n.”

your mouth presses into a thin line and you look away from her reservedly.

“C’mon, love.” Art tries to offer some semblance of assurance. His thumb strokes across the line of your shoulder blades, a touch that’s soothing and tender—but also possessive. Greedy.

Tashi’s nails dig just a little harder into your knee. “We’re only trying to help you out,” she adds. There’s a beat of silence. Then— “Do you think we like watching you lose, L/n?”

"I won today Tashi. I was good"

She scoffs sharply. “You were good? Don’t make me laugh. You know, I’ve seen your junior games. I’ve seen your first few grand slams since you started going big. This year? You’ve been—,” Tashi gives a short, dry laugh, shaking her head.

“You can’t even finish a game with less than five unforced errors. Your game today was so full of mistakes… it’s a wonder you even won the second set.”

She's still touching you. both of them are still touching you. tears begin to well in your eyes "I understand".

Tashi sees those unfallen tears, that first hint of fragility, and her expression hardens. “No, no, you don’t understand. You need to be hard—you need to be better. You’ve let too much get to you, L/n, and it shows in your game.”

"fine" you raise from the couch, their hands falling off of you, and walk to the door of the hotel, sitting in the hall outside.

They watch you walk out, and when Art makes to follow you, Tashi’s hand snaps out, latching onto his wrist. “Wait.”

Art raises a brow. The look in her dark eyes is hard and implacable as iron, with a hint of something dangerous flickering within. Tashi leans in, murmuring quietly so they can’t be overheard.

“It’s getting to her. You know it is. She’s too sensitive for her own good—not mentally tough enough.”

Then Tashi raises her eyes to Art's "she's like you"

At this, Art stills. The breath in his lungs hitches, his pulse stuttering in a flicker of panic. A million different insecurities and fears flash through his mind.

He manages a laugh—low, nervous—but Tashi’s expression remains implacable. It doesn’t even waver.

“She’s—she’s not like me,” he insists. "I made it to a Career Grand-slam"

Tashi scoffs again. “Yeah, on your second try. And Y/n’s on the fast track to the same. She’s good Art—great, even. But you know she’s not tough. You know she’s soft—she’s gonna break if we’re not careful.”

"if you're not careful" he says carelessly.

That makes Tashi give him a look, and it’s suddenly sharp, a little dangerous. The grip on his wrists tightens. “Art. Listen. You need to get tougher. Not just with her—you’ve gotten too soft, too. And that’s how you lose—that’s how you lose everything."

There’s something almost pleading under her words. Like she’s saying something more.

"cant you just let me be retired?" he begs, voice almost a whisper.

“No!” The word is sharp as a whip, and Art’s eyes widen in surprise as it rings out. Tashi stands, the line of her body stiff. Anger flickers in her gaze. “You don’t get to do that, Art. You’ve been retired less than a year, and you’re already slacking. Letting yourself go soft—slacking off on training, and working, and…”

She huffs out a sharp breath and turns away, clenching her fists. “I hate it when you do that.”

She turns away dismissively and Art walks over to the door and sits down next to you on the hallway carpet.

You're a pitiful sight. Curled up in the hallway of a five-star hotel, face buried against your knees, shoulders shaking in nearly silent sobs—and as Art settles beside you, the shuddering of your shoulders grows stronger, and your tears run more freely.

Wordlessly, he draws you into his embrace, wrapping you up in his broad, warm arms and pulling you against his chest.

Art lets you cry. Lets his hold tighten a little as you lean into him.

"I-I'm try-ing" you sob.

“I know. I know…shh…” Words soothe you gently, hands rubbing against your back and soothing the shivers in your spine in slow, tender circles.

Art's face is pressed into the top of your head, breath hot against your hair as you're half-curled into his lap. He's so careful around you, always, so gentle—because you're too easy to crack, too fragile, too inexperienced to know any better.

"We have to go back in" he mumbles into your hair, "We can't let anyone see you like this"

He doesn’t have to say the reasoning—it’s obvious.

If the press got a sniff of this? Of a junior player crying in the hallway? You’d be mocked to hell and back again.

Tashi would never let you live it down.

“Hey…shh, come on… it’s alright.” Art’s voice is soft and soothing. His breath is warm against your hair, every bit of him warm and gentle and caring.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, a gesture you could almost mistake for affectionate—if he weren’t married, and you weren’t his protégé.

You begin to calm down and allow Art to pull you gently onto your feet.

Once you’re standing, Art’s hands are careful, guiding you back into the room and onto the couch.

Tashi glances at you for a brief moment; there’s no trace of pity in her gaze or emotion. It’s cold, analytical—but you notice the way she takes in the way you’re tucked under the protective shadow of Art’s broad figure. There’s something like jealousy in her eyes for a moment.

"Tashi, I'm sorry." you mumble tiredly "If it's alright with you, I'd like to go to sleep now, I promise to get back on track"

Tashi’s eyes are still fixed on you for a moment before she gives a soft exhale, nodding. “Go.”

Art offers no opposition, and a moment after she’s finished speaking, he guides you out. His palm rests on the small of your back, a hand far too large to be that delicate but still moving with a gentleness that’s almost reverent.

He sends an appreciative nod to his wife as he leads your tired body into the bedroom and helps you position yourself under the sheets. He runs his fingers soothingly through your hair until you begin to drift off, sighing heavily.

[darkbluekies]

What is your yandere's reaction if their darling suddenly asks, "You'd rather have me dead than let me go, right?"

Warnings: mentions of isolation, captivity, death, threats,

Silas:

He would be appalled to hear that. That's not at all what he's doing ― or trying to convey. All he wants is you to be with him, and to not do stupid things that could cause pain for the both of you. He would try to take you in his arms, try to cach your attention.

"No, what? What are you saying? Never in a million years would I want you dead! But I can't let you go, I can't be without you. You're mine and you're stuck with me. That's that. No one is leaving and no one is dying. Say such nonsense again and I will show you that being dead is far worse than being stuck with me."

Dr Kry:

He stares at you, absolutely shocked to hear you say that. How could you ever think that he wants you harm? He doesn't want to hurt you ... it is just necessary, But he doesn't expect you to understand that. Your poor, pure brain is foggy with medicine, you're not in your best state. Dr Kry would try to comfort you to the best of his ability, knowing that there is no reason to try to hide it anymore.

"Darling, you are my most beloved patient ... do you think I want to hurt you? I am doing this to keep you safe. If I didn't, who knows what would happen to you? You could run around and hurt yourself. The world is menacing and would destroy you. You are so perfect, so pure. I don't want you dead. Never."

King Edmund:

He would give you a long look, hesitating on what to say. He doesn't want you to leave him, wouldn't be able to live without you. But would he rather have you dead? Yes, he would rather have you dead than sharing you with anyone. You are for his eyes only, created for him by a higher power that saw what he needed.

"You're damn right in that. You think anyone else is worthy of having you? I don't share anything else in my life, do I? No, exactly. But you don't have to worry about dying, my jewel. It's not like I'm going to let you leave?"

Jerry:

Jerry would weigh the outcomes. You dead ... or you gone? The only light in her life being put out without a chance to ever return ... or alive? It's a clear question ... and a clear answer, but she won't let you know that.

"Have you gone mad? I'm not even going to answer such a stupid fucking question. I'll teach you what happens when asking such stupid ass questions."

Hedwig:

The question would break her. She doesn't want to keep you locked in her room and it certainly doesn't help her case that you like to sit in the window and gaze longingly out towards the garden. She wants things to go back to how they used to be. But to do that, she would have to let you go. Would she rather have you dead? No, of course not. Not in a million years. She wouldn't be able to ansswer the question, only replay it in her head until she couldn't take it anymore. She would press her hands to her ears and crouch down, shaking her head.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop .... please, stop. Stop saying that! I don't want that! None of it! Stop! Oh, my God, stop, please ..."

[rosesaints]

hello i saw ur yuuta piece and loved how u write !! could u write smth similar perhaps for megumi 🤧🤧 he needs more love .. 🍀

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟcollege student!megumi fushiguro hc dump

pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!reader warnings: 18+ mdni, mix of sfw and nsfw content under the cut, a very obscenely american depiction of college, just me pouring my heart out to the most perfect underrated college bf ever. wc: 1300

college student!megumi fushiguro who enrolls in university as a biology major, minoring in english on the pre-veterinarian track, carefully selecting his college after agonizing over whether or not he wanted to be a writer or a vet, ultimately choosing the latter after an impressive tour of a research lab with leaders on the field who eagerly and enthusiastically answer every single one of his questions, no matter how miniscule or thorough. goes home with a stupid grin on his face that yuuji won't stop taking pictures of—"yuuji, would you chill the fuck out? it was just a college tour."

college student!megumi fushiguro goes home and quickly accepts his offer, orders two sweaters from the university's online tour, visits tsumiki at the hospital and tells her all about where he plans to go for the next four years.

college student!megumi fushiguro who has a very, very eventful freshman year—

he takes public transport around campus, has an old, beaten up pair of headphones that he probably got from thrifting, listens to beach house, cocteau twins, the neighbourhood, cigarettes after sex, sometimes songs that nobara and yuuji have recommended to him in the groupchat. acts like the brooding, silent type, until you accidentally knock into him during a nasty bump on the road, and he very quickly loses his composure and helps you out, beats himself up afterwards for not getting your name

finds you later at his biology lab, pleasantly surprised and trying to force down any visible signs of excitement when you get paired together for the rest of the semester. lets you take his phone without any fuss to type your number down, keeps the heart you've left besides your name and texts you that night to make plans to go on a date work on the lab report due that week

mentions you offhandedly during the debrief dinner he has at least a couple times a week with yuuji and nobara, frowns when they freeze and look at each other in that skitterish, excited way that they do when they're in on something together. "megumi, you never, ever talk about girls!"

he finds every excuse to see you outside of class. "damn, i guess we're gonna have to work on the report later, i'll see you at 6?" or "i think we need to talk about the objectives over some lunch at this new sushi place in town, anyway—"

you go along with it because it's so painfully obvious, but you don't have the heart to break whatever cool guy, aloof persona he's kind of determined to uphold (megumi, please, for the love of god, just learn how to ask someone out on a date)

he works hard to find new places he thinks you'll like and at some point, you guys just stop working on reports altogether and just start having fun around campus

sends you game pigeon texts throughout the day, lets you win at 8ball, but never, ever backs down from word hunt. he will score 30k points over you and not break a sweat.

rolls up his lab coat once in class and your brain short-circuits, man has an insane sleeper build, grabs your microscope slides for you and easily returns your microscope for you. "you okay?" "yup! completely and totally fine!"

i cannot stress enough how oblivious he is, though. you guys go to parties together, he grabs your drinks for you, holds your waist when someone gets too rowdy, and leave together. somehow, this man still thinks you don't reciprocate his feelings.

he wants to confess, he does, but there's all these logistics and things he has to plan for, has to do it in just the right way, at the right place, wracks his head at night trying to think of a way to just tell you. yuuji calls him fucking stupid one night and for once, he agrees.

gets too busy fussing and concerning over what he would do when the time comes, doesn't even stop and consider the fact that you might just beat him to it!

"'gumi," he literally has his head on your lap while he's doing an assigned reading for class, and it's probably one of the most peaceful days he's had in a while, but the way you smile and say his name makes his heart skip a beat. "wanna go out with me?"

man, it's like the floodgates open after that. he gets so much more direct and confident—"we're gonna go volunteer at that animal shelter this weekend," and "i'm picking you up for dinner, is chinese okay?"

not the type for public displays of affection, but makes sure you're in his orbit all the time, somehow. glances across the lab when your professor blunders in the middle of the lecture, a hand on the small of your back while he maneuvers you through the street, places his hand above yours on the train while you're holding onto the pole

takes photos of you all the time, has a collection of different cameras, makes yuuji take photos of you and him on nights out with the disposable camera, photos of you looking absolutely adorable on the digital camera, and dumb, funny photos of you that you hate but he loves

nights spent at his dorm watching trashy reality shows (he acts like he doesn't give a shit but gasps louder than you whenever someone gets slapped), studying for your next exam only to end up making out on the floor, cooking ramen noodles just to end up making out on his twin bed, getting ready together and making out when he hoists you up to the counter and knocks all his (and your) shit over. "gumi, i still have toothpaste in my mouth—" "hm, i like mint."

loves loves loves to kiss you. will have hours-long make out sessions in his dorm or yours, will keep going even if your roommate walks in, doesn't even register their presence—too focused on whatever flavor of lip gloss you've got on or that cute top you're wearing that day

his second favorite thing to do is to leave marks in places only he can see. doesn't mean to do that, he swears, but you can see a ghost of a smile when he helps readjust the straps of your dress to hide a blooming hickey on your shoulder.

has this dumbstruck look on his face when you have sex for the first time, gasps and grips your ass with a strength that you were only vaguely aware of when you sink down on his length for the first time, low groans and narrowed eyes. "god, i think you're gonna kill me."

slowly ends up being the one to control the pace, bouncing you up and down on his dick for his own pleasure, even as you're squealing and scratching his back and deliriously trying to thrust back, only to be overpowered

could eat you out for hours, but also loooooves receiving head, loves the way your eyes shimmer when you take him deeper into your throat, the gagging, lewd noises that you make and the way you look up at him, asking if that was good. "that was fucking amazing. 10/10, no notes."

remember how he takes photos of you all the time? he has some polaroids of you in some.... scandalous positions hidden in his drawer that he likes to... use in times of desperation

doesn't initiate a whole lot at the beginning because he's still in the "learning phase," but once he gets you to cum within two minutes, it brings out his competitive spirit. "wonder how many more times you can cum again... think you got another two in you?"

basically living together by the end of the year, because he sleeps better when you're near and his whole dorm is littered with mementos that remind him of you. has that coffee blend you love in his kitchen cabinet, your toothbrush on the other side of his, and when he comes back from lecture to see your smiling face hanging upside down from his futon, thinks he might just want to spend the rest of his life with you.

© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. requests are OPEN .ᐟ

[jesuistrestriste]

ART 👏🏾 DONALDSON 👏🏾IS 👏🏾 A👏🏾 THIGHS 👏🏾 MAN👏🏾

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk

art likes anything that has to do with your thighs. he truly lives and breathes for any opportunity to play with them, and he'd be lying if he said that it wasn’t like a moth to a flame.

when you're sitting down on the couch, he has his head in your lap resting over your thighs.

when you're laying down with him in bed, he kneads and squeezes and palms your fleshy limbs under the covers. it helps him sleep sometimes. it also makes him ever so slightly (very much) aroused, but he usually tries to ignore that at bedtime when you're already exhausted.

when he's down on his knees for you, your panties off and your legs spread, he makes sure to give your thighs extra attention. 'tender loving care', he had called it one time. eating you out makes him cum quick, usually untouched, so he opts to kiss and suckle and nip at your thighs for a while beforehand so that he can delay this (and hopefully make you cum before he gets a chance to). he leaves tons of lovebites every time, but you like the way they look when you're naked in the mirror before a shower or when you're getting dressed, so it doesn’t really matter. he, of course, loves the look of them too. he likes looking at the small, muddled patches of purple and red on your delicate skin. it makes him feel proud. among other things..

one year, on his 29th birthday, he had sheepishly asked you something that you were surprised he hadn't asked years prior.

"Can I— only if you want to— but can I please fuck your thighs..?"

and wow, did that get your core bubbling with heat.

it was his birthday, so of course you had said yes. even if it wasn't his birthday, you knew you didn't need to be asked twice. you'd give him whatever he asked for — he was always so good to you, so he deserved it all.

first, he bent you over the bed, one hand pressing down on the small of your back, and then he pulled down your underwear. he slipped two fingers over your soaking folds and slid them back and forth to feel you; little moans slipping out of lips as his cock throbbed and bobbed in front of him. you actually felt his tip brush against your ass a few times as he struggled to resist the urge to just drop to the floor and lick you all over.

he knew he wouldn't last long just from feeling you up like that, so he then took his cock in his hand and gingerly slotted it between your thighs and right below your mound. you had hung your head down against the comforter as his had tipped back in pure, unadultered pleasure. his brows knitted together as an anguished whine spilled out from his chest.

he started out slowly, sliding his leaking cock in and out of where it was trapped between your limbs, but he had gotten close much faster than he usually had when he was actually inside you. every thrust had his cockhead bumping and rubbing your clit. he picked up the pace pretty quickly, rapidly pumping himself back and forth as you crossed your legs and squeezed your plush thighs together to give him more needed pressure. you knew what he liked, you knew what would make him feel best, and you knew that you had wanted to make that birthday gift feel special, so you started to talk a little here and there. you mumbled obscenities, some praise, and groaned out words that you were certain would make his brain fuzzy.

"you like my thighs, babe?"

“you like fucking my pretty legs?”

“doin’ so good, art.. god, i feel you leaking..”

he keened, nodding behind you as his cock pulsed.

"Mm— yeah, yes.. oh my god, yes.. yes yes yes-!”

it didn't take long for him to grip your hips as he bucked against you, spilling a hot sticky load between your squishy flesh as he used your body to stroke his tip.

after he came down, his forehead on the nape of your neck, he whispered something to you as his legs trembled.

"Can we do that again tomorrow night?"

and of course, you had said yes.

[daydreaming-nerd]

for the bat boys (or bat boys x feyre), I really wanna see rhys just tied down, desperate, and overwhelmed with pleasure. like everybody just decides to show their high lord some love!! I wanna see rhys in tears (in a good way), and they just praise him and love on him so good!! I can def see rhys having a major praise kink. feel free to ignore tho, thank you!!💖

Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader) 

Based off this ask as well

AN: HAHAHA guys I’ve been reading The L.O.R.D.S series by Shantel Tessier and I’ve been fucking loving it. Also I wrote the second half of this in a fucking Barnes and Noble cafe, I was SWEATING, but I wanted to get it done for you because I have some cool Az stuff I’m working on for you!

Summary: When Rhysand becomes High Lord the boys find themselves too busy and too well known to visit their local pleasure house. So they hire the reader to to satisfy their needs.

Warnings: Smut (shocker),sub/dom dynamic, dirty talk, bondage, threesome, objectification, size difference??

Word count: 6,058

Things in Velaris were changing. The second the new High Lord rose to power it was like things were lighter. Shops stayed open later, the people laughed and drank at dinner more often, everything was just better. Yet in the Riverhouse at the edge of the city it seemed there were clouds stirring, in a metaphorical way of course. 

No one had seen Rhysand since the night his father died, which was months ago. 

The most powerful High Lord.

The most dangerous High Lord. 

The most handsome High Lord

And known by the girls at the pleasure house…the most well endowed High Lord.

At least what all my coworkers were whispering around me the day I was brought to the front by the mistress who ran the place. In all honesty I thought I was in trouble, not that I had done anything wrong in the past year I had been here. But no one ever got called to her office for nothing. 

I closed the door behind me to where my mistress was reading a letter, a violet wax seal stamped to the front. Her red hair and red gown complimented the scarlett of her office, of the whole pleasure house really. She claimed it was the color of passion, and demanded that we all practically bathe in it. 

“You asked to see me?” I say timidly. 

I couldn’t afford to lose this job, I had no family, no support system. Nothing to rely on or depend on. Sure it wasn’t the most prestigious career, but I did like it. I had always been interested in sex, fascinated with it really. The woman who lived next door to my family growing up was a sex worker. She always wore the most beautiful gowns and jewels, and lured the most handsome men to her home. My mother cursed me when I said I wanted to look like her one day but I didn’t care. 

“Yes I have a letter here, from the High Lord,” she says, showing me the letter she had been reading when I walked in. 

My eyes widen and the air is sucked from my lungs. What could the High Lord want with the house? Hell, what would the High Lord want with me? 

“The High Lord?” I gawk, taking a step forward attempting to catch a glance at the letter. 

She puts her glasses back down on her nose and reads the paper again, “yes, he asks that I send my very best girl to his townhouse at my earliest convenience.” 

“And you’re picking me?” I ask, my eyes wide. 

“You rake in more money than all the rest of the girls, you’re beautiful, elegant and well versed. I can think of no one better.” she explains setting the letter down on the desk.

My mind swirls, what does the High Lord want? Well sex of course, but I wasn’t one for house calls. Though I suppose he was the High Lord , he couldn’t very well walk in here with the anonymity that others could. 

“Well don’t just stand there!” my mistress shouts. “Go to the townhouse before he thinks me to be a simple fool.” 

I jilt from my thoughts and nod, walking briskly out the door. I bypass the other girls who are chatting about the High Lord and I wonder if any of them are aware of the letter that was sent, what his intentions might be. I guess there’s only one way to find out. 

I had watched the townhouse on the hill my entire life, knew that the High Lord lived there, and constantly wondered what it might be like inside. It was like the scary house at the end of the street that children stayed away from; it had been built up to that mythical status. Except it wasn’t scary—unless you counted scarily prestigious.

As I walked up the front steps and knocked on the door a woman with dark skin and   darker hair opened it and signaled for me to come in. The lush, thick, carpets gave reprieve to my aching feet. Stilettos on cobblestone was never a good idea, but what else did one wear to meet their High Lord? 

She gestured to a set of double doors at the end of the hall. I took in my surroundings, for what it was worth the place was beautiful. Ornate but tasteful. Expensive but lived in. I can see why the High Lord never left. I took a deep breath but before I could even knock on the doors a deep voice, one that could only be described as Night Triumphant, beckoned me to enter. 

I creaked open the door to find the High Lord busily doing paperwork at his desk. He was nothing and everything that I had expected. When the girls at the home whispered of his looks, his charm, I thought of something mythical. But the male before me? He transcended even that. 

His legendary violet eyes flitted up to mine and I swore my breath caught in my throat. He sat his papers down to the side as he stood, bracing his hands on his desk. If his height didn’t make me feel small the sheer power radiating off of him did. 

“My, my,” he croons, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “You are exquisite,” he says, crossing his strong arms in front of his chest. 

I suddenly remember the reason I was summoned here in the first place and I put on the mask, the role I was supposed to play. 

“Well my Lord, you asked for the very best.” I say smoothly taking two steps towards him. “So here I am.” 

“While I love the way ‘my Lord’ rolls off that pretty tongue, feel free to call me Rhysand, you’re going to be here for a while.” he smirked, and I swore there was a star that flashed in his eye. 

I nearly gulped at his words. 

You’re going to be here for a while…

I had been with needy men before, made a career out of it. But this was no man, and I wondered if I could keep up with him. 

“As you wish,” I say nodding my  head obediently. Males like him strived for dominance, it was my job to anticipate that. 

I feel a hand tilt my chin up and once again I’m met with his intense gaze. I was right about the stars, his eyes were littered with them. 

“The selfish part of me wants to play with you right now, but I have a feeling my brothers would be more than angry at me for having you first,” he smirked, his breath so hot on my face I almost jumped when I realized how close he was to me. 

Wait, the High Lord didn’t have brothers, he was an only child, an orphan really. “Brothers?” I ask, the question had slipped out before I could think of a better more professional way to ask. 

“Well not my biological brothers, but my brothers in arms I suppose,” he smirks, releasing my chin taking a step back towards his desk again. “Cassian, the general of my armies and Azriel my spymaster.” 

My breath gets caught in my throat. I had heard stories of the High Lord’s most trusted members of his court. They were large, Illyrian, and death on swift wings. My face must’ve given away my shock as Rhysand let out a low chuckle. 

“Don’t worry they won’t hurt you. They are to care for you as I do, it’s all written here in your contract,” he explained, sitting down and sliding a piece of paper over the desk. 

I made myself comfortable in the seat opposite of him, plucking the paper from the desk and skimming it over.

“You see,”  he begins. “Becoming High Lord has been rewarding but…well…tiring. Cassian and Azriel are just as tired. We aren’t given the same anonymity we had in our youth which has made finding sexual release difficult.” he said, his cheeks blushing slightly. 

“You’ll live here, I already have a room prepared for you. I’ll provide you with a salary  and provide for you in any way you need. In return you provide us with your…services?” he says the last word like he can’t think of a better way to say it. How is he sexy reading my contract to me?

I set the contract on the desk, “And what are the parameters of these services?” I ask leaning forward on the desk. 

Rhysand smiles leaning forward with me, “Mostly we will seek you out on our own but there will be certain times, like tonight, where we will want to share,” he grins like he can already see the scene. 

I nod slowly waiting for him to add anything else and he does. 

“Of course there will be safewords, though I doubt you will need them. Your mistress said you have a rather large palette,” he says and I get his meaning immediately. 

I can’t help but blush, the male already knows more about me than I do him. Something that rarely ever happens in my line of work.

“She didn’t mislead you,” I say, my lips tugging into a small smile. 

“Then you’ll take the job?” he asks plucking a fountain pen from its resting place. 

I look at the large number with lots of zeros written under ‘Salary’, it’s more than I make in three months. I could pay off all my debts with the first two paychecks, and after that? Well the shops of Velaris wouldn’t know what hit them. I could have the life I always dreamed of, expensive silks, fancy soaps, wine aged for thousands of years. And all I had to do was sleep with the three most powerful males in the Night Court. What female could possibly say no?

“I will,” I say, plucking the pen out of the High Lord’s hands singing the marked places next to his ornate signature. 

I look up to see Rhysand already staring at me, with a lust I hadn’t seen before, not in any male. How long had it been since he had sex?

He stands holding his hand out to me, “Allow me to show you to your room.”

“Are you ready to meet them?” Rhys asks with a glint in his violet eyes. 

I nod.

“Good I’ll go preface in, come in when I call you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 

Gods this man was incredible. Paycheck aside, I think I would bend over backwards just to hear him call me a good girl again. Something told me I would be doing just that for the foreseeable future. 

Rhysand opened the double doors and slipped in, the moment he closed it I pressed my ear to the door so that I could hear him. 

“Rhys what’s this about? I have business to attend to,” I hear a deep voice rumble. 

Rhys’ signature chuckle echoes off the walls, “I assure you Cassian that this is well worth your time.” he says. “Az you look tense,” he jests. 

“That’s because I am.” groans another voice. “We’ve been running all around the court righting all wrongs while you sit holed up in here doing paperwork.” 

“As I am well aware,” Rhys starts again. “And I don’t want to be known as the High Lord that merely takes, especially from the two males  I consider to be my brothers. So, I got you a little gift.” 

A pause of anticipatory silence fills the room. 

“Darling won’t you come out now?” Rhys beckons me. 

I open the door to find Rhys standing before two Illyrians sitting on the couch, both of them relaxed like this was their own home, and perhaps it was. 

“Huh?” asked the slightly larger one, with longer black hair. 

“She’s your gift, well, our gift,” Rhys said, pulling a hand around my waist. “I just hired her from the pleasure house in town, she is the best of the best. I know we all haven’t been able to visit the establishment since I came into power and I’m sure you’re both just as…frustrated as I am.” 

“How long do we have her for?” the same Illyrian asked, the one beside him seemingly more quiet. 

“She will be living with us. Use her as you’d like. Dress her however you want, but keep it classy. She’s as much yours as she is mine” Rhys smiles tilting my chin to meet his gaze and I swore my knees trembled a bit. “Though I’m sure she’ll remember who pays her?” he teases. 

“Yes my Lord,” I say seductively, it used to be an act, but not anymore. 

“My Lord,” he repeats. “I quite like the sound of that,” he purrs, looking over to the males sitting on the couch. 

The one with the red siphons smirks, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and spreading his legs. His thighs alone were the size of my head and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to get myself off on them alone. 

“Come here princess, sit on my lap,” he purrs, patting his thigh. 

I slip out of Rhysand’s grasp and pad over to perch myself on the Illyrians leg. The rippling muscles under me tensing. His hand comes up to brush a stray hair from my face as he takes in every inch of me. 

“You are a pretty little thing aren’t you?” he smirks as his other hand comes to support my back. 

Oh I was in for it, I was so in for it. 

“She’s the best of the best, her name is y/n.” Rhysand drawls watching intently as his brother who I have deciphered is Cassian, inspects me. “We decided earlier that her safeword will be starlight,”

“Y/n, huh?” he smiles brushing a stray hair from my face as he drinks in my attire, something Rhysand had clearly purchased for me to wear tonight. A black sheer little nightgown. Revealing, yet classy like he has said. It was clear to me that the male had exquisite taste. 

I feel a warm leather bump into my back as a scarred hand runs over my shoulder. I crane my neck up to find Azriel standing above me, from where he stands he can no doubt get a great view of my tits. 

“How should we thank dear old Rhysand for this marvelous present?” Cassian asks Azriel and the shadow singers eyes gleam.

“Oh I can think of a few ways,” he smirks. 

As if they all had one mind we were winnowed to the bedroom upstairs, my bedroom I realized. The bed had been made big enough for all of us, and I wonder how empty it would feel when the boys weren’t around. 

I look around me, the positions of us all haven’t changed. I find myself gazing up at Azriel, the hungry look in his eye has me taking a step back only to bump right into Cassian earning a chuckle from the general.  A glace to my bed has me seeing Rhysand sitting on it’s edge. 

“Az,” Cassian mumbles, sharing a knowing look at the shadow singer.

Before I can put together the pieces of Cassian and Azriel’s interaction, bands of shadows shoot from all over the room wrapping themselves around the hands and wrists of the High Lord. Rhys struggles for a moment, like it's second nature before he gives in, his face stern. 

“Az that’s enough,” he scowls. 

Azriel brushes off the command and turns my chin to meet his gaze. His finger brushes over my  bottom lip and I close my top lip over his thumb, giving it a gentle experimental suck. His eyes darken and the next thing I know I’m sucking on his thumb and looking at him like a doe eyed fool. 

“What a good girl she is,” he croons before dragging my face to him, replacing his thumb with his lips. 

His kiss and deep and searing, like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. His hands come to cup my face, keeping me there as he kisses me like a starved male. Gods, how long had it been since any of them had sex?

My hair is pushed to the side as I feel the general begin to leave sloppy kisses on my neck. He pulls my hips toward him, and I’m met with his hard on pressed to my back and his bare chest warming my skin. Azriel steps back with love drunk eyes and Cassian takes his opportunity to turn my hips so I’m facing him. 

Somehow he’s even more hulking and intimidating when bare. My eyes glance over the expanse of well built muscles to where his cock is already hard and leaking, and by the size of it I could tell I would be sore tomorrow. 

From behind me I can hear the faint unclasping of buckles signaling that Azriel is mimicking Cassian’s movements. 

“Let’s see you now, little one,” the general smirks before sliding both straps of the see through the gown off my shoulders. The black mesh falls to a pool of fabric on the floor and I’m laid bare for him, for all of them. 

A snap reverberates through the room pulling my attention to Rhysand, his sophisticated garb now long gone. The plains of his toned muscles and swirling tattoos that resemble his brothers on full display along with his aching cock. He’s even more marvelous nude than he is clothed. His lips tug up at the corner as he sees me eye fucking him. 

Cassian’s hand goes under my bare breast bringing my attention back to him, it seems that while I was ogling Rhys, he was studying me. 

“Rhys you’ve outdone yourself,” Cassian smirks and I’ve never felt so exposed. “Her tits are perfect,” he smiles before bending down to suckle an aching nipple into his mouth. 

I moan and lean back ever so slightly into a muscled chest, when I open my eyes Azriel stares down at me. A scarred hand drifts over my shoulder, down my side, and across my bum until it cups my sex and I gasp. 

Cassian’s lips smile against my breast before he moves on to the next one, my breath catching in my throat once again. 

“So small,” Azriel teases, referring to my cunt. “I’m not sure she can take us.” The glint in his eye tells me that this is a challenge, a test. 

“I can,” I say confidently and the shadowsinger laughs. 

“I think I’ll test that out,” Cassian grumbles, taking me in his arms. 

I’m pulled from Azriel’s fiery touch as the warmth of Cassian seeps into me. For the first time in a while my eyes snap to Rhysand. His brow was laced with sweat, as well as the skin on his chest. 

“Oh poor Rhys, did you want to touch her?” Azriel taunted, I was honestly surprised that they would dare to put their High Lord in this position. 

“Please,” Rhysand whimpered, making my heart lurch. 

Did  the most powerful High Lord, the most dangerous High Lord. the most handsome High Lord, the most well endowed High Lord… just beg? 

A sudden boost of confidence fills my chest. 

“Az pull him back on the bed, I’m going to be needing some room,” Cassian boasts massaging circles on my hips. 

Rhysand is pulled to the headboard, the shadows on his wrists pulling his arms out to either side as well as the ones on his ankles, preventing him from getting any sort of friction. The High Lord cursed, as if the brief fiction on his balls from being dragged across the sheets might’ve been enough to get him off.  The logical part of me knew that he could break free of these restraints at any given moment, hells the power practically radiated off of him. But he was here to play the game and I was too. 

“Why don’t you go play with your High Lord a little bit sweetheart,” Cassian croons, clearly loving the power trip he’s on. I take two steps forward before the general grabs me by the throat hauling me to his chest again. I look up at him like a love sick fool. “But stay clear of his cock. He’ll be the last to cum tonight. Doesn’t that seem fair Az?” 

“Seems more than fair to me, seeing as we’ve been doing all the flying around these past few weeks,” Azriel chuckles. 

Cassian releases my throat and I make my way over to the breathless High Lord. It takes everything in me not to straddle him and take him right there. His cock was red, angry, practically begging for it.

I sit on the edge of the bed to his right giving him my best bedroom eyes. Gone was the cocky male from earlier who made all sorts of promises of bedding me the best. Instead a male stripped to his most vulnerable sat before me, chest heaving, eyes wild. The muscles of his arms and legs flexing and bulging from trying to break free of the shadows that bound him, the bindings that made him this way. 

“They aren’t being very fair to you are they?” I say seductively trailing a hand down his shoulders, over the plains of his chest and to his abs. 

He shudders under my touch, “no they aren’t,” he breathes. 

“Mmm,” I hum, placing a kiss on his neck, even the thin sheen of sweat on him tasted divine. “And you were so nice, sharing your little fuck toy with them and now they won’t let me play with you,” I say donning a fake sadness. 

My hand brushes over his hip bone and down his thigh, carefully avoiding the hard erection begging to be brushed. 

“Please,” he whimpers his lips hot on my cheek, and I swear I hear Cassian and Azriel chuckle behind me. 

My hand swoops to his inner thigh, teasing the muscles there. His whimper has me caving, and I feel as though I’m suddenly not acting of my own accord as my hand wanders towards his cock. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” I hear Cassian tut before scooping  me into his arms and pulling me away from Rhys. Causing the latter to groan in frustration. 

“Using daemati to get a female to jerk you off? That’s a new low for you, Rhys.” Azriel chuckles 

Daemati. That would explain why I didn’t feel like I was in control for that one moment. I had heard that the High Lord possessed such powers, but I thought they were simply myths. 

I feel myself being bent over the storage bench at the end of the bed, the cloth covered fluff cushioning my knees and hands as I feel a harsh slap to my bum. 

“Fuck this is going to be so good,” Cassian murmurs from behind me. 

Azriel stands at the other end of the bench fisting his cock but before he can speak Cassian enters me. 

“Oh Gods!” I scream as I feel myself being pushed forward on my hands. 

The stretch of the general filling me so completely had me wondering if Azriel was right about my ability to take them all earlier. Cassian’s hands come to pull me down onto him, as if he needed the help to fully sheathe himself. One hand on my lower back, one on my hip.

“Shit she’s so fuckin’ tight,” Cassian groans as he begins to rock into me.

“Please, please,” Rhysand begs from his spot on the bed. 

I don’t even bother to see the new beads of sweat dripping from his brow, the drops of precum leaking out of his painfully hard cock. Hell, I can’t even think about anything other than the feeling of Cassian picking up the pace behind me. 

“Shh Rhys, I’m enjoying this tight little pus,” Cassian groans, tightening his hold on my hips. 

My arms are starting to go limp when Azriel’s hand tilts my chin up so he can see my fucked out face. 

“Open your mouth little one,” he says, fisting his cock and I obey like a puppet on a string. “What a good girl,” he smirks before tapping his cock on my outstretched tongue. 

“Fuck her mouth Az,” Cassian groans doubling down on his thrusts behind me. 

“You’re such an obedient little thing, I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.” he croons before thrusting his cock inside my mouth. 

The general’s relentless hammering shoves Azriel’s cock down my throat in perfect tandem and I start to wonder if there are other females who have found themselves in my position. With the way they fuck both ends of me so efficiently I wouldn’t doubt it.

It isn’t until my drool is falling down my face mixing with my tears that Azriel grips my hair forcing me down on his cock more. The male became more needy than he had been all night as his soft grunts filled the room. My eyes flitted to his hazel ones and a self satisfied smirk crossed his face. 

“You like this don’t you? You like being fucked in both your little holes?” He teases me, pulling my hair harder. 

His words have me whimpering around him and curling my toes. The spymaster was right, I loved this. That I could make these males, the most powerful in the Night Court, so feral, so unhinged. 

Cassain chuckles behind me slapping my ass again, “Too bad we don’t have someone to fuck this third hole back here,” he says taunting Rhys as I feel him trace a finger over that said third hole. 

“Fuck,” Rhys hisses from where Azriel has him restrained, watching the show they’re giving him. 

I feel my legs starting to tremble beneath me and as they start to give out Cassian swipes both hands under my hips to keep me upright. So upright my knees don't even touch the bench anymore allowing him to fuck me harder, deeper, and faster.

“You going to cum little one?” Cassian taunts me, picking up the pace a bit. 

My whine is enough to have Azriel slamming his hips into my face, spilling himself down my throat as my nose brushes the hair at the base of his cock. For a moment I can’t breathe at all, as I feel his seed spill over my tongue. When he pulls out I finally take in a deep breath, which is short lived as he grabs my chin forcing me to meet his gaze again. 

“Swallow,” he orders. 

I do as I’m told, feeling the thick white ropes slide down my throat, warming my stomach. 

His thumb tugs my jaw down forcing my mouth open as he makes sure every last drop is gone. When he’s satisfied he closes my mouth and gives my cheek a light slap, “good girl.” he mutters. 

“Finally,” Cassian breathes and I feel my front being shoved into the cushions on the bench before me, allowing Cassian to drive deeper. It seems his brother's use of my mouth was quite the inconvenience for him.

I make eye contact with Rhys who's painting and sweating. Moans and curses fall from his lips as he watches Cassian take me hard. It’s not long until I’m cumming around his cock.

“Oh gods!” I scream feeling my legs shake and the knot in my stomach unwind as I cum all over the general’s cock. 

Cassian growls, deep and primal, before delivering one last thrust, spilling himself into me, “That’s a good girl. Take it, take all of it.” he groans, forcing my body down. 

As the Illyrian pulls out of me I can feel my heart beating in my throat and in my head. My chest rises and falls in time with my shaking legs. But I know I’m not done, not while Rhysand looks at me like I’m water and he’s been wandering the deserts of summer for too long.

“You were so good, Rhys,” Cassian taunts, running his hand down the High Lord’s leg making his chest rise faster. “We just wanted to thank you for your wonderful gift, didn’t we Az?” 

Azriel nodded next to me, his scarred hands pulling me up  by my shoulders and then  hoisting me up by my thighs so my back was to his front. The position was more than awkward, but as he placed me on his High Lord’s shaking lap I understood why. 

“Make him feel real good princess, we love our Rhysie,” Azriel laughs upon seeing Rhys breath picking up. Despite his words he kept his restraints on the Lord, one last test. 

I place my hands on his chest, the skin there cold and clammy, and I can’t help but want to feel more. His eyes are blown out, and I feel as though he’s looking right through me. He’s a vision like this, maybe even more so than when he was sitting behind his desk looking like sheer power. He was vulnerable here. 

I run a hand down his face like I’m unable to help it and his eyes widen, “So handsome my Lord,” I breathe. “What do you want from me?” I ask as I press my lips to his.

He can hardly kiss back, can hardly even think besides anything but the need. Beside him his brothers run a hand through his hair and whisper praises to him, trying to bring him back. 

“Anything p-please, t-touch me,” he whimpers and I swear I see a tear roll down his face.  From not being touched at all, to being touched everywhere but where he needs most, the High Lord was being pushed to his limits. 

“Yes my Lord,” I whisper before sinking myself on his cock. 

Where Cassian was thicker, Rhysand was long, digging so deep into me that I felt a pinch as he brushed my cervix. The pain bringing me back from the fuck out haze the spymaster and the general left me in. 

Rhysand hissed low, “Oh fuck yes,” he groans pushing his head back on the headboard. 

Cassian’s hand comes up to brush the fallen hair and sweat from his High Lord’s head, “She’s a tight little thing isn’t she?” he asks, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

I splay my hands across Rhys’ chest, trying to give myself the leverage needed to bounce myself up and down on his cock. The slow drag of him inside of me has me scrunching my eyes shut trying to savor every sensation. My shaking legs make it hard to move myself up and down. 

“More, p-please,” Rhysand groans, his voice dropping deeper and starting to resemble the tone I heard this afternoon. 

“Az give her a hand,” Cassian instructs from where he sits by Rhys. 

I feel Azriel settle in behind me, his warm chest bumping against the clammy skin of my back. His hands lift my hips helping me to bounce up and down like I’m nothing but a cocksleeve. The motion makes me gasp and writhe as I’m able to settle to a faster and more stable pace. 

“Oh fuck Az,” Rhysand bites out. “I can’t,” he groans and I watch the muscles of his chest and arms go taut as he pulls on the shadowy bindings that keep him from touching me. 

The strain in his arms and chest is so great that I can see each individual muscle the Lord had built through the years. I couldn’t help but run my hands over him feeling each one. 

“Let him go Az,” Cassian instructs the shadowsinger and within seconds the bindings are gone, like even Az wanted to see what his High Lord would do next. 

Rhysand’s hands fall from the headboard and find their way to my hips. Turns out him not being able to touch me was a punishment for both of us. He shifts his hips so I fall forward, and he connects his lips to mine as he thrusts up into me, putting me at his mercy.

He consumes my mouth fully, running his hands up and down my sides greedily before squeezing my breast making me moan into his mouth. The way he kisses me tells me that I’m no longer in charge and neither is anyone else in this room for that matter. 

His lips detach from mine and fall to my neck leaving opened mouthed kisses there. His hands leave bruises in the skin of my hips as he slams up into me, his cock hitting my cervix with each stroke, those initial stings of pain becoming pleasure. 

“Oh fuck Rhys,” I moan completely forgetting his title. 

“Say it again,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “Let them know who owns you!” 

I had completely forgotten about the other Illyrians in the room with us. I glance to the side to find Azriel fisting his cock beside me. When I don’t moan the Lord name again a swift slap comes across my ass. 

“Rhysand!” I cry out, feeling the euphoria of him. 

“Fuck it,” he seethes and before I register what he means by it, my back hits the mattress. 

The new position gives him a new range of motion to piston into me. Somehow he’s able to hit me even deeper this way.  Causing me to let out wanton cries and moans as he fucks me, my polished nails scraping down his back trying to find purchase. 

“Yeah Rhys get it!” Cassian cheers from the edge of the bed. 

The taunt makes the High Lord feral, slamming his hips into me. He’s more animal than man at this point having been teased all night. The near primal growl he lets out has me cumming on his cock, my back arching off the back, my moan guttural. 

My cunt squeezes his cock as pleasure lights up my body like lightning, and it isn’t long until  I feel his hips stutter as he cums inside of me with a groan. 

“Oh fuck yes,” his voice is like gravel as I feel him spilling inside of me endlessly, his seed joining Cassian’s. 

Faintly, through the roaring in my ears I can hear Cassian and Azriel’s grunts as well as they finish. The idea of them getting off to their High Lord cumming inside of me is almost enough to make me beg him to do it again. But as he collapses beside me I feel how spent I truly am. 

Rhys hand comes to brush back my hair from my face as he places a kiss to my temple, “Such a good girl for us,” he says to me before turning to Cassian again, “Go get her a towel and a glass of water.” he orders, clearly re-assuming his role as the High Lord. 

He spends the next minute or so running a hand over my hair as he cradles me to his chest soothing me. My breath starts to slow and I feel a warm towel beneath my legs as Cassian wipes away the mess they both made. Glass touches my lips as Rhys helps me to drink the water brought to me. Whatever I don’t finish he downs in one go. 

“Leave us,” he orders pulling the covers over our cold and clammy bodies. 

“What no post sex cuddles for me?” Cassian laughs, throwing up his hands. I laugh before placing a kiss on Rhys chest, as much as I wouldn’t mind all three of them holding me right now I know who pays my bills now. 

“Fine,” Rhys huffs, throwing back the covers behind me so Cass can slip in. 

I wonder where Azriel will lie, but when my eyes search for him he’s already out the door walking to his own room undoubtedly. Something tells me he’s different from his two brothers, he’s quiet, but the words he told me earlier have me wondering what’s up his sleeve.

Cassian’s arms curl around me, and eventually the three of us fall asleep. But the voice that swims through my head as sleep takes me is Azriel’s.

I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you…

(This is going to be a series! I think I'll do one for each bat boy! If you want to be tagged let me know and if there's any kinky shit you wanna see let me know in the comments or drop it in my inbox!)

Taglist: @yearninglustfully, @moviesismylife,  @readingislife2006, @bookishbroadwaybish, @danikamariemain,  @winchesterbbygrl

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark

[wifeyoozi]

mingyu & wonwoo : Still stuffed, one shot, double kill

w.c : 3.1 k ┊ synopsis : boyfriends mingyu and wonwoo give their bestfriend more than you could have bargained for, but you are not complaining┊ content warning : smut , best friends to lovers sorta, bisexual threesome (m/m/f) , oral sex (f + m rec) , edging , hard dom (top) wonu + sub (bottom) gyu + sub reader , slight size kink , (idrk what its called but ig sandwich sex?) , anal (m rec) a/n : note that depiction of mingyu and wonwoo as bisexual is just for the entertainment of this fic and I do not intend to impose any sexuality on them irl. also I was absolutely wasted drunk when I wrote this so I don't even know just nasty threesome.

it was just another video game night with wonwoo and mingyu. it was at your house, like always, because you had a gaming system installed in your bedroom instead of the living room unlike wonwoo and mingyu's shared apartment. and all three of you agreed that the bed was more comfortable to spread out and sit on while gaming.

you yelped from the right side of the bed, having won yet another round (well, technically you came second, but at least you won against mingyu). the screen in front showed the game over slide once again. you sighed and got of the bed to stretch your libs a little.

"i'm getting more beer," you announced seeing all three of your cans empty already, "y'all need anything else?"

"some snacks would be great!" mingyu called out. you took the empty cans to dispose off and left the bedroom.

you, mingyu and wonwoo have been best friends forever. you and mingyu had been childhood friends since you were neighbours. you met wonwoo in highschool and decided immediately to make him part of your little gang. the friendship remained as solid as it could throughout school and college.

wonwoo and mingyu had started dating around last year after pinning over each other for almost 2 years until mingyu asked wonwoo out for a date finally and wonwoo agreed shyly. you knew both boys were in some part of the bisexual spectrum and them dating didn't change a thing in your friendship. you were happy for them and rooted for them all the time, but you'd lie if you were to say you weren't a little jealous. you just wished you had someone to take care of you the way they did of each other. of course, they took care of you almost as well as a boyfriend would, but its been so long since your last relationship that you need more than just care.

meanwhile, mingyu and wonwoo had started making out on your bed in your absence, kissing nastily with wet noises enveloping the room. "mingyu, stop, y/n is gonna come soon," wonwoo whisper yells when he felt mingyu's hand get frisky over his sweatpants.

"i can't help it baby. you're so hot, winning every round like that. you deserve some reward," mingyu argues and wonwoo can't the sound that escapes his throat when mingyu latches his mouth on his neck, "besides, its been so long, i can barely keep away from you."

wonwoo chuckle, "we fucked last night."

"my point, its so long already," mingyu said sucking a hickey on wonwoo's neck. they were too lost in their own world to notice the door opening.

"uhm, guys?" you didn't mean to interrupt them, but you were also not exactly sure what you were supposed to do seeing them make out like animals in heat on your bed. it was hot to see them frisky like that, you had never before seen them get like this, but you had to remind yourself that it was not appropriate to think of your two best friends like that.

"o-oh! y/n! we're so sorry-" wonwoo stumbled to say, pulling away from mingyu and adjusting his glasses back up.

you didn't exactly know how to react. for one, it was difficult to unsee the growing bulges in both boys' pants. it wont be very easy to continue the game again after having that image in your mind. the beer you have had has made you a little horny - its an effect alcohol seems to have on you always - and your hot gay bestfriends weren't making it easier for you.

"whatchu thinking 'bout?" mingyu asks in a more teasing tone, seeing you malfunctioning and just standing in your place like a broken machine, "thinking 'bout joining us?"

mingyu was smacked on his arm by his boyfriend, "gyu! be nicer!"

"what? its not the worst idea," mingyu says, rubbing the spot he'd been hit on, "i remember her mentioning her interest in threesomes last time we got drunk at joey's. besides, i know you find her really hot, you'd love it too, right? i see this as a win-win!"

"i-i never said that!"

"oh but your eyes say it all, baby. i've seen how you check out her ass all the time. i am not complaining, don't worry, i do find her really hot too." mingyu was smacked again.

"boys, boys! what are y'all talking about?" you were dumbfounded. wonwoo checks out your ass!? mingyu finds you hot!? that's some great information to digest. wonwoo and mingyu share glances, as if speaking more than that you can hear with their eyes alone

"say, y/n, i'm horny, nonu is horny, and you could join us if you like, no pressure, but we'd really make it worth your time," mingyu says, looking back at you.

"you don't have to if you don't want to. you could say no and we'd never speak of it again," wonwoo adds.

you think about it seriously. on one hand you were really arounsed and your bestfriends' bulging sizes against their respective pants were sending blood to your crotch and they just offered you for a threesome. then on the other hand, your conscience said it was morally wrong to do this.

fortunately for you and your throbbing pussy, you had just the right amount of alcohol in your system to put your morals aside.

"okay, what the hell," you mumble and jump on the bed between the two, pulling them both by the collar. mingyu giggles as he pins you down and connects his lips to yours instantly. you feel two pairs of hands exploring your body, feeling you up and messing with your clothes. mingyu ravishes your mouth with his tongue, kissing you wet and dirty.

you are surprised when wonwoo pushes aside mingyu's head to take his turn to kiss you. you whine into his mouth, feeling the sudden change. wonwoo can taste mingyu in your mouth still, and the mixed flavours with the taste of your mouth turn him on incredibly. if you thought mingyu was a dirty kisser, wonwoo was worse. his spit was all over the places as he kissed you hungrily and open-mouthedly, and you absolutely loved it.

it must be visible on your face because mingyu chuckled at you, already taking off his clothes, "i should warn you, y/n, wonwoo may look shy and innocent with his nerdy glasses, but he is a complete freak in bed. he is a literal sex monster."

you gasped at mingyu's words. wonwoo took the opportunity to stick his tongue deep down your throat, making you almost choke. then suddenly, it was gone. wonwoo pulled back from you, making you chase his lips, but he pushed you down. he sat up on the bed, taking off his t-shirt, making you whine as he did it all so slowly.

"mingyu, take off her clothes."

mingyu obeyed so. your shirt was pulled off you, your bra taken off at a speed that your think the clasps must've broken, and your shorts yanked off. you felt cold and exposed out in the air, so you tried to approach mingyu to kiss you again, heat your body with his again. but your hair was pulled, making you fall back on the bed with a gasp.

"did i say you could kiss him already?" wonwoo's eyes were dark, and you were scared of him in a hot way which made you want to obey everything he says like a little obedient slut. you were leaking so bad from his strong demeanor, you were sure they both could see the huge dark spot on your panties.

wonwoo leaned by your ears, and whispered softly, "if i make you uncomfortable with my words or action, you can tell me to stop, yeah?"

you nodded, but you didn't plan to. if anything, you wanted him to keep acting meaner to you. you didn't know you would be into being dominated like this until now.

wonwoo snaps at mingyu after that, "open her legs up, kiss her thighs." mingyu does just that, slowly spreading you knees apart and placing buttery wet kisses long your thighs, nearing to your core. you cannot make out if the sound he makes is a laugh or a moan against your soft thighs when he sees how wet you are.

wonwoo snakes his hand down to your breasts, grabbing one in each hand and slowly kneading the flesh. "take her panties off," wonwoo commands mingyu and he does so. "lick her up. she's making a mess, lick all her juices up."

mingyu licks a flat strip along your pussy, his tongue dipping into your folds. wonwoo helps him, reaches a hand to open your outer labia with two fingers, and properly gives mingyu access. mingyu licks a long strip from your slit to your clit and you let out loud whorish moans to let it be known how much you love this.

"squeeze his head with your thighs, he likes that," wonwoo tells you and you comply with him without even thinking. you press your thighs to mingyu's ears, enough to for him to feel the pressure but not so much you'd hurt him. but that's not what wonwoo wants. "more," he he tells you, and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his head until, --

oh. mingyu moaned over your cunt, and you felt the vibrations. wonwoo smirked when he heard it too. he grabbed a hold of mingyu's short hair tightly and pushed his head deeper into your cunt. you understand now. mingyu likes being hurt like this. he likes being controlled by wonwoo. you couldn't hear what wonwoo said next, lost in the thoughts when you suddenly felt a tongue dart into your cunt, earning a choked moan from your lips.

wonwoo leaned down to kiss your nipples, sucking on them and licking them up like a hungry cat. your hands reached over his head, lacing your fingers through his soft hair. you were close already and both the boys could sense it from the way your moans got more erratic and your thighs trembled.

you were just about to reach your high when wonwoo grabbed mingyu's head and pushed him away from your cunt. a cry left your lips, your cunt spasming and clenching around nothing with all sensations gone. you felt tears filling up your eyes as wonwoo leaned down and kissed your lips.

"there, there. it wasn't that bad now, was it? i know a pretty girl like you can take better," wonwoo's words were comforting, as his hands rubbed circles on the side of your hips, but his tone was awfully teasing and it just made you want to cry harder.

wonwoo instructed mingyu to sit up on the bed against the headboard and got you on all fours in front of him so your face was to mingyu and ass to wonwoo who was preparing his dick behind you. mingyu's dick was red and hard against his belly, but he wouldn't dare touch it without wonwoo's instructions. mingyu and wonwoo were a little similar in sizes, you noticed (and it made your mouth salivate), except mingyu was thicker than wonwoo and the latter was longer.

it was more so of a punishment for you too, to just watch his painfully erect dick and not put it in your mouth. hell, you couldn't even kiss his pretty pink pouty lips until wonwoo said you could. you had only spent twenty minutes with wonwoo and mingyu in bed, but you already knew the rules of this game. you knew wonwoo was in charge of everything and you should obey everything he says, otherwise the consequences could be harsh. and that turned you on incredibly.

wonwoo played with his dick, sliding along the length of your slit, teasing you. "wonu, please," you whimpered needily.

"hm? did you say something?" wonwoo said in a fake tone, landing a smack on your ass, only to rub the spot soothingly soon after, "its difficult to hear with this beautiful pussy in front of my eyes."

you whined again, tears falling down your cheeks. mingyu was smirking at you, as if he was in any better position than you with his throbing untouched dick.

"daddy, please, fuck me," you whimpered at wonwoo.

the latter chuckled, slowly pushing his head into your cunt, already prepped and stretched by mingyu's tongue before. "shit, you're so fucking needy. just a needy little slut, arent you? don't worry, i'll fill your pussy up."

he set a high speed for you. you gasp and almost fall face-flat on the bed, only to be held up by mingyu. mingyu's other hand clutched the sheets, trying his best not to lose control. he liked being a good boy for wonwoo. the rough punishment-fuck was good, yes, but he loved the way wonwoo praised him and rewarded him better. besides, he had to be a good role model for you.

wonwoo could see the desperation on his boyfriend's face, and chuckled, deciding he deserved a treat. "mingyu has been a really good boy, don't you think, y/n? why don't you blow his dick, hm?"

wonwoo pushed your head down till your mouth was on mingyu's dick. you licked a long strip lengthwise on his erection, testing and teasing. mingyu let out a guttarial moan and you took his dick inside your mouth as far as it could go. wonwoo wasn't satisfied with your mediocre efforts, and pushed your head till you swallowed all of mingyu.

you forced your gag reflexes to relax as mingyu's head hit the back of your throat. with wonwoo's relentless speed, your head bobbed over mingyu's dick from inertia alone, not having to do a lot of work. mingyu's thighs started convulsing soon and both of you were near to your edge already. you thought if you don't let it show you were close, wonwoo wouldn't notice until you're actually cumming and he wouldn't be able to edge you a second time.

it was risky, but you really wanted to cum already.

unfortunately for you, mingyu was too obedient to his boyfriend to cum down your throat without asking first.

"wonu, i'm close," he whined, making wonwoo pull your head off mingyu by your hair, making you whine loudly. you whined even louder when wonwoo exited you without giving you the release you needed.

"you are really noisy, y'know that?" wonwoo tells you teasingly. "good for you, i love hearing your sweet voice. stay in your position. mingyu come back here."

mingyu stands up on weak legs and kneels on the edge of the bed in front of your ass, his dick the perfect height to your entrance. wonwoo took a hold of his lover's dick and slowly pushed it in you again. you gasped at the unexpected intrusion. "hold her hips, baby, or she'll fall. she's so weak, you gotta help her. now, don't move yet, be patient."

mingyu stays still, painfully deep inside you. you loved the stretch from his dick. you could almost feel his tip brush against your sweet spot - if only he'd move a little and hit it with force.

you heard a whimper from mingyu, making you look back over your shoulder. your eyes widened, seeing wonwoo fingering mingyu from the back, two fingers deep already, preparing him. you realised what was about to come instantly. you turned your back and waited in anticipation, knowing that the best blow will come with the surprise of it.

you couldn't be more right because as soon as wonwoo's hips snapped against mingyu's, mingyu's snapped against yours, going balls deep. the feeling was extreme, one of a kind, and thrilly. mingyu's dick hit every right spot at every hit, making you reach cloud nine with the feeling. if not for mingyu's hands supporting your hips, you would have fallen down already with how weak your limbs felt.

the room sounded really filthy with the rhythmic double slapping of skins mixed with your moans, mingyu's whimpers and wonwoo's groans. but certainly mingyu was having the best time among you three, with his prostrate being abused by his boyfriend's dick on one end and having his dick swallowed by his best friend's pussy on the other. his eyes were rolling back and his throat ached with the loud noises it created. he was close a second time and he let his boyfriend know of it.

"cum on her pretty ass," wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a loud smack of his hand on mingyu's ass, making the latter cry. just as instructed, mingyu exited you before cumming ropes of white semen in your ass. "such a good puppy. now help her cum too. use your fingers on her clit."

mingyu's fingers found their way to your sensitive clit, rubbing in circular motions. you barely took any time before you were squirting, wetting the bed under you with a cry. you let your body fall on the bed and turn on your back so you could embrace mingyu, who fell right on top of you. wonwoo had slowed his speed a little to let his lover come down from his high at a relaxed pace without overstimulating him.

you kissed mingyu and mingyu kissed you, both finding comfort in the wet warmth of the other's mouth. the sight was oddly a turn-on for wonwoo, who soon came deep inside mingyu's ass, giving him a creampie as he exited. mingyu rolled over on the bed beside you, eyes closed shut from the tiredness.

you vaguely saw wonwoo get up and leave to the bathroom before your own eyes fell shut. you were sleepy already, it's probably past your usual bedtime. you barely registered being wiped clean with a warm and wet towel before being dressed in your pajama shorts and a loose tshirt. when your eyes opened wonwoo was doing the same to mingyu, kissing him on the top of his head after.

mingyu rolled to his side and snuggled against you sleepily, making you giggle softly while wonwoo got himself a pair of grey shorts to put on. wonwoo pouted and mumbled something under his breath before he snuggled on your other side. both the boys practically sandwiched you, with your back to wonwoo and front to mingyu.

you saw as the boyfriends shared a goodnight kiss, the sweetness dripping, making you smile for them. then mingyu looked at you with pouted lips, and you muttered a me too? before he pressed a kiss to your lips. you giggled as wonwoo picked your cheek as goodnight too.

"so, uhm, is this a thing now? we ... three?"

"it could be, if you like."

"i think i'd like it, it be great."

"this is so perfect, my cute little boyfriend and my cute little girlfriend." mingyu chuckled.

"i'm not little!" you and wonwoo whined simultaneously.

[joeshiestyslover]

moth to a flame- m. sturniolo

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: you and matt have hated each other since you were kids, you two constantly bickering and arguing. however, there has always been an underlying tension, but you and matt have always chosen to ignore it. yet, the unspoken tension begins to break when another guy takes an interest in you.

warnings: language, angst, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), fluff, cheating (don’t do this either pls), nick once again being a g

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: does the smut suck? yes probably but it’s okay 😌

“you have a date? how much did you pay him?” matt asks you, a snark evident in his tone. you roll your eyes at his comment. “guys find me very likable, thank you very much.” you retort. “oh i’m sure.” he scoffs. “can you just shut the hell up?” you snap, looking into the eyes of the boy you’ve hated since freshman year.

you met the triplets when you moved to boston in the ninth grade. you shared a class with nick, and you two quickly hit it off. he then introduced you to his two brothers, matt and chris. chris was super sweet and welcoming towards you, but matt was the complete opposite. he barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was to make some snide remark. at first, you let it slide, thinking he was just uncomfortable around new people, but the mean comments never subsided, so one day, you snapped back at him, much to his surprise. thus began the endless fighting and screaming matches between the both of you. it got so bad that nick and chris wouldn’t allow you two alone in the same room out of fear that you might kill each other. you two found ways to argue about anything, even things as stupid as what the best soda is.

although you hate matt with every fiber in your being, you still love nick and chris as if they were your own brothers, and they obviously felt the same. when their youtube channel first blew up, you were always by their side to support them. eventually, they decided they were going to move to los angeles, and they asked you to go with them. you immediately accepted because the course you wanted to study in college had great programs in los angeles.

you’re currently in the triplets’ apartment, telling them about the most recent development in your life: you got a date. “y/n, just ignore matt.” nick interrupts yours and matt’s squabble. “so, what’s his name? how did you meet him?” nick asks excitedly. “well, his name’s blake and we met at the coffee shop on campus.” you smile. matt rolls his eyes. “blake? the guy sounds like a douchebag.” “and you would know all about douchebags wouldn’t you?” you ask with a false sweetness in your voice. “what the hell is that supposed to mean? you saying i’m a douchebag?” matt narrows his eyes at you. “if the shoe fits.” you shrug. “okay can you guys not for like two seconds?” chris asks. you raise your hands up in surrender, “fine but he started it.” “sure blame me for everything.” matt says sarcastically. “fuck off.” you reply. “guys seriously, stop.” nick tells you sternly. “anyway where are you and blake going?” chris asks, trying to lessen the tension between you and matt. “we’re going to this restaurant down the street from my apartment. it’s pretty nice actually.” you tell him, smiling slightly. you then stand up and grab your car keys. “i’m gonna go get ready, and i’ll tell you guys all about it after.” “you better!” nick yells out after you as you walk out the door towards your car.

nick watches you leave, then turns to matt, “we need to talk.” matt raises an eyebrow, “okay…” he says hesitantly, setting down his phone. “what the fuck is up with you and y/n?” “what do you mean?” matt asks. “you two have been at each other’s throats for years! it’s so exhausting watching you two constantly fight over dumb shit!” nick yells at him. “what about her? why is she not included in this conversation?” he retorts. “because you started this shit! you were awful to her when you first met! this whole situation could have been avoided if you were man enough to tell her you like her!” matt’s taken aback by nick’s outburst. “tell her what?” he asks, hoping he heard his brother wrong. “come on matt, it’s obvious that you like her.” nick deadpans. “you’re kidding right? she’s disgusting, and not to mention, a total bitch. how you guys tolerate her shit, i’ll never know, but i sure as hell won’t.” matt rants. “okay matt, whatever you need to tell yourself.” chris adds, rolling his eyes. “you agree with nick? seriously?” matt turns to the youngest triplet. chris just shrugs, “i mean, yeah. i might be an idiot, but even i can tell that you like her.” matt scoffs, “fuck you guys. i’m going for a drive. i’ll be back later.” he stands up and grabs his keys. he then walks out the front door, making sure to slam it shut.

matt gets into his car and begins to drive, not knowing where to go. during his drive, thoughts of you begin to invade matt’s head. there is absolutely no way he likes you. you’re annoying, you’re stubborn, and you’re just so insufferable to be around. sure, you’re conventionally attractive, but that doesn’t mean anything, it actually pisses matt off more because he doesn’t understand how such a pretty face could have such an awful personality paired with it.

after driving for a while, an idea pops into matt’s head. matt knows you well enough to know which restaurant you would go to because it was always one of your favorites. he begins to drive that way and plots what he’s going to do once he gets there. after a few moments of contemplating, he decides to just sit a couple of tables away from you and your date, just to make you uncomfortable and on edge.

he arrives at the restaurant and walks in through the large glass doors at the front of the building. the moment he walks in, he can spot you and blake in the back. you’re laughing at something he said, and an unfamiliar feeling began to pool in the pit of matt’s stomach. his thoughts are cut off by the hostess coming up to the stand, “how many?” she asks. “umm just one, and is there any way i can get a table back there?” he points to where you’re sitting. “of course. follow me.” she smiles as she begins to walk towards the your table, matt following close behind. “here you are, sir.” the hostess sets the menu down on the table before walking away. he sits down and looks at the menu, waiting for you to notice his presence.

as you’re talking to blake, you notice a familiar head of hair out of the corner of your eye. you look over an see matt sitting diagonally across from your table. your eyes widen when your eyes meet his. what the fuck is he doing here? you try your best to ignore him, but you can see him continuously glancing at you. blake notices you looking over to your right. “are you okay, y/n? is something wrong?” he asks. your eyes snap back to his. “no i thought i saw something, but i didn’t.” blake just shrugs and continues talking. you try to listen to his words, but you can’t. your mind constantly drifts back to the brown-haired boy sitting to your right.

after a couple hours, and some very awkward glances to matt, your date finally ends. you and blake bid each other goodnight before you walk back to your car. you see matt walking to his own car and you send him with a death glare, to which he just responds with a cocky smile. you wait for him to drive out of the parking lot, and once he does, you follow him home, wanting answers as to why he thought it was a good idea to crash your date.

as he pulls into his garage, you park on the street. you turn your engine off and get out of the car, storming through the front door, where you see matt standing in the kitchen. you walk over to him and slam your purse down on the counter.

“why do you feel the need to ruin every good thing that comes my way? what do you have to gain from that?” you ask matt frustratedly. “i don’t ruin every good thing. i just wanted to make sure he’s good for you.” he replies nonchalantly. “that’s not for you to decide matthew!” you yell, moving closer to him. “y/n, you just need to trust me.” his calmness is pissing you off even more. “but i don’t trust you! all you’ve done since we met is berate me and talk shit about me! how can i trust your words when i can’t even trust you?!” you begin to wave your arms frantically. “look,” he begins, “i know guys like that and i just-” “guys like what matt? guys like you?” you ask accusingly. “no. guys that will treat a girl right until they get into her pants and then leave once they get what they want.” you scoff at his words. who does he think he is? “you don’t know what you’re talking about. did he say something to make you believe he’s like that?” matt averts his gaze to the floor. “no, but i have a feeling.” you laugh, not believing the words that are leaving his mouth. “a feeling? so you just made it up.” he looks back up at you. “god, i didn’t make it up y/n! stop being so naive and open your fucking eyes!” matt begins to raise his voice. “you are such a fucking asshole! you have no right to stick your nose in my love life! just because no one wants you doesn’t mean you get project that onto me!” you yell in his face, seething with rage. matt’s face turns cold, his eyes boring into yours with a look you can’t make out. he remains silent for a few seconds. “what no snarky comment? did i hit a sore spot? it’s so pathetic that you’re so insecure that you feel the need to-” you’re cut off by a pair of lips smashing against yours. your eyes widen and you can feel yourself almost melting into the kiss before you realize who it is you’re kissing. you quickly shove him backwards, and matt stumbles a little. you look into his eyes, the both of you saying nothing. you don’t know what comes over you, but before you can think it through, you take a step forward, grab the back of his neck, and press your lips against matt’s once again. the kiss is rough, teeth and tongues clashing together. 

matt’s kisses begin to fall from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking as he goes further and further down. “matt” you moan breathlessly. “what is it baby?” he asks in a husky voice and you could cum from just the sound of his voice. “we should go to your room.” you say between small moans. you can feel him nod against the crook of your neck as he put his hand under your ass to pick you up. you immediately wrap your legs around his waist as he begins to walk towards his room. you get into his room and he sits down on the edge of his bed, so now you’re in his lap.

matt removes his head from your collarbone and he finds your lips again. you subconsciously begin to move your hips against his, a soft groan leaving his lips and you can feel yourself clench at the noise. matt’s hands slowly trail up your back and you can feel his right hand grip your hair. he gives it a quick but firm tug, pulling your head back which gives him the opportunity to attack your jawline. “matt please.” you breathe out, needing his touch. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, knowing damn well what you want. “i need you.” he looks up at you with a smirk on his face. “yeah? then show me how bad you need me.” you feel his grip on you relax slightly, so you get off his lap and drop to your knees. your eyes immediately find the large tent in his sweats. you can feel your mouth water with desire.

you grab his dick through his pants and matt lets out a light gasp. “don’t tease me baby.” you bite your lip and tug his sweatpants down to his thighs, his extremely hard dick slapping against his stomach. you wrap your hand around his base and begin to stroke him up and down. you then bring your lip to his tip, giving it a few kitten licks. matt’s hand finds your hair and forces himself down your throat. you feel your eyes begin to water as you find your rhythm. you continue to bob your head up and down and pump what you can’t fit in your mouth. “fuckkk” matt moans, his hand tightly gripping your hair. “i’m gonna cum baby.” you quicken your pace and you can feel your cunt dripping, making a mess between your thighs. matt’s groans become louder and louder as he feels himself getting closer. his dick twitches in your mouth and you still your movements, feeling his thick ropes of cum hitting the back of your throat. you swallow every drop before pulling off him, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath.

“fuck that was so good.” he praises you as he grabs your hands and leads you back onto the bed. he flips the two of you around so now he’s on top of you. “you’re such a good girl for me.” he says before he kisses you again. he bites your bottom lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. you can feel his dick sliding up and down your clothed cunt. “please fuck me matt.” you whine against his lips. “patience baby.” he demands. his hands find the waistband of your pants, yanking them down so your bottom half is only covered by your thin panties. he looks down and sees the wet patch that covers the bottom of them. “holy fuck you’re soaked. you really liked sucking me off that much, huh?” he then gets up on his knees and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach, and you can somehow feel yourself become wetter. “how bad do you want me?” he asks you cockily. “so bad matty. please fuck me.” he chuckles, “so needy.” he then lines himself up to your leaking hole, swiping his tip against your clit a few times before sliding himself inside you slowly. you let out a loud moan and he covers your mouth. “shhh baby. we don’t want nick or chris to hear how good i’m making feel do we?” you shake your head as he continues to rut his hips into yours. he removes his hand from your mouth and it soon finds its place on your throat. “fuck you’re so fucking tight. oh my god.” he throws his head back in pleasure as you moan out his name. “you’re such a little slut for me aren’t you? you like it when i fuck you like this?” he smirks down at you, admiring the way your jaw was slack and your eyes rolled back. he tightens his grip around your neck as a warning, “answer me or i’ll stop.” “fuck yes matt i love it.” you moan out. he takes his hand off your neck and trails it down to your clit. he begins to rub it in small, tight circles and you can feel the coil in your stomach begin to form.

“fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum soon.” he picks up his pace, going harder as his hand rubs your clit faster. you can feel yourself begin to clench around him, matt starting to let out broken moans at the sensation. “you gonna cum baby?” you nod, on the verge of cumming around him. “give it to me baby. cum on my dick.” he urges. at his words, you let go, letting out a loud and long moan as you release around his dick. matt’s pace begins to falter as he feels himself about to fall apart too. “where do you want it baby?” “inside me please.” you beg. he twitches inside of you and you can feel him cumming inside you, painting your swollen walls white as he lets out a groan of your name. he stills inside you for a few seconds before pulling out. he gets up from the bed and walks to his bathroom. you feel the sink run and turn off and he returns to the bed with a damp towel. he begins to clean you up a bit before tossing the towel to the side. he crawls towards you and lies down next you, pulling you into his arms.

you both lie in his bed for a few more minutes before you speak up. “this can’t happen again.” matt turns to look at you, “why not?” he questions. “i don’t want to hurt blake. he’s a good guy.” matt scoffs. “sure he is.” he says, sarcasm evident in his tone. “you don’t even know him matt.” you try to reason. “i don’t need to know the guy to know he’s an asshole. his name’s blake, and that says enough.” you roll your eyes at his childish behavior. “okay matt whatever.” you pull the covers off your body and you begin to put your clothes back on. matt grabs your arms and spins you around to face him. he looks into your eyes for a few moments before crashing his lips against yours. you want to pull away, but you can’t. the kiss becomes more and more heated as he backs you up until you’re both lying on the bed with him on top of you. “this is the last time.” you demand, knowing that’s probably a lie. “no it’s not.” he says against your lips as he begins to trail kisses down your neck.

weeks pass by, and you and matt are still hooking up. because of this, you’ve become more tolerant towards each other. you don’t necessarily like one another, but you can at least go a day without arguing. nick and chris begin to notice the change in dynamic between the both of you. they don’t ask questions because they’re just happy you all can hang out without the two of them being caught in the middle of one of your petty arguments.

much to matt’s dismay however, blake is still in the picture. you haven’t become official with him yet, but you both have gone on many more dates and even kissed a few times. of course, you felt bad for lying to blake, but what are you supposed to do? you just can’t escape matt. you’re a moth to his flame. you’ve come so close to breaking it off with matt, but each time you fail, somehow always ending up naked in his bed.

this is one of those times. you came over to the boys’ apartment to break it off with matt, but of course, you couldn’t. instead, you’re pinned against the wall of his bedroom. “matt we can’t keep doing this.” you breathe out against his lips. “doing what?” he asks, backing away and raising one eyebrow. “hating each other in public and fucking in private. i can’t do that to blake.” you try to reason with him, but matt simply rolls his eyes. “then just end things with him. i told you he isn’t good for you.” “he’s a good guy, matt.” you reply. matt takes a step closer to you, “well, if he’s such a good guy, then why are you here? why aren’t you with him?” he asks, knowing the answer. you look down and shake your head, “i don’t know. i shouldn’t be here. i should go.” you grab your purse from the counter and swing it over your shoulder, but before you can walk towards the door, matt grabs your wrist. “wait, don’t go.” you turn towards him, “why not?” there’s a few seconds of silence before matt answers your question. “i don’t want you to.” “okay.” you concede.

about a week later, you get a text from blake, asking you to go over to his apartment. you get into your car and drive to his place. you get out and walk up to his door, knocking twice. he open the door with a smile on his face, and it fills you with guilt. he invites you in and sits you down on his couch. “so i invited you here because i wanted to ask you something.” he begins. you nod, nervous for what he’s about to say. “i wanted to know if you would be my girlfriend.” he asks hopefully. you sigh softly and look down. you can’t hold it in any longer. you can’t keep lying to the poor guy. “look, you’re an amazing guy, don’t get me wrong, but i can’t” you tell him. his smile drops instantly. “oh. can i ask why. i thought we were doing good.” “i’m just not ready to be in a serious relationship. i thought i was, but now i know i’m not.” it’s not totally a lie. you’re not ready for a relationship with someone that isn’t matt. “okay i understand.” he says sadly. “i think i should leave. i’m so sorry blake, but i know you’ll find someone as great as you are.” you smile to try and lift the mood. he just nods while staring at the ground. you stand up from his couch and walk out the door, wracked with guilt.

you get in your car and drive to the triplets’ apartment, needing to talk to matt. you have to tell him how you feel. you arrive at their apartment and place your car in park. you walk up to the door and knock. you wait for a few seconds before the door opens, revealing matt. “hi.” you break the silence. “what’s up? you need something?” he inquires. “i actually need to talk to you.” you can feel butterflies in your stomach as you rock back and forth on your feet. “ummm okay come in.” he motions for you to enter the apartment. you walk inside and matt closes the door behind you. you both stand in the living room and you set your keys and phone down on their counter. he stands there, waiting for you to speak.

“i broke up with him” you break the silence. “what? why?” matt questions, his head immediately perking up. “you were right. he wasn’t good for me.” he scoffs, “well no shit. what does that have to do with me?” “i also broke up with him because i realized something.” are you really about to do this? are you really about to confess your feelings to the boy you’ve hated for years? matt gives you a look, telling you to go on. “i know we’ve always hated each other, but since we started sleeping together, i realized that i don’t want blake. i want you, and not just in a sexual way. i want to actually be with you.” you take a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding, waiting anxiously for his response, but he says nothing. “matt? please say something.” matt looks down at the floor and shakes his head slightly. “i can’t, y/n.” he says softly. “can’t what?” you’re confused now. what the hell does that mean? “i can’t be with you.” your heart drops. “why not?” you ask. “i… i just can’t.” you’re start to become irritated at his words. “what can’t you do matt?!” “i can’t give you what you want. you want to date and do couple-y stuff and i can’t do that.” his gaze remains on the floor. “so i’m good enough to fuck, but not good enough to date?” you ask condescendingly. “that’s not what i’m saying, i just-” “you just what matt?! what is so awful about being in a relationship?!” you begin to yell. “i don’t do relationships! the fact that you’re whining and screaming about it is the reason i don’t! you’re being fucking dramatic and i’m sick of it! we’re not dating and we’re never going to so just accept it and stop being so fucking clingy!” he yells back at you. your jaw drops to the floor at his words. “fuck you matthew. don’t text me again.” you walk towards the front door, making sure to bump his shoulder on the way out. you open the door and slam it shut, shaking the walls of the apartment.

hearing the commotion, chris and nick walk downstairs into the living room. “what the hell happened?” nick asks. “nothing happened. she’s just being a bitch as usual.” matt replies, rubbing his temples. “what did you say to her?” nick sighs, knowing you’d never react that way unless matt said something really fucked up. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” nick scoffs. “well too bad. if i just lost my best friend because of you then we’re gonna talk about it.” nick and chris drag matt over to the couch and sit down. matt sighs and begins to explain everything that happened between the two of you. “why would you say something like that to her?” chris asks him, disappointed in his older brother. “i told you, i’m not a relationship guy.” nick looks at him with a look of worry. “but do you like her?” matt looks at him and nods. “then tell her that you dumb fuck! you just broke her heart for no reason!” he yells in matt’s face. “look, i can’t do this right now. i’m going to bed.” matt sighs softly as he walks out of the room.

as soon as matt gets into his room, he shuts the door, lying down in his bed. his mind is racing with thoughts of you. nick was right. he should have told you that he wanted to date you too, but he was too much of a pussy to actually say it, so he hurt you instead. matt knows you’re probably still mad at him and would slam the door in his face if he went over to your house now, so he decides to wait a day or two. after contemplating it, matt walks over to nick’s room and opens the door, knowing he needs help getting you back. “how do i win her back nick?” he sits down on his brother’s bed. “look, i don’t know if she would take you back for sure, but what you need to do is give her a heartfelt apology and tell her how you feel. that’s your best bet.” matt nods, taking in everything he says. “and flowers. get her some flowers.” “i’ll go over there tomorrow.” matt states. “good because if i lose my best friend, i’ll actually kill you.” nick says with a glare.

the next day, matt woke up ready to prove to you that he wants to be your boyfriend. however, the anxiety was pooling in his stomach. what if you didn’t want him? what if you went back to blake? he tried to push those thoughts out of his mind, but they still lingered.

once he gathered the courage, he got up out of bed, throwing on a sweater and some jeans. he looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair until it looks presentable enough. matt throws on his shoes and grabbing his keys. he begins to walk towards the front door when he passes by nick on the couch. “good luck matt.” nick tells him. matt just nods and walks out the door towards his minivan.

on the way to your house, he stops by a flower stand and gets you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, hoping that it’s enough for you to forgive him. as he speeds toward your house, matt’s mind is going a million miles a minute. he’s continuously going over what he’s going to say to you in his head. his thoughts are cut off by him arriving at your apartment. matt looks at himself in the mirror once more before grabbing the flowers and stepping out of the car.

matt walked up to your front door and took a deep breath before knocking. he waited a few seconds then the door swung open, revealing you. your hair looks disheveled and your eyes puffy. “what are you doing here?” you cross your arms at the boy. “i’m sorry y/n. i’m so sorry.” he holds out the flowers for you to take. you grab them hesitantly and turn around to put them in a vase. matt follows you inside towards your kitchen. “so are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here or can you leave now?” you ask, a harsh tone in your voice. matt sighs, “you were right. i’m an asshole. i never should have said those things to you. i was just so scared.” you tilt your head to the side. “scared? of what?” “what i feel for you, what i’ve felt for you since i met you, it’s unlike anything i’ve felt before. i’ve been in love with you for years, and i was too fucking stupid to tell you. i’m sorry for everything i’ve done to you over the years. you didn’t deserve any of it.” you can see matt’s eyes start to become glossy as you step towards him. “what changed all of a sudden? last night you were dead set on not being with me, but now you do? that doesn’t make any sense matt.” you tell him, still skeptical. “nick and chris laid into me last night. they made me realize that i hurt you for no reason and that i was being selfish. i told you i didn’t want to be with you, but it was a lie. being with you is all i’ve ever wanted and when it was right in front of me i panicked. i know that i probably fucked everything up, but please, if there’s any part of you that can forgive me, please give me one more chance. let me prove to you that i can be the man you deserve.” you take a deep breath, tears beginning to invade your waterline. you want to tell him off so bad. you want to tell him that you would never take him back, but you can’t. before you can overthink it, you take a few steps towards matt and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. “do you really mean it?” you ask him softly. “i mean it baby. i promise i’ll never hurt you again.” he pulls away and looks down at you with a small smile on his face. you reciprocate the smile as he begins to lean down. your lips brush against each other before he presses his lips against yours. the kiss isn’t like any other kiss you’ve shared before; it’s soft and sweet instead of hard and rough. you both break away and rest your forehead on his. “you’re so beautiful, y’know that?” you feel your face heat up and a smile forming on your face. “shut up.” you tell him before reaching up and kissing him once more.

[romanoffsbish]

My Tummy Hurts

WandaNat x Reader

Warnings: Injured R / Hospital

It was an easy mission, so why were you here? | WC: 2,245

"Hey guys," you greeted your lovers with a smile, or so you thought, but all they got was an odd grimace.

"Detka?" You truly smiled then, but no communal joy followed as you slurred and pointed, "that's me."

"What the fuck happened to Y/N?" Natasha turned to accuse the men stood behind you, still on the quinjet.

——

The men immediately flew into a panic, all saying the same thing—you were fine, albeit worded differently. Natasha was seconds away from wringing their necks but her focus shifted back to you, who was now pouting and gripping at your burning stomach. "Wands?"

Wanda smiled at you, "What's the matter honey?"

"My tummy hurts," you uncharacteristically whined, laughter normally would've bellowed from behind you, Tony never one to miss a chance to tease someone, but then you swayed into Natasha's prepared arms and Wanda was quick to levitate you three to the medbay.

—

"Appendicitis?!" You exasperated for the third time, "are you fucking kidding me?!" Wanda shook her head, eyes empathetic as she reached for your hand, in the meanwhile Natasha chuckled over a spoonful of your lime jello—traitor that she apparently was. "Get out."

This caught the Russian's attention, her eyes widened at the malice in your tone and she was scared shitless to have to leave your side. You didn't mean it, as you wanted them close, but she didn't need to know that.

Natasha plopped the half finished jello down and moved her chair even closer, her hand reached for your free one and her heart settled when you let her grab it. "I—," she started but you just shook your head and smiled softly, "just don't laugh at me again, capeesh?"

"Now," you moved right on, the disdain back in your tone, "I just got back from space after karate chopping a pile of goop," you stole your hands back and gave your lovers a show of what took place before. Natasha trying her damndest to keep her laughter in, "Fucking sick as shit but now I'm taken out by a useless organ?"

"Mhm," Wanda hummed in amusement, "Bruce ran some tests and thinks that the creature you 'karate chopped' released a toxin into your body that caused the upset in your stomach and ruined your day home."

"Home," you repeated, voice soft as you reached for both of their hands again, squeezing to really get across to your lovers the sentiment of how great the drugs were. Not that you weren't a softie, because you were indeed the softest of the three, just never this publicly.

Natasha and Wanda shared a bit of eye contact before the witch was gone, you pouted at her absence but it was short lived when the assassin pecked your lips. "She's going to get the doctor malyshka, get the all clear so we can take you upstairs." You grinned.

"Yeah," she chuckled, "we knew you'd love that."

—

When you came to next, not even remembering falling asleep again, you immediately recognized the room. It was just as you left it all those years back, just with a few new boxes of clutter Wanda held onto and stored in here, and you were also lying in a more sterile bed.

Just as you tried to sit up you felt a hand on your chest keeping you down. "Wait, I'll sit you up Agent Y/L/N."

A frown naturally overtook your face at the unfamiliar sight of a blonde woman in a white coat, but before you  could even consider taking her up on an identity the door flew open and your girlfriends ushered her out.

"Wa—," before you could finish speaking a spoonful of bone broth was shoved into your mouth. Judging by the sunsetting in the sky you knew it was already the following day, which was admittedly slightly alarming. Yet your urge to inquire the time flew out the window as the bite of food kicked the hunger in your body up.

After scarfing down the bowl you begged for more, but not of the soup. “Y/N no, I am not feeding you ice—.”

“I am dying,” you dramatized, “I need a pint to live!”

Wanda was about to admonish you for all the begging and humoring of death, but then she caught sight of your pouting lip and wet eyes, so of course she melted. Natasha rolled her eyes at your antics before she knowingly slipped out of the room to collect the first outlandish request of many, she could only assume.

When she returned the atmosphere was calmer, you were telling Wanda, who was sat at your bedside with a full smile, about the moments leading up to the fight.

“Tony, resident idiot that he is, caused the power in the entire city to go out for the sake of his suit mods, which made our attempts until then to stay hidden wasted.”

“Sounds about par for the course,” Nat teased her way into the conversation and you looked to her with a brighter smile at the sight of the ben and jerry pint.

The women took turns replying to you and spooning the ice cream into your mouth. You talked with a full mouth but Wanda let it go each time, a bit too relieved to still have you here for her to deem it worth scolding.

It wasn’t until the witch could see, in your eyes, just how tired you were that she decided to stop letting it all slide. It was sweet the way you tried to stay awake just to talk to them, but once the woman set the empty container down and wiped your lips clean she was inconspicuously putting you to sleep. Her words of reply faded into hums as she mindlessly traced her fingers over the exposed skin of your arms until your words aimed at Natasha faded out and became a snore.

—

The pair had left you sleeping in your hospice bed about an hour ago, it was hard to convince the Dr on duty to let you leave the ward after surgery but Tony's check book came out and now the woman is settled in a room across the hall for the night. Unnervingly.

The woman watched you sleep for about ten minutes after having administered your medicine and feeding you a pint of ice cream, much to your delight, Wanda's dismay and Natasha's envy. They'd made sure Friday locked you in before they headed down to eat dinner.

The natural redhead huffed, again, as she pushed the mushy green beans around her plate, ignoring the red tinted look of agitation Wanda sent her way. "Bros'."

(knock it off / quit)

"Nyet," the redhead grumbled over a bite of potatoes.

"She needs her rest," Wanda decidedly empathized.

"I missed her," the redhead sighed, "we were going to finish the bannister garden and cuddle under stars."

The witch felt a similar ache, that mission you were on took an entire month, you were fine too, but no longer. Wanda moved her chair closer, leaning her head on the redheads shoulder, dainty fingers wrapped around a muscular bicep, both woman shivered. For a moment the silence was peaceful, but then the witch sighed, "She was going to help me plant in said garden."

Natasha took a big bite of her steak and got lost in thought about how you somehow perfectly fit into their dynamic. You build things and spar with her, then go garden while discussing your latest read with Wanda. Like Nat, you can't cook but like Wanda you can bake.

"Our multifaceted, badass girlfriend," Wanda coo'd seconds later and Natasha snorted, "taken out by an appendix." Wanda shoved her shoulder but chuckled alongside her as they both silently regarded you with a different fondness. Natasha loved your goofy side.

The first time she'd met you was the worst day of her free life, Wanda was off on a dangerous mission and communications had been lost in the worst of it. You were her only hope as you worked tirelessly to get her back online. Her hands were shaking against her will, so she had to guide you, shields top agent, instead.

They called you her shadow, it was rumored around the base that you studied her fighting and mirrored her in not only strength but intellect. Unfortunately for you that meant being woken up only hours after returning from your own tumultuous mission. To meet your idol and crush while drooling into your pillow wasn't exactly pleasant, nor ideal when you're doing it to reconnect her with her girlfriend, it hurt.

Yet you persevered on through the awkward moments of silence and smiled when the comms cracked to life.

"Agent Romanoff, the comms are—."

"Natasha?" Wanda coughed and the redhead laughed emotionally, you were alarmed to see the Black Widow cry but it was endearing above all else. "Detka, I am so happy to hear your voice—fuck, I-I love you Wanda Maximoff, moya krasivaya detka."

Judging by the gasp on the other end you realized you were trapped in an intimate moment with them. It was beautiful and unfairly gut wrenching all at once. Soon enough it was Wanda's turn to cry out, "I love you too Natasha Romanoff; more than anything."

It was sweet, intimate, and then you sneezed. Glaring green eyes found yours and you could only shrug. "You kidnapped me from my bed, brought me to a room layered thickly in dust and didn't consider this."

"Natasha, what's going on?" The redhead smirked at you and whispered, "Wanda, meet Y/N, my stalker."

Your eyes widened at the lightweight true call out but kept your cool all the same. "You kidnapped me."

"You're free to go agent," she softly called out, it was a bit of a shock to see her this way when her reputation held a different tone. Just as you went to walk by she grabbed your arm, grip soft as she squeezed. Your attention shifted up and she smiled. "Thank you."

"Anytime," you shrugged it off nonchalantly but she knew you meant it sincerely. Just as you were almost out the door you turned and teased. "Thank me with an invitation to the wedding. I've experienced a Wanda party in full effect; I'll have the salmon."

Wanda appreciated your softer side the most.

One time, just before they asked you to be theirs, when you thought no one was watching, you had an entire conversation with their cat, Liho. Scratching his chin, feeling the purr of his gratitude on your fingertips as you animatedly discussed your day aloud with him.

"Natty and Wands are so considerate," you sighed dreamily, "and sweet—I woke up to breakfast and lunch made for me as if they weren't really busy."

You paused, hand reaching out to scoop the teetering feline up so he could sleep as you spoke a bit softer, "Then they both gave me a hug in greeting and I nearly couldn't breathe because of just how stunning they both are, no makeup and in their matching pjs."

The way you spoke made Wanda smile, her heart nearly leapt from her chest at your pure adoration.

An adorable groan fell from your lips before you shamelessly concluded, "you're the luckiest kitty on earth, with the unobtainable milfs of my dreams."

Wanda walked away with a pep in her step as she went to seek Natasha out with the good news. When the elevator dinged you released a breath shortly after, hoping now that they'd make a move as you pet their cat that would soon adopt you as his favorite.

Truth be told, everyone in the room favorited you.

—

A smile took over your face as you heard your lovers laughing through the vents of your old room back from when you were single but shared a floor with them. It was endearing, hearing the warmth and deepness of their well established connection still burning bright.

It took you awhile to feel welcome in their dynamic, even with the invitation; what really helped you along the way was the sneaky moments like these. Where they thought they were quietly simping over you but you caught the whispered words and sweetest giggles.

Hearing it then helped you to regard them as safe, because they were talking out their complex feelings. How they felt about the other having these feelings, neither was offended by the other and it shocked you. Their flattery was not lost on you with their willingness to even risk the beautiful thing they already had going.

Then to hear it now, and have it solidified that even in moments of upset they'd find a way back to that same peace within seconds—they're safe, and you are loved.

Something you knew well, and felt as they gave up on sleeping without you that night—against that doctors orders of course; when you swiftly looked up from your book the women were stood at the door with sheepish smiles. None of you spoke, all very much aware of the state of codependence that exists within your dynamic.

Natasha yawned dramatically and Wanda huffed before she snapped her fingers. Soon two cots were beside your bed once the red mist had cleared, all wires adjusted accordingly before they laid down, took your book and covered up, then slid a hand each into yours.

"Goodnight," you yawned, "I love and missed you too."

[dcxdpdabbles]

I’ve been rereading you Royal Consort au and haven’t stopped thinking about it. I just know social media during that entire au was fucking insane

Dash Baxter opened his phone one school morning in his senior year after oversleeping for an hour—he may have worked out a little too hard, or he really did have a cold, like his mother claims—and was overwhelmed with messages from his friends.

They all say the same thing.

Have you seen this!?

Is it true?!

I can't believe this is happening!

Will we go to jail? I can't go to jail!

He scrolls through them with heavy confusion until, eventually, he clicks on the link Kwan sent him since the mention of jail seemed like a higher level of importance than whatever new gossip was going about.

Someone was likely pregnant. That was always what Pauline gossip the most about.

His best friend tended to catastrophize, so he figured it was better to help him calm down first.

The link takes him to a news clip showing a crowd of people surrounding a very familiar house. It wasn't the first time the Fentons had been on the news, but they were usually covered by local stations, and it was generally due to the damage the inventors had caused.

Dash knew they were only talked about when things were slow and a fluff story needed to be thrown in. Oh, back in freshman year, when ghosts first appeared, the Fentons were much more important, but now ghosts are a part of everyday life, and sometimes Dash forgot other cities didn't have the same issue.

Nothing the Fentons did was noteworthy, especially to have the Lois Lane covering their story. Yet, here in the palm of his hands, on the morning of a regular school day, he watched as Lois Lane did just that.

"Reporting live from Amity Park outside the residence of the Royal Consort to the Infinite Realms, I'm Lois Lane. Only a few minutes ago, the Justice League members- Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman- had entered the building hoping to speak to the Consort on a diplomatic mission. The tension between humans and the Realms has been at an all-time high since the Anti-Ecto Acts were passed. Although they were overturned in the last United Nations session, there has still been no comment from King Phantom and no guarantee that a war is not on the horizon." The woman says, holding her mic close to her face while the cameraman pans over the crowd of people outside of Fenton Works.

Dash feels like someone dumped iced water on him and then slapped him with a rubber fish. He is scared, confused, and a little offended. Still, the video continues as Ms. Lane explains the Realms, the political backlash the USA put the rest of the world in, and a brief overview of the humans' chances of winning if a war did break out (not high).

She then admits that their team had gotten a tip, claiming that the Consort has been married to King Phantom for the last three years, and despite not publicly announcing his title, he had all the power of his status.

He.

There were only two "he"s in the Fenton household and Dash knew for a fact Mr. Fenton would never cheat on his wife. Which left only one.

Oh gods.

As Ms.Lane speaks, the door to the house opens behind her, and the three high heroes of Earth outstep.

Along with Danny Fenton, who is squished between Wonder Woman and Superman with a flabbergasted expression, the crowd goes wild as Ms. Lane loudly shouts, "The Royal Consort, Daniel Fenton, husband to King Phantom, is being escorted by some of the most important members of the Justice League to a secondary location for peace negotiations. There is hope for humanity yet."

The clip ends with a close-up of Fenton's wide-eyed stare, which shows him looking terrified—the same expression he used whenever Dash cornered him to vent some of his frustrations.

Dash is left sitting in utter silence and rapidly growing horror. He had been mocking a royal, physically harming a royal, and, worst of all, he had been attacking Danny Phantom's husband, the same being who had been his personal hero for the last three years.

"I'm going to jail." He whispers "I'm so going to jail. Or I'm going to be executed. That happens to people who almost start wars right? Oh, gods."

The rest of the A-listers are panicking all over the city but not nearly as Dash Baxter, who was wondering how much time Fenton would give him for a head start.

It didn't help that Wes messaged Everyone on the basketball team with a gif of a dancing cat wearing sunglasses and the words "I TOLD YOU" in bright, bold colors.

He had repeatedly told them to leave Fenton alone. If they didn't, Phantom would retaliate, but no one had taken his word for it since the boy had originally claimed Phantom and Fenton were the same person.

Dash put his phone down and stared at the wall of his room. He liked that wall. It was covered in posters, pictures of his friends, memories of his best games, and now, with the floating shelves, his teddy bear collections.

He would likely never see it again.

"Oh gods"

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

-

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[ramhaiba]

𝖮𝗇𝖾 𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗋 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖸𝗎𝗎𝗍𝖺 𝖷 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

Masterlist

contains- modern au, kidnapping, manhandling, intense bullying, cyber stalking. dubcon, oral (f receiving), thigh fucking, unprotected sex

One year. It’s been one year since you were attacked from behind. You still remember every tiny detail of that event, you were struggling to find your stupid car keys in your purse, cursing under your breath. There was something eerie about being in an empty parking lot so late at night- but you were desperate for groceries. So there you stood, struggling to find your keys while your grocery bags rested next to your feet. 

You don’t know why you couldn’t hear him, it was like he was a ghost. It was all sudden, the feeling of his stern chest on your back, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other holding a black cloth over your mouth. You remember trying to fight him off of you but each second of inhaling the chloroform-infused rag made your eyelids grow heavy. 

When you woke up, your heart felt like it was about to run out of your chest as you noticed you weren’t in your room, realizing that your last memory wasn’t a simple dream. 

The room was unfamiliar, you were lying on a queen-sized mattress, the white walls were decorated with two small portraits of flowers, and the hardwood floor looked spotless as if someone had just finished polishing it. The room itself looked normal except for the fact there wasn’t a single window, the only source of light came from a bulb hung on the ceiling- in addition to the security camera tucked in the corner. 

Your first instinct was to run to the door, only to find it was locked. Then you banged your fist against it, cursing at anyone who was behind the door. 

That’s when you heard his voice for the first time, soft- slightly comforting as well. 

“Take ten steps back from the door,” he uttered, sounding more like a suggestion than a command. 

“What the fuck is this, let me out” you shouted back. “Ten steps away from the door” he repeated, tone with a hint of annoyance. “Where even am I? Asshole, if you don’t let me go right now I’ll-”

“I said ten fucking steps away from the door, Y/n” he shouted, his voice booming, banging his fist on the other side of the door, causing you to flinch. You didn’t dare to utter another word like your lips were stuck together by glue, slowly retreating a good distance away from the entrance.

You heard the voice sigh from behind the door before unlocking it.

He walked, dark hair swooped to the side, a light grey baggy sweatshirt paired with black trousers. The only thing odd about his appearance was a sliver argyle patterned masquerade mask wrapped around the top half of his face, highlighting his dark tired eyes. 

You don’t need to see his entire face to know you’ve never met him before. “H-how do you know my name?" You questioned, voice stuttering with anxiety, taking a step back the second he took a step closer.  

He gave you a disappointed look, his eyes narrowed through the mask, “because we know each other. Y/n” he replied. 

“What do you mean 'we know each other?' I don’t even know your name, you sick fuck” you remarked, clenching your fist. “Pancakes? Do you like pancakes? “ he asked, his voice calm and unbothered as if you hadn’t just cursed him out. 

“What? Why the hell are you asking me if I want pancakes” you scoffed. “For breakfast, of course” he beamed, lips curled in a sweet subtle smile. 

“I- I don’t want pancakes, I want to leave” you replied, voice stern. “Try to get some rest, you hit your head pretty hard before you got here” he suggested, as he began to retreat to the door. 

You looked at him in disbelief as his silhouette left the room. 

The next morning- or what you assume was the next morning, the ringing of a bell woke you, as your vision slowly focused on your surroundings, you noticed him sitting on your bed, holding a tray of breakfast assortments, head tilted as he smiled.

“I hope you slept well. I made you breakfast- I’m not the best chef, so don’t get too excited” he laughed embarrassed, leaning over to lay the tray on your lap.

You looked at the food, fresh pancakes drizzled with syrup, a glass of iced orange juice, and toasted bread on the side. Then you looked back at him, his innocent happy appearance pissed you off- it was like he wasn’t unaware of how morally wrong his mistakes were.  “I don’t want your fucking food- I want to leave” you shouted, trying to tackle him with the butter knife from the tray, the spread of food falling over as you pushed him to the ground, knees straddling his chest.

In an instance, his hands are on your waist, flipping you over as if it didn't take any effort difficulty, pinning your hand above your head, making you drop the butter knife, strands of dark hair dangling off his forehead. 

“If you ever do that again” he uttered, putting crushing pressure around your wrist as he squeezed them, he leaned over, his breath on your neck as he tilted his head, 

“I will fucking break your arm.”

That’s when you realize the man in front of you isn’t just your abductor - he’s a sociopath.

The first month of your new ‘lifestyle’ was the hardest, if he wasn’t keeping you company, you’d shout for help, praying for someone would hear you. But you’re pretty sure he was watching you on his phone, laughing to himself. 

He was interesting in a way in which he cared about you as if you were his pet, weighing you weekly, giving you vitamins to replace your need for sunlight, checking your temperature, and even trimming your hair. But not once for the entire year you’ve been with him has he ever taken that annoying sliver mask off. 

You wondered what would be under the mask, a scar or a burn? Maybe a really bad tattoo. 

There was a knock on the door, the knock meant that you had to step away from the door- exactly ten steps. As you watched the door slowly open, both of his hands held a silver platter on top of it was a circular handmade chocolate frosted cake with one yellow lit candle. 

He shut the door with his foot and used his elbow to hit the light switch behind him, the fire from the candle now more noticeable. “Sit down ” he advised, voice laced with excitement.

“What’s with the cake?” you asked, crisscrossing your legs as you sat on the softness of your mattress. “It’s a special day” he replied, sitting across from you as he placed the cake in the middle. “And why is that?” you questioned.

"It’s your birthday” he whispered as if it were a childish secret.

“My birthday?” you repeated. 

“Yeah, it's your special day. Go on, make a wish” he added, a sweet smile appearing on his lips, laying his hand on top of yours. 

That’s when your anxieties resurfaced, the girl who was scratching and biting her abductor every chance she got is coming back into the light. Fuck- how have you been here for a year? Why the hell are you still here- you need out because you can’t take it anymore.

“Y/n? Aren’t you going to blow out your candles��� his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, noticing that you pulled your hand away from his.

“I-I can’t” you stuttered, beginning to hyperventilate, palms becoming sweaty. “What? What’s wrong” he asked, voice laced with panic.

“No- this is wrong, I shouldn’t be here. I-”

“Y/n. You’re having a panic attack, just try to calm down” he advised, leaning over to comfort your face, only to be pushed away by his chest. “Get the fuck away from me ” you shouted. He’s tripping off the bed, letting out a hiss of pain, rubbing his forehead as he notices something.

He’s touching his skin.

He looked down at his chest, there his mask lay, the ribbons that were once tied together now unraveled due to the fall. Then he’s looking back at you, with a panicked expression.

It’s all hitting you back now.

You can’t forget that face, soft pale skin, eyebags lying under his dark blue eyes. 

“Y-Yuuta?” You uttered

You finally realized his identity because you knew him from freshmen year of high school- but you were nothing more than an acquittance to you. The mere thought of Yuuta’s existence was a far memory in the back of your head, so no wonder why you couldn’t recognize him until his mask was gone. Yuuta was just a guy from high school you felt bad for because he was bullied relentlessly. He looked different now, his classic bangs pushed to the side and he was never this physically strong. 

“Don’t look at me” he mumbled, panicked hands trying to tie his mask back on.

“W-why are you doing this to me? I-I never did anything awful to you” you questioned, feeling your eyes swell up with tears.

“No- No, This isn’t a punishment, Y/n. I-I’m in love with you. I always have been in love with you” Yuuta corrected, disregarding the attempt to put his mask back on, as he got on his knees to look up at you from the bed, a pitiful expression on his face. 

“Then what the fuck is this Yuuta? Y-you’re in love with me? I didn’t even talk to you in high school. Even if I did, there is no way in hell, I’d ever date a freakshow like you” you remarked.

It’s like the word ‘freakshow’ triggered something in Yuuta’s mind, bringing back the memories of him being constantly berated by his classmates. As you watched him stand up, his facial demeanor became cold, and his eyes that once looked at you with admiration became dull.

“Y-Yuuta?” you stuttered, slowly backing away on the bed until your back reached the wall.

Then you feel Yuuta’s hand wrap around your ankles, dragging you back towards him, your back pressed against the bed, legs dangling off of the edge. He leaned over, his chest hovering over yours, his face so close to the side of your neck that you could feel his breath against your skin.

“G-get off of me” you panicked, laying your palms flat on Yuuta’s chest as you tried to push him off, only for him to quickly pin them above your head, only needing to use one hand to detain both of yours, his grip wrapping around your wrists.

“I love you. From the second I saw you, I knew you were different- different from all the other assholes who would want to make my life a personal hell” Yuuta explained, his free hand going to caress your cheek, fingertips tracing the soft skin.

“I’m not though, I just stood by and watched it happen. I’m not special” you argued, tears swelling in your eyes. Yuuta clicked his tongue, adverting his eyes from your eyes, eyebrows narrowed as he recollected his thoughts.

“March seventh, my birthday. Some guys from our high school decided to beat the shit out of me as a sick present. They threw me in an alleyway like I was trash, and took my umbrella too so I was getting drenched by the rain. God- they punched me up so hard that I actually thought I was going to die, my eyesight was going blurry and I was freezing from the rain. I couldn’t get up or anything, so I just lay in that alleyway to accept death. But then an angel came to me and she held me tightly in her arms in the shivering rain as we waited for the ambulance she called to arrive. 

Don’t you get it, Y/n? You’re my angel.” Yuuta recited, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

You looked at him in disbelief, you can’t even argue because he’s right. You did decide to help him. It’s one thing to look the other way when he got called horrid things- but you couldn’t let him die in that alley.

“I-I only did that because I couldn’t let you die and I thought you were too exhausted to remember it was me to help you” you stuttered out the truth.

“How could I possibly forget? Forget the only person in this fucked up world who’s ever been kind to me” Yuuta replied.

“I barely know you” you whimpered, voice trembling as his face inched closer to yours

“And you are my everything” he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours into a tender kiss.

You’re embarrassed- You’re embarrassed by how soft Yuuta’s lips are, how good they feel on yours, causing your heart to race.

You’re embarrassed about how intoxicating the feeling of his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, letting his cold fingertips roam your side.

And you’re embarrassed about how you want to stop. But you can’t.

Yuuta doesn’t realize it but he has the face of an angel but the touch of the devil. The second he’s kissing you, he has you under his control. You’re almost missing the feeling of his lips on yours as he moved to trail wet kisses on your neck, biting, sucking the exposed skin he could touch.

Then you’re tilting your head, looking at him descend between your legs, his knees touching the floor, his fingers hook under the hem of your pants, slowly sliding them off. You could feel the embarrassment burn your cheeks as you watched Yuuta’s immersed expression at the sight of your panties, the thin fabric separating your desperate cunt from his tongue.

Yuuta thinks it’s funny, he’s the one who specifically brought you those pairs of panties- of course, he was embarrassed buying women’s underwear so he only picked out ones for comfort rather than appeal. But there's just something about seeing you under him, your flustered expression while wearing the clothes he picked for you- the panties he brought for you. Fuck- it turns him on. 

His finger is gliding on your clothed slit, admiring the softness of the fabric, how your breath hitched when his fingertips pressed against your fabric above your clitoris.

He opens his mouth as if he were about to utter a word but then closes it, gulping his breath. He’s waiting- he’s waiting for you to stop him, to yell at him- to remind him that you don’t want to be here. “Yuuta. Why did- Why did you stop?” You uttered, voice hinted with shyness. He thinks he’s so stupid for not realizing it earlier but you’re sexually frustrated. This was certainly the most physical interaction you’ve gotten all year because Yuuta would mostly refrain from touching you too intimately. 

But hearing your words were the scissors that cut the thin thread holding Yuuta’s consciousness. Your panties were peeled off, legs hung over Yuuta’s shoulders as his mouth dived into your cunt, tongue dipping out of his lips, brushing over your swollen clit. 

Even the feeling of his hot breath against your needy cunt caused you to moan, you could barely contain yourself once you felt his fingers sliding into your entrance. Yuuta cursing at himself in his head if he had known how good it would be to taste you, he would have done it sooner. The pretty little noises that are slipping out of your mouth are going straight into his cock, his hips slowly grinding against the bed frame for a pathetic way of relief from the erection in his pants. 

Yuuta’s opting to switch out his fingers for his tongue, fucking you with the wet muscle, his nose nudging at your clit. 

Your hands grip the mattress as you lose yourself in pleasure, hips grinding against Yuuta’s tongue, growing needy on the feeling of him savoring your cunt. Yuuta doesn’t dare to pull away when you cum, if he could he’d spend the entire day between your legs, savoring the taste of your cunt and the sweet moans that fall out of your lips.

 It’s not until you're pushing his head away from you, does he pull back, wiping his slicked-covered chin with the back of his hand, chest heaving as his glance switches from the view of your wet pussy to your flustered expression. “ Y/n-“ Yuuta panted, getting up from his knees, giving you a better view of his hardened erection lying in his pants, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

“That was- that was a mistake. I wasn't thinking correctly” you interrupted, adverting your away from Yuuta’s aroused composure, closing your legs to hide your wet cunt.

"This is far from a mistake, Y/n. ” Yuuta mumbled, tracing his finger from your calf to your thigh, before quickly straightening both of your legs to lean on his chest,

“This is fate bringing us together. This is the truest form of love."

While holding your legs together with one hand, Yuuta slightly pulls his hips away to undo his pants before slipping his hard cock between the softness of your thigh. He’s moaning at the warm feeling of your thighs tightening around his cock, instinctively humping between your legs. You bite your tongue every time Yuuta’s cock swipes against your slit, ashamed of the sexual frustration building up in you at his refusal to properly fuck you. You're wondering if this is his way to punish you- or maybe this is his way of helping you realize how desperate you are for his touch. 

“Feels good-fuck” Yuuta stuttered, leaning his head down as he memorized the image of his cock fucking your thighs.

“Yuuta, just do it already” you uttered.

“ Do what, pretty girl?” He asked, an innocent smile on his lips, placing a sweet kiss on your ankle.  

“J-just fuck me already” You confessed, forearms going over your face to cover your shame, not wanting to look at his reaction.

“That’s all you needed to say” Yuuta replied, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on the side of your neck before sliding his cock into your aching hole, the painful stretch causing you to bite your tongue.

“All you need to do is ask, sweetheart” Yuuta huffed, abdomen tensing at the tightness of your cunt sucking in his cock. 

“And I’ll do anything for you.”

Yuuta’s cock is slipping out of you, only the red tip still prodding in your walls until he’s snapping his hip, fucking his cock back into you causing you to gasp his name, overwhelming pleasure making your brain turn into mush. He can’t help but dip his head, letting out a moan, loud and unrestrained. And all you could think was

His moans are as pretty as his face.

But fuck- his pace is brutal, he’s bending one of your knees onto your chest, hard cock hitting a deeper angle in you. 

“Y/n. Hold on to me. Want you to bite kiss, want you to bite me, want you to touch me” Yuuta panted, talking incorrectly due to his loss in pleasure, eyes half-lidded as he gazed upon your fucked out expression. His cock is bullying your cunt with harsh strokes until you finally submit, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you bit into the crook of his neck erupting a groan from him. He’s letting go of your knee, opting for his hand to creep under your shirt, groping at the softness of your breast.

Yuuta doesn’t know how many times he’s shamefully jacked off to one of your social media posts, even if they were just an innocent picture of you in a garden or with friends, everything about you drove him crazy. He can’t believe he has you like this, on the verge of tears, desperate for his cock to edge you into your blissful orgasm, your fingers gripping the back of his black shirt, the sweet sounds of you moaning in his ear while he plays with your tits.

If this is a dream, he never wants to wake up.

When you cum, you let out the prettiest noise and your walls clench so hard against Yuuta’s cock that it almost makes him spill his load inside of you.

Yuuta doesn’t wait for you to recover from your high, while you’re still trembling his hips are thrusting into your wet cunt until he feels his orgasm. He pulls out last second and spills his cum on your inner thigh, his chest heaving as he pushed back his sweaty black hair, admiring the messy sight of his load dripping down your thigh. 

Once your high was over, the shame kicked in. The shame that you allowed and even enjoyed letting the man that ruined your life touch you- to fuck you. You can’t help but curl yourself up, trying to get as small as possible, while uncontrollable tears stream out your eyes.

Then you felt Yuuta’s soothing touch as he got on the bed, laid beside you, pulling you close to his chest, his hand slipping under your shirt, feeling your warm skin as he stroked your bare back.

“You took care of me all those years ago, so let me take care of you.I love you, my angel.”

If you were actually an angel, you think Yuuta would be the dagger that cuts your wings, trapping you on earth.

Trapping you with him.

Taglist-

@nyamocka @docosahexaenoic-san 

[bigfatbimbo]

It's been 84 years whoops I live. Someone said something at you about Vox railing them and listen, listen my beloved that is not an indication of dominance for him past the first minute of fucking. He thinks he's hot shit and demands to stay on top this time like he's got something to prove (he does) but within minutes his thrusts are so sloppy and uneven because he can't keep himself under control. He's collapsed forward and clinging to you like a lifeline while his hips just keep jolting forward without his say so. All his bravado from the start has devolved into humiliated whining that it feels so good, too good, begging you to please please please keep taking him he can't stop please mommy he needs to cum in you so bad. Any attempts he makes to collect himself just lead to him whining even louder when he can't. Anyway thats my essay on subtop vox technically doing the railing while also falling apart and begging the entire time thank u for ur consideration.

-MG

18+ minors dni

MG!!! Great to have you back brother, always leaving good shit in my inbox, dear lord. I don’t think I talk about subtop Vox on this blog enough because like it’s just so… Vox.

If you’re a naturally dominate partner then he would absolutely insist on topping or domming at least, like, five+ times. And most of that time, they would have the same result. Because Vox talks a big game, but in action it’s almost embarrassing how fast he unravels.

He would be so cocky at first, talking to you in that condescending manner, “Aw, is poor y/n upset they’re not in control for once—“ que sinister snickering “—Oh doll, you’re just gonna have to get used to it.”

You know what, he’s actually doing okay the first few thrusts, that is, until he’s not. And you two are only a few minutes in too, what a shame. It’s true, maybe you weren’t humoring him as much as he’d like you to be, but his frustration is almost an afterthought when compared to how tight you feel around him, how mind numbing the pleasure was.

But that can’t be right, Vox needed to do this right. If there’s one thing he was, he was competent, right? But you don’t even have to make a comment on the situation, although you’ve absolutely noticed, for him to start having to bite back whines.

“Fuck—zzh,” He’d curse before he sinks down, only propping himself up by an elbow as his body shudders above yours.

“Do you need any help, baby?” Your comment is sweet, too sweet. He can’t tell if it was meant to condescend him or not and, frankly, given the way your allowing him to hump into you like dog, he finds himself not caring as much as he should.

Instead he just grunts, before letting out a short staticky whine, and rutting into you more before stopping short, body shivering, muttering curse words under his breath.

At that point, it would only take a “It’s okay, sweetheart. You tried!” For him to fully collapse onto you. His bravado has been completely diminished, and the worst part is even Vox knows that there was virtually no way of winning back dominance. Not after that embarrassing display.

“Bit off more than you could chew?” Well, that was clearly condescending on your part this time.

“No that’s not—zzh, I— fuck—“ He whines, clinging onto your sides as his hips jolt into you, chasing the pleasure in his dick subconsciously, “I can’t stop, fuck, mommy please— ah shzzz, cant stop!”

Even with his full body weight on you, he doesn’t slow down or soften up, instead fully using you as a lifeline while he fucks into you with growing humiliation. His battle has officially been lost, as it is most times with you. There’s no point when you can see through his facade, so he gives in with his tail between his legs.

He’d practically beg you to let him come inside you, because hasn’t he tried so hard? “Mommy, please, please, I need it inside— Can’t—“ He has trouble articulating these words between static and buffering. When you finally tell him he’s allowed, you resist praising him too much, aka: calling him a good boy because, I mean, he did fail at the one thing he promised he would do.

But you still park him on the shoulder and reassure him it was okay because, after all, he looks cuter when he’s all fucked out, anyways.

[mayajadewrites]

toxic - toji fushiguro

✦ synopsis: toji fushiguro is your ex husband/baby daddy of your children, Megumi and Isla. It's been 2 years since your divorce and things have been nothing short of toxic. toji has probably slept with most of the city, while you've had 1 boyfriend within the past 2 years that never even met the kids. one day when toji drops off the kids, he smells another man's cologne on you.

✦ content warnings: toji fushiguru x fem! reader, 18+ unprotected sex, toji is toxic af (still luv him tho), lactation kink, angst, infidelity (don't do this pls), mentions of pregnancy, reader can speak Spanish.

You hear the sound of tires rolling onto your driveway signaling that your children are home from their weekend at their fathers.

You just got back from a man's house, a man that you've been seeing for a few weeks. He's sweet, kind, and doesn't make you feel crazy.

You heard your children giggling outside of the door, ready to come in the house and play.

"Mommy!" The younger one, Isla said as you opened the front door.

"Hi my babies." You hugged both of them tightly - Megumi is 6 and Isla is 4. "Did you have fun at daddy's house?"

"We did! Daddy brought us to the pool and I can finally swim without swimmies!" Megumi smiled as he leaned into your leg.

"Ay, we didn't discuss him taking his swimmies off yet." You glared at the tall man leaning against the doorframe through your lashes. Your accent comes off a little strong when you're angry.

"He was ready." Toji shrugged. He's wearing a tight, black t-shirt and black jeans to match. He's very muscular, he could probably lift you with his pinky. His biceps looked like they were about to rip through his sleeves.

"Can daddy stay for dinner?" Isla pulled on the hem of your shirt. "I heard his tummy growling in the car."

You looked at your two beautiful children, then at Toji. "Sure."

Megumi and Isla cheered as they ran to their rooms. You walked into the kitchen to stir the sauce you were preparing for dinner.

Toji followed you into the kitchen silently, like a predator stalking their prey.

"You know where the TV is." You waved your hand without even looking at him.

"I'm looking at you, mama." Toji's mouth formed into a smirk.

"Well take a picture it'll last longer. Then leave me alone." You pressed your hand to your hip as you stirred.

"I have a lot of pictures of you already. Videos, too."

"You're disgusting." You started boiling a pot of water for the pasta. "Were the kids okay this weekend?"

"Yeah." Toji slid onto the barstool. "They're always good."

"Mm." You nod. You know they're good because of you. Toji is around as much as he can be, but he likes to sleep around with various women which can take up a lot of time.

"Isla has your eyes." Toji leaned on the kitchen island, his eyes burning a trail on your body from head to toe.

"Maybe that's because I birthed her. Have you been making sure they learn Spanish when they're at your house?"

"I don't speak Spanish. So no. That's something you do."

"We both have to do it or else they won't learn. Megumi can speak pretty well in Spanish, but Isla wants to be just like you so she hasn't been speaking it. When I talk to her in Spanish, she answers in English."

"I mean, that means she understands, right?"

You sucked your teeth. "Fuck!" You yelped as you burn your hand.

Toji ran to you, pressing his body against yours as you examine your burn. You felt his hard abs on your back - you remember how sculpted he is. Like a fucking Greek God.

"I don't need your help." You swat his hand away as he tries to grab your hand.

Toji stands still for a moment, his head leaning down toward your neck. You can feel his breath dance along your skin before he inhales deeply through his nose.

"Where were you today?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.

"None of your damn business." You take your not burnt hand and push his chest gently so he's farther away from you.

"You don't smell like the perfume you usually wear."

"Nice observation." You raised your eyebrows. "What do you want me to say?" You placed both of your hands on the counter. "I have needs, Toji. And unlike you - standards. I'm lucky if I can find one man that I can go on more than 1 date with."

"What's his name?" He walks opposite of you to the other side of the counter.

"What is this, 21 questions? He's not meeting the kids any time soon so him and his name don't concern you."

"Can he fuck that pretty little pussy better than me?" His voice was smooth like velvet.

But one thing about you - you know all of Toji's tricks. You know what makes him tick. What makes his eye twitch.

"Matter of fact, he does. He stuffs me full." You emphasize the word 'full', biting your lower lip before you say the word.

"Tsk." Toji pushed the barstool into the kitchen island and walked into the living room. You knew that would get him the hell away from you.

"That was yummy mommy! Thank you." Megumi gave you a toothy smile as you took his plate. "Can daddy start my bath?"

"He absolutely can." You catch yourself glaring at Toji as you speak. He's been suspiciously silent since your discussion in the kitchen.

Isla helped (as much as she could) clean up the kitchen as Toji helped Megumi with his bath. Then he helped with Isla and her bedtime routine. You could hear her giggling in the bathroom as he played with her.

You and Toji tucked Isla in first in her room, then Megumi in his room. They both seemed so happy to see both of their parents in the same place. Not arguing, at least in front of them, for once.

"Goodnight baby." You push Megumi's hair to the side and kiss his forehead. He looks just like Toji it's scary.

"Night mommy, night daddy." Toji kissed Megumi's cheek.

You closed his door gently and walked to what used to be your shared room with Toji. "Get home safe." You say as you start to brush your hair.

"Never said I was leaving, mama." Toji walked into your room and closed the door gently, careful not to wake the kids.

"This is my house, the kids are asleep so you have no excuse to be here." You turn to face Toji thinking he was a few feet from you.

When you turn, you almost hit yourself in the face with his chiseled chest. How is he so quiet?

"I do have an excuse to be here." Toji brought his calloused hand to your cheek, caressing it gently. "You."

"Don't touch me." You swat his hand away. "You can leave now."

"We're just getting started sweetheart." Toji peered at you through his long lashes. "Your boyfriend won't mind, will he?"

"He will mind." You take a step back from him. "I don't want to fuck the city's community dick."

"You loved this dick before, 'member baby?" Toji took a step toward you. "You used to beg me to give you another baby."

"Keyword is used to." You place your hand on his chest and push gently. "You make me crazy, Fushiguro. I don't want to feel crazy anymore."

"Mm, say my name again." Toji whispered, his eyes moving from your eyes to your chest. "You wore that lace number for me, didn't ya doll?"

You didn't answer. Instead, you turned around on your heel and walked toward your bed. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"We're just getting started baby girl." He grabbed your wrist, pulling you back into him.

"I'm seeing someone Toji, I can't." You look up into his dark blue eyes. "I like him. I really, really like him."

"Well isn't that just the sweetest thing." He dragged his finger along the side of your face, trailing to your chin. "He doesn't have to know."

You inhaled Toji's familiar scent, memories flooding of your failed marriage into your mind. You can't lie, you've thought about having sex with Toji a lot. Especially right after the divorce. The first few women he slept with after you bruised your ego, but after that you decided to be done wishing he would come back.

Done wishing he would act right.

But damn, do you miss his dick.

"Come on, baby. Let me make you feel good." Toji leaned into your space, pressing his lips against yours slowly. Your lips were like magnets when they met, refusing to take even a breath because you want to savor the moment.

You buried your hands in his straight, black hair as he lifts you up effortlessly, his hands planted on the fat of your ass.

"Damn, this thing got bigger didn't it?" Toji gave your ass cheek a squeeze as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You moaned at the new sensation in your mouth, your core already heating up.

"Bed, mmm, now." You suck on his tongue gently, saliva connecting your mouths when you pull away from each other.

Toji threw you on your back onto the bed gently, watching your tits jiggle in your lace tank top. He caged you with his sculpted arms as he kissed your skin from your neck, to your chest, your soft stomach, to the top of your sweatpants.

"I can't believe you carried my two beautiful children in there." Toji kissed your stomach, a spot you've always been insecure about. "I'm gonna give you 'nother one, mama." He growled as he pulled down your sweatpants swiftly. "No panties, hm? You wanted this to happen, didn't you?"

Your cheeks burn red and you cover your face with your hands.

"I've seen all of you, baby. No point in hiding." His large, heavy hands landed on top of yours as he moved your hands off your face.

In that moment, it felt like there was no one in the word but you and Toji. Like it was the beginning of your relationship and you were obsessed with each other.

Like it used to be.

Toji got lost in your eyes for a moment before pressing his lips to yours for a deep, affectionate kiss. It wasn't like the frenzied kiss from before.

He wanted to remember this moment.

With his ex wife.

The mother of his children.

You cradle his face in your dainty hands as you kiss him, letting your tongue slip in and out of his mouth.

"Missed you, mama." He whispered against your lips.

You didn't verbally answer, only deepening the kiss in response. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of saying you missed him too.

Even though you did.

And actions speak louder than words.

Toji knew how to take care of your body. He did for years. He starts with your mouth, then he leaves love bruises bites on your neck, making his way to your chest. Arguably his favorite part of your body.

After you had your children, your body changed a lot. You were never chiseled like Toji, you were always soft, but the kids made your tits bigger, your stomach softer, and your hips wider.

Toji's lips attached to your collarbone as he left a trail of heated kisses to your right breast, using his hand to gently pull down the delicate lacey fabric.

"These tits, my God." Toji flicked your nipple with his index finger. "I can't believe I've been without them for so long."

You moaned softly at the contact, your body seemingly remember how many times Toji has made you come. How many times he's pleasured you to the point that you couldn't walk. You arched your back towards him at his touch.

"Easy, mama. Let me savor this moment, yeah?" His eyes were locked on yours as he brought his mouth to your hard nub, his hand kneading your left breast. He sucked gently as he stared into your eyes, refusing to break eye contact.

"Fuck, Toji." You arch your back again, bringing your hand to the back of his head as he sucks on your tit.

"Remember when these were full of milk? And you let me try it?" His smirk was sinister.

You bit down on your bottom lip, thinking about when you discovered one of Toji's many kinks.

"Answer me." He let go of your nipple with a 'pop'.

"Y-yes." You nod, pulling on his hair gently.

"I'm gonna put another baby in you, and we're doing that again."

"Toji," You moan his name at the thought of him covering your insides with his juices.

"You want me to, don't ya?" Toji was at your other nipple now, giving it the same attention as the other.

You nod when he bites your nipple when you don't answer him verbally. "Don't act like I don't know how you fuck, baby." He sucked on the skin next to your nipple, leaving a purple and red bruise that will for sure be sore tomorrow.

"I need you." You whine when his lips meet yours again.

"You're missing something there." Toji teased. "You need to use your words mama."

"I need you, Daddy."

Toji flipped the both of you over so he was now laying on the bed, maneuvering himself to lean on the headboard as he pulled you on his lap. He attacked your lips with frenzied kisses as you palmed his erection that's pressing against his sweatpants.

He's so, so big. So girthy. You wondered if he would still be able to fit inside you.

"No one touches me like you do, baby girl." Toji grabbed your face with his hands as he continued to kiss you.

He used one hand to press your cheeks together, a smile forming on his face as he looks at your chubby cheeks. "You're so damn beautiful."

You slid your palm back to his hard cock, rubbing it gently on top of the fabric. You feel your core ache as you touch him - your fingers tracing along the length.

"Ride me." Toji leaned into your ear and whispered before he kissed your earlobe.

He didn't have to ask you twice.

He quickly removed his sweatpants and boxers, his large length slapping against his stomach. You moan at the sight. He's beautiful.

You throw your pajama pants to the side, your core wet and hot, waiting for his cock to fill you.

You stare at him for a moment - he's naked, on your bed, waiting for you to sit on his cock. You kissed the scar at the corner of his mouth before gently grabbing his length to align him with your needy pussy.

You never needed lube with Toji, even with how big he is. He always knew how to get you going.

He gently planed his hands on your hips and guided you down his length, both of you moaning at the contact. His size stretched you out, and inch by inch he watched his cock disappear inside of you.

Once you took all of him, you gained your rhythm. You placed your hands on his shoulders as you grind your hips against his.

"Atta girl." He slapped your ass as you moved up and down his length. "I missed you so much." He placed one of his hands on the small of your back, helping you keep up with your pace.

Toji loved when you moved your ass as you rode him, so you made sure you threw it back every time his eyes were on you.

"This pussy was made for me." He threw his head back as squelching, lewd sounds filled the room. He started pumping into you more - he's close.

"Toji," You moan loudly as his he brings his hands to your sensitive clit, rubbing circles as your body bounces on him. Your body twitches soon after. You're close.

"Come on mama, you know the rules. You come first."

Your pussy tightens around his length, his fingers still rubbing you as your mind explodes with euphoria. You ride out your orgasm, Toji thrusting into you roughly with disoriented strokes.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you as he pulls you down one last time, filling you up with his seed. It was almost leaking out of you.

Neither of you move from your position. You stare at each other, the thoughts and sounds of what just happened replaying in your heads.

"I did miss you." He whispered as he pressed his lips to yours.

"Mm." You kissed him back, afraid to get off his cock. You missed him too.

When you finally got off each other Toji suggested you shower together. The warm water mixed with the scents of your coconut body wash made it all the more sensual.

So you fucked again.

Soapy thrusts as he had to pinned to the wall, ass facing him.

"Love watching you from here." His eyes were glued on your ass bouncing against his cock. The suds from the soap slid down your skin, creating more lewd squelches.

You woke up in bed with your ex husband's strong, sculpted arms around you.

The sunlight snuck into the room through your blinds, the warmness kissing your skin. Your wearing your favorite pajama set, Toji's sweatpants hanging off of his hips, his v-line exposed.

Then you hear your door swing open.

"Mommy!" You hear Megumi's cute voice. "Wait, daddy? You slept over?"

Toji's eyes flew open. He looked at Megumi before grabbing him and pulling him in between you and Toji. Isla climbed into your bed soon after. You hugged both your children, and the father of your children.

The bed was full of giggles - Toji tickling both his babies and lifting them in the air. You haven't heard Megumi laugh like this in months.

You missed this. You missed your family.

You bring one of your hands to your stomach, your insides coated with Toji.

And you can't help but hope there's another little Fushiguro growing inside of you.

[sleepyjuice]

patience is a virtue - jj maybank

Summary: you finally get on birth control, which means you and jj finally get to raw dog it, whoop

Warnings: 18+!!!!!!!! SMUT, p in v sex (reader is on birth control but theoretically both parties are tested and clean and exclusively sleeping with each other), little bit of praise kink, cream pie, fluff? soft jj <3

wc: 2771 wtf 🫣

A/N: so I decided to start writing again and then this happened lol. I’m probably rusty and this is my first time writing for jj so I hope it’s okay and y’all enjoy!!!<3

Jj had been counting down the days until your doctor's appointment. You were finally getting on birth control, the arm implant, to be specific. You had done your research, as well as an initial consultation with your doctor to go over all of your options and decided that the ‘one and done’ route would be the best for you.

You and jj had been together for a little over a year, using condoms every time you had sex. As much as you both liked the security of you not getting pregnant, you both wanted more, you both craved more. Not only that, but you had irregular and horribly painful periods and when your doctor mentioned that being on birth control could stop your periods, that was more than enough to convince you to take that step.

The day finally came, though, and jj insisted on driving you to your appointment, ignoring your assurance that it was a quick and easy procedure.

“jj, it’s not like I’m getting put under for a major surgery or something, it’ll probably be only like ten minutes. No medicine or anything.” You told him as you buckled your seatbelt. There was no changing his mind.

jj rolled his eyes as he started up the twinkie, already having made arrangements with john b over a week ago to let him borrow the van.

“I know, baby, but this is a big moment, wanna be there for you.” He said with a grin, pulling onto the road and starting towards your doctor’s office.

“Well, I appreciate it. I honestly think you’re more excited than I am.” You giggled, glancing over at your boyfriend as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail.

“Now what makes you say that?” He teased, knowing damn well he had this appointment marked in his phone calendar and his extra ass even drew a dick and a smiley face on your little desk calendar you had.

You had arrived shortly after, and just as you predicted, the whole appointment only took about ten minutes and was pretty painless. jj waited in the car for you to be done, smiling ecstatically at you once he saw you make your way out the office doors and towards the twinkie.

“How was it? Did it hurt?” He asked as soon as you got into the car, looking at your arm that was now wrapped in a bright pink bandage.

You shook your head, leaning across the seat to softly kiss your boyfriend, his hands finding your hair first before slowly trailing down your body to rub on your thighs as he deepened the kiss. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, so you pulled away with a laugh.

“Nope, nope, don’t even think about it. This thing doesn’t start working for seven days.” You told him, smiling innocently at him as you watched his face drop. You swore all the light in his eyes left his body for a second. He was so dramatic.

You were obviously disappointed too. It would have been nice to go straight home and have what would probably be the best sex of your life right away. But then you would have to go and buy a Plan B, and then this would all be for nothing.

“Now what the fuck? How are they gonna call this shit modern medicine but that shit doesn’t start working for a week?” jj scoffed, one of his hands still resting on your thigh while his other raised to softly graze your bandage, “like, they put a whole ass stick in your arm. What’s it even doing for these seven days? Just sitting in there doing nothing? They really need to make advancements to this shit.” he rambled on, but he couldn’t help but start laughing once you did.

“You are the most dramatic person I have ever met. We just gotta wait it out. Although, with all this anticipation, hopefully you can last more than a minute.” You mumbled the last part, your gaze leaving jj’s as you buckled your seatbelt, knowing he would start huffing over your comment.

And that he did, huffing as he started the car, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s — shut the fuck up. Don’t act like this won’t be torture for you, too.” He mumbled back, backing out of the parking lot and heading towards the chateau.

It had been a long week since your appointment. You and jj had never gone this long without having sex. You could have still used a condom in the meantime, but after a conversation in bed the first night, you had both decided to wait until you could do it raw for the first time. You were struggling, to say the least, but you had more composure than jj did all week.

He wasn’t making it easy though. The way he cuddled against you in bed, his hard dick pressing into your lower back made you crave the feeling of him inside of you. You almost caved multiple times every time he touched you, you just wanted more. But he respected your agreement, even though it was just as torturous for him. Touching your skin, seeing the way the bottom of your ass cheeks stuck out of the bottom of your shorts, all he wanted to do was rip your clothes off and bury himself inside of you. But he could wait, it would be worth it.

It couldn’t have been more perfect timing. Day seven had finally come around and your beautiful and wonderful friends all happened to have plans, which meant you and jj had the chateau to yourselves. It truly felt like a gift from god.

It was late morning, the soft glow of the sun peaking through the sheer blinds of the bedroom jj had made his own had woken you from your sleep. jj was still sleeping soundly next to you, his face pressed against your neck, an arm draped firmly across your waist.

“jay,” you whispered, softly rubbing circles on the back of his neck, your face being close enough to leave soft kisses in his messy blonde hair.

“mm- oh, fuck,” jj rasped, quickly gaining consciousness as he realized it was finally morning. He was so excited to sleep last night because it meant the next day would come quicker. It was like a kid on Christmas Eve. “it’s time?” He lifted his head from your neck, rolling himself over so he was on top of you, his hands holding himself up above your head on the pillow.

“It’s time,” you giggled, reaching up to cup his cheeks, “I’m done being patient. Need you inside me.” You whispered, and at that, jj leaned down, connecting your lips. He wasn’t completely rough, but he wasn’t gentle, and god did you miss this.

Your lips didn’t part from one another as his hands moved their way down your body. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt that clad your body, yet another thing making him absolutely feral.

You disconnected to breathe, and so that he could lift your shirt above your head, discarding it on the cluttered floor. You looked up at him, now only in your panties, finding that familiar comfort that lived in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

“Fuck, missed seeing you like this, baby.” He panted, his breath hot on your skin as he lowered his mouth down to your tits, his tongue circling your sensitive nipple as you gasped, reaching up to entangle your fingers in his hair.

He soon took your whole nipple in his mouth, humming in satisfaction against the warm skin, while also lowering his body to grind his boxer clad dick against your wet center. He was achingly hard, no doubt his boxers were already stained with the precum that was eagerly leaking out of his sensitive tip.

You whimpered softly as he grazed his teeth against your nipple as he sucked sloppily, the feeling of his mouth on you making your center pulsate harder.

“jj, need you, please..” you whined, grinding your hips up against his dick, the fabric beneath the two of you was too much. You needed him.

“Okay, baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling his mouth off of your nipple with a pop, leaving the skin red and wet, “need to taste you first.” He added before scooting down further on the bed, giving himself enough room to pull his shirt over his head and discard it with yours.

He quickly repositioned himself in front of your legs, his ring clad fingers cold on your skin as he pushed your knees apart, sliding his hands up your thighs as he spread your legs. He was met with your underwear which you could feel was soaked, and you were sure it was quite the sight for him to see.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re soaked.” He hummed, palming his hands up and down your thighs until he reached the waistband of your underwear, his fingers not hesitating to pull the fabric down your legs and off of your body completely.

“There she is,” jj smiled at the sight of your pussy before him, running a finger through your wet folds, circling your entrance and sliding it back up to rub torturously slow circles against your clit. He was acting as though your pussy was his best friend who he hadn’t seen in months. Again, he was dramatic.

“Please, jay, fuck, you — you can’t torture me now, ‘s been way too long.” You whined, your eyes shutting for a moment as you clenched around nothing, his touches making your veins feel like fire. You needed something.

“M’kay, baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just missed this. Don’t like not having you for so long.” He finally gave in, lowering his head to finally take you in his mouth, his tongue flicking quickly against your clit as his wet lips closed around it, sucking the sensitive bud in his warm mouth.

You couldn’t hold back the moans that fell from your lips, the feeling of his mouth finally on you mixed with the soft breaths leaving his nose that was pressed against your pelvic bone was everything.

“That’s right, that’s good, yeah? Just what you needed?” He pulled back for only a moment to glance up at you as you nodded quickly in response before his middle finger teased your wet entrance. Without another word, he pushed his finger inside of you, bringing his mouth back on your clit at the same time as he began pumping his finger inside of your tight pussy, not missing the sweet gasp that left your parted lips.

He got a rhythm going as he always did, eventually adding his index finger, stretching your tight walls around his fingers as his mouth moved sloppily against your clit. It was a wet mess already, his chin and fingers completely soaked with your juices, the sound of your moans and his soft praises filled the room as he quickened his pace, bringing you closer to your high.

“I’m close, fuck me, I’m gonna come-“

It took only a few more pumps from jj, the way he curled his fingers perfectly, not missing a beat as your stomach tightened before contracting, your eyes squeezing shut as you moaned loudly, reaching forward again to grip tightly onto your boyfriends hair, pulling rather hard as your orgasm took over your body.

Your pussy clenched around his fingers as he pulled them out, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean as he grinned lovingly at you.

“That’s good, baby, you’re so good for me,” he cooed, leaning down once again to press a sweet kiss onto your sensitive clit, making your breath hitch as you came down from your high. “You ready for me now? Been dreaming of this since I met you.” jj studied your face for any sign of hesitation, brushing a loose strand of hair that had fallen by your eyes.

“I’m ready, please, need to feel you.” You responded rather quickly, wholeheartedly enjoying the foreplay, but this is what you had been waiting for, you were ready to feel him fully.

“I got you, I got you…” he gave a quick kiss to your lips before sitting up and removing his boxers. His cock sprung free, happily unrestricted now, his tip red and swollen, precum now leaking out down his shaft.

You watched as he gave himself a few quick pumps, lubricating himself with his precum before positioning his cock in front of your pussy, gathering your wetness onto his tip before lining himself up with your entrance.

One hand held his cock as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, the other holding your bare waist. It was immediate euphoria for the both of you. You both had no idea what utter pleasure had been beneath the thin condom you had grown so accustomed to.

jj paused once he bottomed out, his eyes meeting yours as you nodded profusely for him to keep going. He needed a second, your joke about him not lasting was now fresh on his mind, but he was determined to make this last for the both of you, and he would be damned if he didn’t give you at least one more orgasm.

“Fuck me, Y/N, holy shiiitt you feel so perfect. So perfect for me. Pussy was made for me.” He groaned, taking a deep and shaky breath before he felt like he could begin moving again.

And so he did, his thick cock pushing in and out of you as you desperately reached up to grab the back of his neck, your fingernails digging into the soft skin making his little curses and moans grow louder.

Sex had never felt this good before, no barriers at all, just jj, completely jj. Watching his eyebrows furrow in pure and utter pleasure as his lips parted was sending your stomach into a frenzy and realistically you both knew that this first time going raw wouldn’t last too much longer, but that was okay.

“Love you, love you, feels so good, just— fuck, harder, please, I’m close.” You whined, your pussy clenching around jj’s cock as he quickened his pace, his hand that was holding your waist now moving down to rub at your clit, knowing that was going to do it for you.

“C’mon, baby, let go, yeah? Come for me, fuck — love you so much, so so good..” he praised, his cock hitting your sweet spot so perfectly while his fingers worked tirelessly against your clit, and that was all it took for your orgasm to hit you at full force, showing no mercy as your back arched, your fingers digging even deeper into your boyfriend’s skin. You didn’t even know what words left your mouth as you rode out your high, but you couldn’t care less.

jj’s gaze left your eyes as he looked down at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, juices everywhere, no doubt leaving a mess on the sheets. But the sight of that alone, mixed with the euphoria of being inside of you completely raw, not to mention the way your pussy clenched repeatedly around his cock, that was it for him. He pushed in one last time, his tip hitting deep inside of you as he came, truly inside of you for the first time. Thick spurts of come shot into you as he completely lost his composure, his arms unable to hold him up any longer, collapsing against your bare chest.

“My baby, god, fuck, I love you so much, you’re… ahh, fuck.” jj moaned one last time, needing a moment to catch his breath before he could move again. What felt like forever was only a few seconds, however, and he slowly pulled his softening cock out of you, not missing the way you winced at not only the sensitivity but the loss of fullness.

Taking a breath, jj leaned over the side of the bed to grab his t-shirt, gently wiping up his mess that was now spilling out of you. He made a mental note to put a towel down next time, might save a load of laundry, and a shirt.

“You did so good, baby. I’ve never felt so good in my fucking life.” He kissed your swollen lips once he finished wiping you up, smiling tiredly at your sweet post orgasm face, cheeks pink with a small but satisfied little smile on your lips.

“Yeah, no, that was well worth the wait.”

[theaceace]

I know that canonically (show-wise, at least) St Hilarion's worked to cover up Charles' death, and nothing was ever really done about the disappearance of Edwin and the other boys, but even so, do you think the school has a reputation for being haunted??

I'm imagining Niko following various ghost-hunter groups online, especially when the agency doesn't have many cases going on, and occasionally the boys will mirror hop over to an interesting-sounding location, and they'll even get a real case as a result

So when she tells them that one of the teams is planning to investigate St Hilarion's (either it's been closed for a while or they have special permission to go during the summer holidays), Edwin and Charles steel themselves and decide to go, in case there are other ghosts there that need help ('can't imagine a worse place to be trapped for the rest of my afterlife' says Charles, who has been to literal hell. Edwin, who spent 70 years in literal hell, agrees)

So they go, with Niko and Crystal as moral/emotional support, except when they get there they realise they've fucked up and are there on the same day/night as the ghost hunters. They could come back some other time, but what if there really are ghosts here that are suffering? No one wants to take that chance, so Crystal uses her powers to convince them that she and Niko are there for work experience, or are friends of a friend, or are here to replace one of the tech guys who called in sick

Both Charles and Edwin are tense and uncomfortable returning to the place they died - Edwin had gone there after he escaped Hell because he didn't know where else to go, but they've built themselves a home now with the agency. This isn't like before, when it was the closest place to familiar he could find. Charles, meanwhile, feels colder and colder the longer they're there - his hair is wet, there are bruises flaring and spreading, and a faint rattle in his chest that would have become pneumonia if he'd lived long enough

But they need to be sure there aren't any other lost ghosts stuck here that need their help crossing over, so they keep going

(maybe, as a consequence of a door to hell being opened in the school, there are unusual happenings, maybe there's still a place where the line between earth and hell is very thin, maybe there's some fragment of a demon left behind, and they can do something about it)

Anyway, the most important thing is that Charles, either accidentally or in a fit of pique at the whole situation, knocks something over just as one of the paranormal investigators is asking for spirits to make their presence known. In fact, this happens repeatedly - the boys move things, change things around, their presence is detected somehow with the equipment. Crystal and Niko are doing their best to distract the team and ruin as much of the footage as possible, and at least once the boys do something on purpose, maybe because someone is being a creep to the girls (and yes, they both know that Crystal and Niko are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this way scares the asshole more and is also funnier), and then also to fuck with their readings

Anyway, it's coming to the end of the night, the problem has been identified, and whaddaya knows, of course it's in the attic where they both died. This is fine, why wouldn't it be fine. They get started, draw some (invisible, ghostly) runes and start working their magic when, of course, the paranormal investigators turn up, because this is thought to be the most 'active' area of the school, and the body of a schoolboy was found here in the 80s

Yeah, they try to contact 'any of the boys who disappeared in 1916' and Charles. It would be fine if they weren't so irritatingly loud, Edwin's trying to concentrate, and Charles is now shivering and dripping wet, but they managed to ignore the team right up until they start speculating that Charles was killed by one of the angry spirits from 1916

At which point, Charles - half visible, clearly enraged, looking very much like the half-drowned and frozen kid he was, like a proper ghost - tells them to fuck off already before they get hurt, they don't understand anything, and how dare they give a shit now when it's too late

Which is, of course, the exact moment Edwin finishes the spell, and causes some sort of a magical rebound that fritzes the cameras for a second, throws furniture around, and knocks them all flying. When the cameras start up again, they catch Edwin kneeling by Charles, holding his hand, and softly telling him that it's ok, it's over, they can go now. Charles sniffs and smiles and knocks their foreheads together and says yeah, let's get out of here, and together they fade from view

The investigators think this means gay love can pierce the veil of death and save the day that now that the truth of their story is known the ghosts have moved on, and it's all thanks to them! How beautiful, how wonderful, how affirming! Perhaps one of the boys from 1916 tried to help Charles, and when that didn't work, they both stayed to try and protect other people from these violent spirits, and now their unfinished business is finished! It's so tragic and touching story

Charles and Edwin, who are putting their tools back in the backpack, roll their eyes and smile at each other

On the way out, Charles swipes the memory cards from the cameras, Edwin inscribes a couple of sneaky runes on various pieces of equipment to fuck with it, and Crystal uses her powers to make sure they all remember a couple of details differently, so later they won't be able to agree on a bunch of stuff

The episode they were trying to make can't be released, their social media posts about the experience are full of details that don't match up, and fans are bitterly disappointed

Crystal and Niko watch the footage Charles stole with Jenny and the Night Nurse back at the agency. Jenny turns it into a drinking game. Charles does a dramatic reading of the posts with added commentary while Edwin pretends he's not laughing. They buy t-shirts of the paranormal investigators and wear them ironically. They leave anonymous comments

Just. The dead boy detectives having to work around ghost hunters, in a world where ghosts definitely, tangibly exist