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#The fact that his parents didn't notice
artsysurvivor · 1 year
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Thinking about how Halt going to find Will in Skandia helps soothe over the guilt he had about abandoning Caitlyn.
Also thinking about how Will might've lost hope if Halt hadn't left sooner, thinking he'd abandoned him. How part of the reason, a very small part albeit, that Halt felt so obligated to get Will soon enough is because Halt knows how it feels to be abandoned and seemingly unloved.
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meneatyoghurt · 6 months
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Oh no Nowak 😬 I don't like how obsessed with cheating this show is, but at least this time there's only one cheating storyline so far. So that's an improvement I guess? Anyways, you better tell him pronto, Milosz.
Still not sold on Haley and Wheezer. Seemed to come out of nowhere, and just...meh. It's like they just wanted someone to notice the painkiller use and a) it had to be a dude instead of a friend (I mean I guess Crystal is busy) and b) Wheezer has nothing else to do.
Not mad about Jeremy and the new lady, tbh. I'm not sure he and Crystal are right for each other. Not now anyway. Maybe like...in a few years. Crystal should focus on her career (unless she decides that's not what she wants, which I'm not ruling out...)
I still find Bodie quite dull.
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jacksintention · 10 months
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At times I can be wrong of course, but often I think it's so obvious that someone's view on a character or story (and most of the time lack of sympathy/understanding) is caused by a lack of personal experience
#I notice this with depressive characters‚ mistreated characters‚ revengeful characters and especially suicidal characters#I saw someone's post about how they are very prosaic and can't see Hea.thclif.f as anything but a (fascinating) villain and like...#I would have my suspicions but in this particular case I know for a fact that person has a good relationship with her parents#She was never mistreated in her own home#The steps of her parents didn't make her shiver. She was never hit or insulted or humiliated#Her parents' influence in her life is positive. They worked to help her achieve her goals and supported her#I don't know... It sure is a change. I can't see Hea.thclif.f's actions as just villainous or unjustified even if they're awful#In his case there's also a component of racism. Even if he takes revenge also on the kids of the people that hurt him‚#I still can't see it as entirely baseless or unjustified or 'beyond limits'. Maybe they're not actively to blame for what happened to him#But they passively participate in it. They are part of what hurt him. They *are* what hurt him. Even beyond being 'the kids of'#And He.ath.cli.ff himself was a blameless kid when most things happened to him. Is he terrible at that point to the kids? Yes#But I can't see him just as a fascinating villain and I can't see that his actions go beyond what's 'right' or 'fair'#I too would want to make my parents' life a living hell until the day they died if I didn't have younger siblings idk xD#Anyway I often feel this happens with people's perception of many characters in this manga. Such as Vincent#But Lacie too and I'd say mainly Jack#It doesn't mean a lack of experience makes a character impossible to be understood or even understood well. I don't believe that#But I do think often readers fall into a misunderstanding or bafflement or lack of sympathy (or excessive sympathy) for a few characters#because of this‚ because they lack some experiences. Maybe it's because they just go with vibes#Although often even after analysing they just reach conclusions that are so lacking of certain emotions that still I think they're telling#of their lack of sympathy and personal experience. This person analyses and reads W.uther.ing H.eigh.ts constantly for example#She doesn't go just on vibes like when people just claim 'Jack is nuts'#I guess her approach more like that one post about how Jack is a symbol of depression and many others analysing him#Oouf Jack analysis is so bad as a whole I'd rather stop thinking about it haha#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later#I remember once I was trying to have a conversation about Jack‚ how he behaved around people and how it was linked to his past experiences#But mainly about his complex relationships with Laci.e and Oswald (which included some talk on sexuality)#and how I find them very coherent and tbh realistic and natural given the context‚ and in many ways very relatable#And that person's reply was 'okay but Jack's a sociopath and that kind of behaviour in any way and degree is sociopathic'#Like idk. Okay I guess
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UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.
1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.
2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.
So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.
Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.
He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.
Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.
Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.
I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.
He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.
I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.
OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.
Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world
PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox
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too-much-tma-stuff · 3 months
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This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.
In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.
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Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.
He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?
He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.
And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.
So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.
It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.
"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.
He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.
"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"
'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.
"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.
"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.
"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"
"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.
"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.
The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.
Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.
Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.
"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.
The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.
Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.
The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.
He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.
"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.
"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.
"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.
"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.
"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"
Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.
"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.
"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.
"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."
"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.
"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"
Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.
"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."
"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.
The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?
That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.
Part 2
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loosescrewslefty · 1 month
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This was absolutely brilliantly done.
Because this isn't Anya's most closely guarded secret being discovered by accident without her consent. She made an active, CONSCIOUS choice to tell Damian that she is a telepath. Something that she was previously terrified would lead to her being hated if someone happened to find out. And throughout this little prom arc we slowly get fed the reasons that lead up to this moment. First being that while she initially saw Damian as a bratty, self centered jerk, Anya has slowly come to know him better and see a more noble and compassionate boy under all that cocky bluster.
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Then there's the way Damian also mentions to her that many people try and use him in order to get close to his parents-- which she sees for herself when the other girls start swarming him demanding to dance-- hence his suspicions of her own intentions.
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And the finally is the fact that, despite his own admission that his parents barely acknowledge he's alive, Damian still loves and admires them and is desperate to earn their affection.
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In fact, during the Damian quiz, it's implied that Anya didn't use her powers to figure out who Damian's most beloved person was, because she already knew the answer just from knowing him. It's the only question we don't see her telepathic 'sparkles' or hear her listening on the answer.
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It happened slowly and subconsciously, but despite the unflattering first impression Anya has come to care about Damian. She doesn't want him to be hurt or sad. She doesn't want to use him or take advantage of him the way she sees others try to (and the way a small subset of the fandom accuses Anya of trying to since they can't seem to grasp that Anya is at most six years old and hasn't thought as far as to how the fallout of Twilight's mission will affect the Desmonds). And she understand him a lot better than she ever realized. She trusts him with her deepest, darkest secret despite her fear and the uncertainty because she genuinely WANTS to be honest with Damian. It's her olive branch to him, after HE was vulnerable with her time and again when it comes to his family and his fear of letting others close after so many people tried to use him for his name.
Because more than anyone else, Damian has noticed her, and how intuitive she is of the thoughts of others.
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And despite denying or deflecting it time and time again-- including intentionally bombing a few questions in this chapter to avoid standing out too much after Damian called her out again-- Anya FINALLY came clean to him about her powers.
And, of course, he thought she was messing with him, which in turn pissed HER off because this is her biggest secret, dammnit! XD
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But despite Damian's refusal to believe her ATM, this isn't something Anya can take back, and Damian is perceptive enough of Anya that sooner or later he's going to realize that Anya was being honest with him. And it'll be a wild ride to see where things go from there.
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radiance1 · 4 months
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@puppetmaster13u You called Danny a space whale in the tags of one of this post.
Now what if that was literal?
Hear me out, Danny outlives his friends, parents, sister. Danny becomes a literal whale.
Well, not a literal one because he's a ghost, but he takes the shape one of at the very least. He's just a giant, glowing white whale that looks pretty divine not going to lie.
Danny leaves earth. It wasn't safe for him anymore, what with the GIW and all that as even the ghosts found it not even worth anymore to visit the mortal world.
Except for Desiree and Spectra, but that's besides the point.
But Danny doesn't retreat to the zone, he's always longed for space, but because of his new half humanness he doesn't get believe he could've ever gone because, well. Yea.
But Danny goes fuck it and goes anyway. His form shifts from human to that of a giant whale, and he swims out into the vastness of space.
Years pass, and Danny does start getting bigger as he aged. He explored the vastness of space, marveling at many things, the different planets, the stars, the formations of rock and other things.
Then he encounters someone he never though he would've.
Vlad.
Well, he knew Vlad was left behind in space by his father but he didn't think he would find him again and Vlad seemed... different, from what he remembered.
For one thing, he didn't even know where Vlad began and space ended. He got only see those red eyes that even hinted at it being the man. His body was void black and filled with stars upon stars, all glittering from his body and Vlad barely even seemed to notice him, or if he did, he didn't seem to care at all.
So, Danny took him.
He was both curious and felt a bit bad about what happened to Vlad, even if he didn't know exactly what happened, and he couldn't just leave him there either.
So on his back Vlad went, and his travels continued.
It seemed to be the correct decision, really, because slowly overtime Vlad seemed to be regaining his awareness. Then slowly, tentatively, started to speak with him through ghost speak.
Vlad only seemed to vaguely remember what he was before space. He remembered hating a man, loving a woman, wanting a son, loneliness and a boy with white hair and toxic green eyes.
Even though Vlad was his former enemy, his nemesis, and someone who took the world hostage.
He couldn't help but feel pity for him.
Then their travels continued.
Years pass unnoticed, when in space, with Danny slowly getting bigger and bigger as the two travel throughout. They've come into contact with various civilizations, some hostile, some peaceful, some neutral.
The hostile ones never lasted long, even if Danny never lifted a flipper to do anything most of the time, Vlad made sure of it.
They came at went as they pleased, and Danny believes that they've gained a bit of a reputations over their adventures, but neither he nor Vlad knew exactly what they said. It did prove useful in some cases, however.
A few more years, and Danny feels that this system is vaguely familiar. Which happens sometimes, considering he's been travelling for so long. He then finds out why it was so familiar.
He came across Earth and, oh. When was the Earth so small?
Well, not small really, but when was he just only a bit smaller than it?
Did it shrink when he was away? Or did he just grow?
That doesn't matter though. What does, is the fact that currently seemed to be an invasion going on, on his home planet thank you very much. He did not like the fact that there was a massive fleet parked right outside his home.
So he spoke to Vlad, expressed his displeasure, Vlad responded back knowingly and went off to make the source of his displeasure disappear. That doesn't Danny was idle either, the fleet was big and, well.
It's been a while since he's stretched himself in a fight.
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sinsofsummers · 10 months
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sensational; part ii
6.8k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader follow-up to sensational
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summary: you've tasked joel with teaching you about all of the things you missed. he's back for more...teaching moments. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. softdom!joel vibes in this one, joel gives reader an anatomy lesson, pet names (lots of dollface) fingering, praise kink to the gods, masturbation (f and brief m), reader gives joel a hand(y), grinding, bit of a corruption kink toward the end, jesus there might need to be a part 3 note: well. look at what you guys did. you went and loved on sensational so much and asked for a part 2 so often that i just had to grant your wishes. i hope you’re fckn happy✌🏼🥹 (this is all jokes i’m so excited to write more of this dynamic teehee)
You'd never counted yourself as a dreamer of any sort; when sleep clouded your brain at night, every thought faded along with it. Aside from the occasional nightmare, reminding you of your parents' absence, you hadn't had an actual dream since you were a kid.
Of course, that night in Joel's house had changed everything, in every possible way. In just an hour or so he had taken your world into his hands, shaped it, flipped it, and returned it to you, unrecognizable. His name was carved into everything you saw and touched, and this included your dreams.
He was everywhere in your head when you slept. So much so that you'd begun to forget which was reality and which was a figment of your imagination, which made your patrols with him all the more humiliating.
Your hands were cold. It was all you could focus on as you followed Joel along your normal patrol route. Just twelve hours had passed since that night in his house, when he'd touched you with rough hands and what taught you what it meant to feel desired. His words still rang clear in your head days later:
Trust me, doll. I've got so much more to teach you.
It sent your head reeling just to think about it now. The memory of his fingertips grazing the side of your face as he'd said it, those brown eyes sparkling with desire for you—a vision of contentment.
You had leaned into his touch subconsciously, reaching a hand up to trace the line of his wrist. His eyes had darted to where your fingers pressed to his skin, a soft grin replacing his satisfied smirk. "I'd better get you home, then," he'd whispered.
It had taken everything in you to ignore the small pang of disappointment that had bloomed in your gut, but it was an easier task when he'd dropped his lips to your forehead.
"No one'll miss me at home," you'd protested quietly, trying not to relish too much in the feeling of his beard scratching at the space between your eyebrows.
This sentiment was true. You still didn't know how things had worked out so well, but after arriving in Jackson, Tommy (the fact that it was Joel's younger brother made this seem all the less coincidental) and Maria had been more than accommodating. They'd offered you your own space, a house to yourself. Granted, it was much smaller than Joel's, but it was your own. It had become home in the four short years you'd lived in Jackson.
No one was waiting for you at home. It was a fact that used to make your throat close up, memories taunting you every moment they could. Now it was a welcomed thought, if it meant that you could remain in the heady presence of Joel Miller.
But he'd only shaken his head, his brown eyes flitting down to your lips before returning to your gaze. "I'm sure they'll notice when you don't come strolling out of your own place in the mornin'," he'd insisted gently. His thumb traced your bottom lip when your shoulders slumped. You hoped you didn't look as pitiful as you felt, your lip threatening to push outward in a pout.
"Might not be able to keep my hands to myself tonight if I let you stay," he'd breathed. You didn't care if he said it as an apology, or if it was actually true.
Because who were you to disagree with him? It was Joel.
So without more than a lingering hand on your wrist, he'd walked you to your door. When you'd teased him for such a chivalrous act, he'd cocked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at you. "Can't just let you walk home alone after that," he'd scoffed, his voice rough again in the outdoors. A few people were still milling about despite it being darker than pitch after nightfall. "M'not a complete scoundrel," he said with a wry grin.
Your front door always looked so inviting, a place for you to take a breath and relax after a long day. In that moment, it was taking everything in you to put one foot in front of the other and return to your own place.
"Scoundrel," you'd mused, hoping the amusement in your voice covered the way you leaned back with every step, as if you could claim one more touch of his body—arm, chest, shoulder—to send you to bed with nothing but him on your mind. "Kind of a big word, wouldn't you say?" you'd teased him, just as he'd done to you. "Sure you know what it means?"
The twitch of his jaw was enough of a reward for your attempt at humor, but your satisfied smirk had been wiped clean off your face when he'd darted a glance around before leaning in, hovering just centimeters from your face.
It occurred to you in that moment that you'd truly only kissed him once. A shame, a voice in your head sighed. His lips were devastatingly plump, even in the darkness.
Joel had stayed there, his eyes tearing down to your mouth before warning you in that deliciously low baritone, "I know what it is. Best get inside," his jaw twitched once more and you caught him clenching and unclenching his fists, "'fore I show you what it means to be a scoundrel."
You'd gone inside with a shaky breath and the return of that familiar pulse that, it seemed, only he knew how to ignite.
Joel chose not to look in the mirror when he'd gone home that night. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the way his hair was undoubtedly wild, his eyes hard with desire, and his hands still aching with the memory of her squirming body in his lap.
After four years of near silence, this girl had unraveled him. After all those days on patrol with her, nothing to do except look at her when she wouldn't notice, Joel Miller had been undone.
The next day, waking up early with the stiffness in his boxers begging to be dealt with, Joel spit on his palm and wrapped it around his cock, releasing a sigh. Fuck's sake, he thought with a groan. Can't hardly get a full night's sleep anymore.
It should have annoyed him; it was certainly an inconvenience. But if it meant that he'd get to spend more time thinking about her body and her lips and her eyes when she asked those incessant questions, then so be it. He'd never sleep another wink and be glad for it.
It didn't take long for his release to come, not when the memories of her whines were so fresh in his mind. To think that he'd had her on his lap, hips squirming in that way that only she knew...it was enough to make him—"A grown fuckin' man," he reminded himself—spill into his hands and draw ragged breaths into his lungs to recover.
With an arm thrown across his face, he latched onto the image of her in the heat of ecstasy, her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips wet from constantly biting them.
For a moment, he tried to rein himself in. Can't be doin' this, he'd thought while getting ready for patrol that morning. Don't wanna take advantage of her, or fuck her up cause of my inability to control my own desires.
In reality, he'd considered, did she really know what she was getting herself into? With little more knowledge than the mechanics of reproduction, it had been evident with the events of the previous night that she knew nothing of what pleasure could be. Did he really want to be responsible for her discovery of such things?
But when he went to the stables an hour later and saw her standing in the snow with an extra twinge in her grin and her eyes sparkling despite the echoes of fatigue in her irises, every doubt dissipated immediately. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes lingered on his back when they saddled up, heading out of Jackson for the day.
Joel Miller was never one to deny a woman in need. Why should he have stopped now?
"How'd you sleep?"
When you looked over at him, almost shocked that he'd broken the silence, your eyebrow quirked up. "Fine," you answered.
It wasn't that this patrol had been disappointing, it was just...ever since you'd left Jackson that morning, you'd been waiting for him to look at you like he had the night before, or to even acknowledge you in the way that you could still remember him doing.
Maybe it was because Tommy was nearby at the time, or maybe he'd changed his mind after all. Maybe you'd overstepped, asking a man so much older than you to teach you all of this. Maybe it hadn't happened at all—your dreams were rather convincing these days.
If it hadn't been for those girls, hell-bent on making you feel ostracized, perhaps you wouldn't have landed yourself in this position. You probably wouldn't have had any reason to be curious about what it all meant, and you could have gone on in comfortable silence with him on your patrols.
With a heavy mind, you blew out a breath. If it hadn't been for those girls, though—you never would have known the creases that sank into the corners of his eyes when he grinned at you.
Beside you, having held back to come up shoulder-to-shoulder, Joel huffed. "Bullshit, darlin'," he scoffed, casting a sideways glance in your direction.
You tightened your hands on the reins. "Excuse me?" you said sharply.
His chuckle was a soft rumble in his chest, and you ached to feel it against your back. "I saw those sleepy eyes at the stables," he crooned, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like you remembered. "Looks like someone didn't get a good night's sleep."
"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe you slept like a damn baby, then?" You couldn't help the incredulity in your tone, but you blushed when you noticed him smirking, his lips twitching as he fought a smile away.
"'Course not," he shook his head almost dismissively. "Couldn't tell my brain to stop conjurin' pictures of you shakin' in my lap." He adjusted the way he was seated on his horse, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was getting hard at the reminder of the memory.
You, in a similar vein, were trying to ignore the unmistakable feel of heat puddling between your legs. Keeping your eyes forward, you asked, "Is that a good thing?"
Joel nodded. "A very good thing, dollface. You were so good for me last night."
Any air that had been in your lungs left in a rush, and you put a hand to your cheek, warm despite the winter's wind. You thought you heard yourself whine at the sound of the pet name.
Thankfully, he didn't say or do anything to show that he'd noticed. Instead, he tugged his horse to a stop. "Let's get down here," he said. "Walk and talk, yeah?"
The thought of walking beside him after all that had happened the night before was enough to make you freeze in your saddle, suddenly unsure of how to get down. "Yeah," you mumbled, if only to fill the silence.
You could hear the crunch of snow under his boots as he came up beside you, thick gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, darlin'," he'd insisted, "I won't bite."
There was a note of irony in his tone, and you let him pull you from your saddle, landing in the snow in front of him. Your jacket snagged against his, and you stood there for a moment, letting your frosty wisps of breath coil and furl with his. "What do you mean?" you asked, cursing your ever-present confidence when it came to asking him questions. It seemed that you'd never learn to hold your tongue.
"Hmm?" he hummed in response. "What's what mean?" He stepped away from you to grab the reins in his hand and began to walk forward in the snow.
You shook your head and pushed on, stumbling after him. When did the snow get so deep? "You sounded rather..." you trailed off, searching for the word.
"Oh, here it comes," he mused in that serious tone, hardly covering the teasing lilt that rang clear in his eyes. "Bet you're coming up with a big word right about now, huh?"
You couldn't help it when you rolled your eyes and swatted a hand at the back of his arm. "I was going to say you sounded smug," you finished. "About how you won't bite?"
There it was again. That look of slight surprise at your questions. You waited for a few moments, the two of you trudging along in the snow, before he answered quietly. "We're jumpin' ahead of ourselves, but I s'pose it won't hurt." He shrugged. "Some people like it. Biting."
You furrowed your eyebrows. "Like it?" You looked down at your hands, covered in thick gloves. "Doesn't it hurt?"
Joel smirked. "It can," he considered, "if the person gettin' bitten wants it like that." He brushed your arm with his. "But some people don't like it at all. Just depends."
You braved a look up at his face and swallowed roughly, feeling your core pulse at the sight of his rosy cheeks. "Does it have to hurt?" You didn't mean to sound so desperate; you were just curious. "I mean, is it like...like a real bite?"
It happened so quickly that you hardly had a moment to process. Joel stopped in his tracks, pulled you near, and dipped his head down to your ear. "Don't have to," he murmured, and you were just starting to quiver at the feel of his voice next to your ear when he was brushing your hair from your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin. "Can feel good, if the person doin' the biting knows how."
You couldn't help the hand that shot out to grab his arm, as if it were the only thing that might hold you up. "I'm assuming you know how," you said thickly, eyes wandering on his weathered face. Funny, you thought at the sight of his grin, he looks quite young like this.
Joel shifted his arm so he could squeeze your hand once with his before letting it go. "Don't boost my ego too high, sweetcheeks," he warned, but you could hear the humor in his voice. "Might never let go if you do."
You knew he was kidding, but the prospect that he was being serious made your stomach flutter and forced you to clench your thighs together, bringing the forefront of your attention back to the frustration that was pooling between your legs. "Joel," you muttered in a whine, not quite realizing you'd said it until he was looking at you with a twinge of concern.
"What's up, doll?" he asked, slowing to a stop. "Somethin' wrong?"
A curly tendril of his graying hair was blown into his face with the winter wind, and you wished you could brush it away with your fingers like he'd done just moments ago. "I..." you inhaled deeply, and shifted your weight. "I'm..."
It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, his eyes sparkled. "Oh, doll," he cooed, reaching forward to tug you closer to him. "Need something', huh?"
You leaned your head forward until your forehead rested against him, breathing in the scene of pine and old leather and that heady musk that was utterly Joel. Nodding into his strong chest, you brought your hand up to his wrist and tugged it down, down, down...there.
Joel's large hand cupped the mound between your legs and you swallowed harshly as it pulsed again, begging for the sweet release he'd given you the night before. "Fuck," he breathed, the vibrations of his voice rolling against your skin. "Shoulda told me you were this bothered, baby," he hummed.
You lifted your head. "I've been trying," you said in a pitiful whine, although this wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. "Why does it...why do I ache so bad?"
His smirk quivered, and his pupils were suddenly huge as he withdrew his hand from where it covered your heat, exposing it to the frigid winter air once more. "I think we've gone far enough, don't you?" he winked. "Think we may as well head back."
The implications of what would happen when you got back to Jackson made your head spin. Nodding feverishly, you let go of the twinge of embarrassment at your eagerness. "Yes, please," you hiccuped.
His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "Good," he murmured.
This was the worst possible outcome.
Just when you'd worked up to exactly where you wanted to be with Joel, with his hands on you and his intentions leading you back to his house (and hopefully his couch), Tommy stopped you at the stables.
Well, not you. Not you at all, actually. He stalked up to his older brother and said, Meeting at my place, Joel."
He'd just gotten down from his saddle to help you do the same and was letting his hands linger on your waist when the interruption happened. With his hungry eyes locked on yours, he'd been leaning into your touch and hovering his hands just inches from your heat.
You could have sworn he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Tommy's voice; you just hoped it was because of his infamous hearing loss on his ride side and decidedly not because he'd been caught standing so close to you.
"We just had a meeting last week," he said gruffly, his eyes still searching yours. For what, you weren't sure—but you were quickly growing addicted to finding those rare flecks of gold buried in the espresso brown seas reflected back at you. His hands clenched involuntarily, and given the fact that they were resting around your hips, you got a delicious lick of pleasure that shot through your pelvis at the sensation.
Tommy didn't seem to be in the mood for dawdling. "And now we're having one this week," he insisted. "My place. Maria and the others are waiting."
You lifted your chin to see him close his eyes in annoyance. His mouth opened once; he closed it. When he opened it again, his eyes flashed along with the movement. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute," he said tersely, and you pretended not to notice the way his gloved thumb rubbed a slow circle on your hip. An apology, perhaps.
When he didn't move, you blushed with smug satisfaction. It had never been more clear that he didn't want to move.
"Joel, it's important." Usually, you'd never had an issue with Tommy. Now, of course, the sound of his voice clawed at your every hope for tonight.
With a soft look at your lips, Joel jerked his head to look at his brother. "I said give me a fuckin' minute," he said, his words clipped. "Fuck's sake," he muttered as he turned around. "Just answerin' a goddamn question," he finished, soft enough that you were sure his brother couldn't hear.
Tommy grumbled his fair share of disapproving words, but you couldn't help the grateful bubble that bloomed in your gut when you heard the shuffle of his boots as he left you alone in the stables with Joel.
He waited a moment or two before letting out a soft sigh. You couldn't have known how disappointed he was, but the way he lifted a hand to your cheek was clue enough. "New lesson, dollface," he said.
A pang of regret hit your stomach and you found yourself shaking your head. "Please?" you asked in a quiet voice. "I don't want a new lesson."
Joel grinned and sucked in a sharp breath. "I know, baby, I know." The familiar phrase threw you back to the night before, when he'd had his hands all over you, reassuring you with those exact words. But now, it wasn't a comfort. "But if I'm not around and you need to feel good..." His hand trailed down your cheek, brushed against your chest and returned to its previous spot between your legs. "I want you to practice touchin' yourself, yeah?"
His voice had become a near-painful whisper, just loud enough for you to feel rather than hear his words caress your skin. "This of me all you want, darlin'. God knows I'll be thinkin' of you at this damn...meeting," he practically spat the last word, but it didn't take away from the pressure that was building and causing you to blink rapidly. "Think about me," he repeated, "but I want you to explore this pretty body for me so you can tell me all about it when I get back."
The sound of his voice enveloped you, that heady sensation nearly making your knees give out. With a slow nod, you couldn't see yourself ever disobeying him. Not when he asked such sinful things of you.
"Okay," you whispered. "I'll try."
His mouth was in a hard line, his irritation at Tommy's interruption still prevalent. But it softened for a moment when he slid a gloved thumb over your bottom lip, letting it get pulled from its place before bouncing back. You darted your tongue out, wetting your lip in a desperate attempt to taste his leather on your skin; to taste him.
"Good," he said softly. Something new pulsed at the sound of his praise, but you fought it down. "I'll see you soon, doll."
Despite everything you tried when you got home—despite squeezing your eyes shut and picturing that dimple in Joel's cheek when he smirked, or the way his arms felt when wrapped around you—nothing helped. The pressure remained, the ache between your legs was ever-present, and yet...
You couldn't give yourself the release you craved. Not like Joel could.
There was no telling how long you tried, hand shoved down your pants in a sour attempt to replicate the feeling he'd given you. Your fingers were clumsy, untrained, and entirely new to the task, leaving you desperate and unsatisfied. A strangled whine left your throat when your mind flashed with the memory of his face near yours, his lips on your own, and his rough hands rubbing that small bud at your center. It was maddening.
He'd asked you to do this one thing, and you couldn't deliver. Of course, you'd never even realized this was a possibility; you'd only ever heard of men bringing themselves to the plummeting precipice of pleasure. You never considered that you could do the same.
But you didn't want to make yourself feel good. You wanted Joel to do it.
After what felt like hours, stuck in your house alone, Joel nowhere to be found, and with your hopes slipping into despair, you gave up. Your fingers would never be as rough or as thick as his. You didn't know how to explore your body when you couldn't tip yourself over the edge to ecstasy; it was impossible.
Weary and defeated, you went to bed with a groan. Joel still hadn't shown up. Either it was a long meeting, or...you didn't want to entertain the thought that he'd possibly forgotten about you. About your task to be completed.
You actually did drop off into a dreamless sleep, but when you woke to the sound of a knock at your door, you were almost positive the dreams had begun again. Swinging your legs out of bed, you trudged to the door with sleep oozing in every movement. The door opened with a click, and you blinked.
"Sorry I'm late, sweetcheeks," Joel breathed. A distant streetlamp, the only one in Jackson, was the sole source of light that illuminated the edges of his broad body on your porch. He looked near-angelic.
You didn't say anything for a moment, only crossed your arms to keep yourself warm in the face of the wintry outdoors. The relief and anticipation at seeing him here paired with the disappointment and fatigue that it had taken so long warred with each other, creating a dangerous mix as you managed to say, "Are you...hungry? Or something?"
He swallowed, and your head swam with the desire to lay your tongue flat on his neck where his Adam's apple bobbed. "Starving," he groaned, and in one step he was not only in your house but he was all over you, and you were wearing nothing but your thin pajamas.
He'd apparently already taken off his gloves, and when his hand came up to cup your cheek your body registered the chill of his fingers with a shock, despite leaning into his touch all the same. He took a moment to look at you before touching his forehead to yours, pressing his lips to yours gently. You could practically taste the restraint on his mouth, and you wanted nothing more than to beg him for everything.
Something about your face must have given it away when he pulled back because he tapped a finger against your cheek. "You look like you need somethin'." He darted a look down to your legs. "Did you do what I asked?"
You weren't sure what made you lie, but you nodded nonetheless. "Uh-huh."
Even in the dark, he was so close to you that you could see his eyebrow lift in question. You didn't know how he knew, but why wouldn't he? This was Joel. "You didn't come," he concluded, and you ducked your head. "Why not, dollface? I thought I told you to."
The implication that his request was, in fact, a command, didn't slip your mind. Your cheeks burned when you forced yourself to look at him. "I couldn't. I don't know how."
"Sure you do," he whispered. "You did real good last night for me, remember?" His lips ghosted your jaw.
You shook your head. "I don't know how. I've never...made myself come."
When Joel looked at you, you could have sworn his lips twitched, betraying the desire in his movements. "I'm sorry, babydoll," he cooed, bringing his other hand to your cheek. He slotted his lips over yours once more, and it was all you could do not to sink to the floor right there. "We'll have to fix that, won't we?"
You nodded. "Show me? Please?"
Without another word he bent to brush his lips across your hairline—you could have sworn you felt him inhale with his nose in your hair—and murmured, "In the morning, yeah?"
You pulled away to complain but he only gave you a soft smile. It was then that you could see the exhaustion in his face, eyes downturned despite those creases winking at you in the darkness. "But—"
"Told Tommy you need a day off," he clarified. "'Cause you're...sore..." he splayed his hand on your back and tugged you near, voice low. "Ya know, from all that horseback ridin'."
An anticipatory chuckle bubbled from your chest. "No way he bought that," you said breathlessly as he nipped your jawline with his teeth (you were almost sure it was supposed to be a kiss). "I've been patrolling on horseback for years."
Joel shrugged and looked down at you with a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe I should have told him you were waiting for me to come home and make you fall apart on my fingers," he said dismissively, but his tone did nothing to stop your stomach from flipping.
"Oh," you said dumbly, cursing yourself inwardly for how easily you were rendered speechless in his presence. "He'll...he'll really let us take the day off?" Your mind swam with the possibilities of what you could do with an entire day.
He shook his head. "Not us, darlin'. Just you." Tracing the line of your jaw, his lips twisted into a dry smirk. "I'll have to go tomorrow. But," he whispered, squeezing a hand on your hip and cocking an eyebrow at the way your legs wobbled," I'd gladly go every morning all by myself if it meant you were in your bed all day, daydreamin' about me."
It was a heavier confession that you'd expected out of him, and you let out a breathy sigh. "In the morning then," you asked. You swallowed roughly in an attempt to push down the lump of pure need that had risen in your chest, but to no avail.
Joel nodded firmly. "Trust me," he hummed, "in the morning."
So you'd led him to your bed with no more discussion. It hadn't occurred to you that he might not stay the night; he'd come to your place after the meeting like he'd said, and it was the middle of the night. Why wouldn't he have stayed the night?
Despite everything in you fighting to stay awake, the second you returned to your mattress and pulled the covers up, your eyelids drooped. Joel stood at the end of the bed and shed his jacket slowly. "Sleep, doll," he said, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent room as he bent to kick off his boots. "I'll be here when you wake up."
Was he getting too close? Was he pushing the boundaries too far, too soon? Probably.
Selfishly, Joel didn't much care.
Sure enough—when morning came, when the dull winter sunlight crept into your house and draped the floor in soft yellow, you felt the dip of your mattress beside you and betrayed Joel's presence. He'd stayed. Like he said.
Quite the dedicated teacher, you thought to yourself with a satisfied warmth. You'd felt him climb into bed last night, but despite your every wish for him to press himself to your back and hold you tightly the whole night, he'd kept at least a foot of space between your bodies. Always close enough to touch, but never giving in.
You rolled over and swiped a hand over your face, a few stray strands falling into your eyes. The breath left your chest when you saw him there, eyes open and waiting for you. "Hi," you said, your voice rough with sleep. Again with the monosyllabic responses, you scolded yourself.
Joel hummed, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through the mattress and into your body. "Looked so sweet like that, darlin'," he mused, his rough hands tucked under his head. He reached one of them toward you and tapped your bottom lip, plump with sheep, with two of his fingertips. "Didn't wanna wake you up."
"You didn't." You weren't sure what made you do it, but you moved closer, shifting your entire body until your nose almost brushed his. Your eyes flitted up to look at the way his graying hair laid messily around the crown of his head, haircuts neglected for who knew how long. "Can we...I want to start now," you mumbled.
His jaw ticked, and he looked like he was swallowing down a grin. "Look at you," he cooed, "so eager. Aren't you hungry, doll?"
You bit your lip and you could have sworn you saw his eyes widen. "Starving," you fumbled over the word, imitating his response to you the night before on your porch.
Joel let go of a chuckle and his eyes danced with mirth. "Always turnin' my words back on me, aren't ya?" When you nodded sheepishly, he slid his hand around to cup the back of your head and he pulled you in, connecting his lips with yours. "Okay, pretty girl," he said. "We'll start. Since you asked so nicely."
His lips were chapped from the cold weather but they were still soft as he pressed them to yours, moving lazily as the two of you blinked away the last clutches of sleep. "Always so soft, these lips," he murmured, and then his hand was moving from your neck to your chest. "Everyone's different, yeah? There's these spots on everyone's body," he said, absentmindedly drawing swirls along the expanse of your chest, making you shiver. "Let's call them...pleasure points."
"Pleasure points," you repeated breathlessly, your stomach fluttering as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Is that—"
He grinned with a nod. "Think I just found one of 'em, doll." He rolled you onto your back and bent his head down, his breath fanning over your chest and warming you through your thin pajama shirt. "This is how we get you all ready for me, when the time comes."
You nodded quietly and let out a shaky sigh as his hands wandered. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you practically preened at the feeling of his lips against your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your breasts, moving over your stomach. "Joel—"
He paused, hand hovering over the hem of your shirt. "What, babygirl?"
You couldn't help the whine that fought its way out of your throat. "Please," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the pressure that writhed in your core.
Joel's fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, his mouth widening in a grin at the way that your stomach rose and fell in spattered pants. "Come on, darlin'," he crooned, "open those pretty eyes for me. Gotta see you, doll."
It was all you could do not to take his hand in your own and shove it to your core where you needed him desperately, but you did as he asked.
"That's it, baby," he breathed, good girl."
You'd become familiar with the way your stomach clenched at his use of pet names, but this was new. You had done well for him. You wanted to stay that way. "Will you touch me please? I need—"
"So eager," he murmured, leaning in with his lips to your earlobe. "Lemme take my time with you, dollface." And then his lips were wrapping to the soft part of your ear, his teeth grazing at your skin. Paired with this sensation and the heady feeling of his hand on your waistband, fumbling to push his hand beneath it, you arched your back and released a series of high-pitched whines.
"JoelJoelJoelpleasepleaseplease," you were overcome with the pure, unbridled need that was speeding through your body like a tidal wave on a summer day.
"Alright, darlin', alright," he acquiesced, pushing his hand into your waistband and pulling it down over your hips. You didn't even have the mind to be shy about being laid bare to him this way; you just needed him to touch you.
Before you could beg him again, he had his fingertip on your core, sliding it gently through your slick heat. "Oh, baby," he groaned, rutting his hips against your side. His bulge pressed into your hip and you flexed your fingers to reach for it. "M'never gettin' used to how wet you are for me," his voice shook.
One finger became two, and then his fingertips were rubbing sweet circles to your sensitive bud, drawing near pornographic moans to tumble past your lips. "Can I touch you, please?" you begged, your hand fisting your bedsheets. "Wanna touch you, Joel, please."
He hummed against your ear as he swiped another finger against your bud and lifted your hand to his lips. "Sure thing, doll," he said, and placed it in his hair. Your fingers instinctually carded through the coarse strands, and you blushed when his eyes fluttered closed. "Hold on tight if you need to, pretty girl," he grinned, and lemme know if it's too much."
You were going to ask if what was too much, but then he dipped his finger further down your core, notching it at the small opening. You hadn't even thought this far ahead, that things would eventually lead here. Something pulsed and you whined, tugging his hair in your hand.
"Look at you, so ready for me," he murmured against your neck. His tongue swept out to lick a small stripe along the sensitive skin there and when you let out a stuttering breath he chuckled. "You are ready for me, aren't ya, pretty girl?"
You couldn't nod fast enough. "Please," you choked out, and then he was pressing his finger inside you.
It was a small intrusion, but overwhelming all the same. In all your years, you'd never had the thought that it could feel this good to have him close to you like this. He was only as far as the first knuckle, but with the way that his bulge was nudging your hips, he wanted much more. "Good girl," he breathed, "such a good girl, openin' your legs like this."
"Wanna touch you," you whimpered again, vision blurring with the desperation that coursed through your veins. "Please, Joel, let me touch you."
He kissed you, but you could hardly focus enough to move your lips against his. "Already touchin' me," he said. "You want more?"
"Yes," you nodded feverishly, releasing your hand from his hair. "I wanna..." you looked down at his bulge and licked your lips.
Joel's eyes were wide as he whispered, "For fuck's sake, darlin', when you're cryin' about it..." he swiped a thumb across your cheeks, collecting a teardrop you hadn't even known was there. "How could I say no?"
Thankyouthankyouthankyou were the only words in your mind, a jumbled mess as you reached for him. Your finger traced his length and before you knew it, you were reaching inside his boxers to release it from its constraints. "Holy fuck," you whined, bucking your hips into his hand as you saw just how big he was, long and thick and heavy in your hand. "Need it," you found yourself whispering. "Need you."
It was all you could do before he pushed his finger further, then out, and then in, just enough to throw you closer to that addicting edge of ecstasy. Once again, you found yourself enveloped in the thick pressure of pure desire in his arms.
He pressed the pad of his thumb to your bud and swirled circles in your heat, his lips connecting to your ear once more. "Alright, baby. Alright, baby," he practically chanted in a low tone, nibbling on your lobe just hard enough to pinch the skin. "C'mon now, squeeze my finger like that, that's it," he groaned, drawing out the final two syllables, "good girl."
With his hand in the crux of your legs and his mouth connected to your ear, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your sheltered life, you threw your head back into the pillow and curled your legs toward him, your hand squeezing his cock tightly as you continued your strokes.
The sounds that erupted from your throat as you burst in a state of pure pleasure were the most pitiful (and yet electrifying) noises you'd ever heard yourself make, and you couldn't help but continue rolling your hips into his hands, chasing the feeling until it became more intense and your legs began to twitch again. "Joel," you mewled, voice breaking, "I need you."
A teasing chuckle sounded, and your cheeks warmed as he removed his hand from your slick. "So much you don't know, dollface," he crooned, tracing his index down the line of your nose. He pushed another, shining with your release, into your mouth. The sweetness nearly made you fall apart again. "Don't know if you're ready for that."
Your body was on fire, nearly throbbing with the insatiable need to be wrapped in his arms, with his hands everywhere, his lips anywhere. Your hand had been moving on his shaft, but his hips stuttered with your next words. "I am," you insisted, "I need you, please. I wanna feel you everywhere."
Joel's pupils went wide and he shuddered out a breath, mumbling a string of curses with his eyes shut. He thrusted his hips into your hand and then your skin was sticky and warm with his own release, some of it landing on your stomach where you lay beside him.
"Shit," he groaned with a rueful smirk. "Maybe I'm not ready for that yet." His breath fanned deliciously over your skin as he continued. "Can't hardly last long enough with the thought of stretching you out like that, baby."
You grinned, and you didn't mind the fact that he could definitely see the flush in your cheeks. "No?"
He shook his head. "Fuck no. I don't wanna think about how quickly I'll come if I were to be inside that pretty pussy yet," he said with a short and gentle tap to your mound. When your hips arched off the mattress and you whined at the sensitivity, he cooed apologetically.
"Isn't that a good thing?" you frowned slightly. "I thought I was making you feel good."
"Makin' me feel too good," he mused, bringing his hand up to hold your face toward him once more. He winked. "Can't have me comin' before you do, sweet girl. Not very gentlemanly of me."
You couldn't help the pang of doubt that clouded your face, and it must have been obvious, because then he was cupping the back of your head and pulling you to his chest. Humming into your neck, he smirked. "Besides, I want to be able to take my sweet time with you. To see you squirmin' beneath me like you do, baby? S'enough to make the pope leave the goddamn church."
tysm for reading, i can't believe you guys convinced me to write MORE filth for these two. u made it to the end, lemme know what you thought!
3K notes · View notes
ilycosy · 3 months
Text
❝ YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN
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pairing : luke castellan x reader (no parent mentioned)
summary — being the partner of luke castellan was a blessing and a curse, mostly a blessing— you had the best swordsman at camp and he was extremely loyal. a blessing really, but everyone always wanted him too. sometimes you forget that he could feel insecure too.
warnings : insecurities (relationship + scar) , petnames (baby, sweetheart, love) , hurt/comfort , luke is standoffish and implied to be mentally ill but reader loves him anyways , mentions of other ppl flirting w luke !!
aノn — i want to smother this man in the biggest kisses ever ... he didn't deserve anything that happened to him & he's innocent !!!! it's never said who readers parent is but they don't reside in hermes cabin :) ,,, also i made the scar worse !!!! i wish it was bigger & more gnarly everyday . enjoy !!!!
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you felt burned by the sun everytime he was around, even with his stoic nature and go with the flow personality— he always seemed to burn so bright when you're around. his palms melted you everytime he pulled you into a kiss, his lips hot and slick with spit from his chewing.
his constant even tone (he'll deny when the sass slips through) never bothered you, in fact you quite enjoyed it whenever he spoke. his raspy voice telling you briefly about his day, or talking about a race him and chris had that day, even when he told you not to worry about him.
other people sure seemed to enjoy him too, boys and girls gathered around him like a moth to a flame. his glow always too bright for others not to be drawn, you always saw it— the way girls would giggle and fawn over him, whenever boys lingered around him during activities.
you never told him how it bothered you, because it wasn't really his fault— he was just too perfect.
which is why it shocked you when you began noticing the way he liked keeping the helmet on even after capture the flag, hiding his face until it was deemed inappropriate. the way he favored resting his scarred side in your neck compared to his other, even though he complained of neck pains the day before.
you can't recall when he began doing these little habits, maybe ever since he got the scar, maybe when a younger camper said it made him look scary. you didn't know, but you knew that it wasn't good for him— the way he allowed himself to ache just to hide it.
luke is a great boyfriend, he recognizes when people want something more from him— he's not afraid to distance himself from others when he notices the flirting. it doesn't make him feel good to have that spotlight when you were so much better than him, in every sense of the word.
he never knew how to tell you that he knew. how he knew that the obnoxious flirting hurt you, or how you always backed away when his friends came over.
he would always come in the morning to pick you up from your cabin, hoping that his searing kisses and warm arms could show you that he's yours— even with a disgusting face.
the scar taking up the side of his face made him curl away in disgust whenever he saw it, he completely avoided bathroom mirrors because of it. he hid away from your soft eyes at any chance he could, fearing that you'd realize just how scary it is to date something like him.
the praises eased in slowly, but surely, he almost felt winded the first time he heard it ("baby get your pretty face over here!" you had said, trying to wave him over to your table. he felt lightheaded and nauseous when he walked over.) he didn't know how to handle it.
whenever he tried to ask why you began getting so verbally affectionate, he was waved off with a small wave and shrug. "can't i compliment my boyfriend?" you had asked him with a teasing tone, he hid away under your shirt the rest of the night while he got teased.
you knew that he was confused, but you didn't really care to explain— he'd just shut down and ignore the problem if you did. and you liked complimenting him, especially when he gets flustered like he does.
calling him pretty made his cheeks go red, and he always seemed more spacey after. calling him handsome always got him smiling and hiding his face. cute? he was looking away and blushing. adorable? he scoffed and smiled. gorgeous, he rolled his eyes and flicked you with red ears.
you hadn't called him beautiful yet, waiting for the perfect moment— you'd think you were planning on proposing with how calculated you were with this.
luke hadn't been sleeping well for a while, mumbling in his sleep about nonsense you couldn't understand. stress had clearly taken its toll, and he's chewing again— his lips raw and almost always bloody from his teeth snagging at the skin.
you snuck into hermes' cabin during the night, hoping that he would be up to sneaking out or even finally getting a full night's rest. your boots made him shoot up, sweaty and eyes wide before he realizes its you.
"what're you doing here, love?" he asks in a hushed tone, not yet a whisper but close. you move closer, gently lacing your hand together with his sweaty one. "wanna sneak out?"
the question was whispered, barely audible even. but it made him stand up all the same, sweatpants and cream colored long-sleeved shirt bunched up at the arms, making him look ethereal.
"are you that needy, sweetheart?" he asks as a joke when you've successfully escaped the cabin without waking people. his eyebrows wiggling slightly, his usual stoic facade melting off him like you were a candle and he was wax.
you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you told him no. tugging him along the camp grounds until you found the picnic blanket, the basket of food right next to it all neatly set up— it took you a whole week to convince people to help you find this stuff, a demeter kid had to weave the basket.
"ta-da!" you said, doing jazz hands as you showed him the comfortable blanket. he didn't say anything, only smiling wide as he laid down on it— he patiently waited for you to get the food out, not feeling any sort of rush as he allowed himself to relax.
you hand fed him strawberries, flicking his nose every time he tried to stick your fingers in his mouth. you admired him in the moonlight, he always looked the best at night. his radiating self was enough light for you anyways.
your fingertips gently brushed his face while he was eating, chewing a piece of cake when he felt them. your fingers making their way to his big scar, tracing the jagged edges of it along with the smooth, raised middle.
"what're you doing?" he says, his voice tight in his throat as he tried to ignore the building pit of fear in his stomach.
you hummed, caressing his face as you looked at him. his eyes focused on your nose to avoid eye contact, "you're beautiful," you whisper.
"extremely beautiful." and his face goes red, his eyes watery as his chest rises up and down in deep breaths. his hands are shaky and pulling you closer, desperate for you and your touch.
it makes you really wonder, how could he ever feel insecure when you're convinced he could be cursed by aphrodite herself, and you'd still see his face when camp visits the gods?
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2K notes · View notes
oepionie · 1 year
Text
— "THE PRINCESS TREATMENT." various
SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend and the different ways he pampers and spoils you rotten ♡
⊹ [ cw ] — mentions of winter storms, prefect is implied to have bad living conditions, mild violence in the tweels parts, jade breaks someone's wrist, crowley slander, ace slander◞
⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFFY! feminine reader! no gendered pronouns used, riddle uses his dorm position to spoil you, seeing trey driving is very hot, deuce biceps, leona and azul sugar daddy era, ruggie would rather freeze to death than have you be cold, jack carries you, jade and floyd will fight for you, rook makes you his muse and paints you, malleus renovates the entire diasomnia dorm for you, sebek carries your pink handbags◞
⊹ [ characters ] — riddle, trey, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, rook, malleus, sebek◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 4.9k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞
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—♰ RIDDLE
Princess treatment, Like—literally
Loathe is Riddle to admit—He can't deny the fact that being his lover meant you got special treatment. Prime example being your position at unbirthday parties. At the banquet table, just beside Riddle's designated throne, was your throne. Similar in style, it had a heart-shaped crest and golden frame; the only difference was that it was milky white rather than deep red. And despite his best efforts to downplay the favoritism shown to you, Riddle knows for a fact that he had the throne commissioned himself.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Come with me." The dorm leader says as he moves towards you, leading you towards your throne. He didn't fail to notice how your legs shook slightly as you walked alongside him or how your hands didn’t leave his coat once. Not that he minded.
The redhead clasped your hands in his as he sat you down onto the leather seat before adjusting the train of your dress to ensure that it wouldn't bother you.
"How are you fairing?" Riddle asked softly, kneeling before you to slip a leather-clad hand behind your knees. He set your feet up on a plush stool and slipped your pointed heels off, gently caressing your ankles. "I overheard you earlier, griping about your feet aching. I certainly hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."
"Ah, no. I just chose the wrong heels today. They're too pointy." You sighed, poking at your crimson red heels, which were discarded to the grassy sides. Groaning, you reclined back on your throne, the billowing, fluffy skirt of the dress Riddle had recently gifted tumbling all about you.
"I see." Riddle nodded in understanding, taking your hand and pressing a quick gentlemanly kiss on your wrists. "The croquet game is up next. I suppose you'd rather stay here?"
"Yeah, I think I need some alone time," you sigh. Riddle squeezes once more your hand in reply, letting his eyes shut in contemplation.
"Very well," He hums, moving to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "Do rest here a while, rose."
There was a soft smile as the leather of his hands glide across your back. "Oh, and, please let a member of my dorm know if you ever need anything. Worry not. I've instructed everyone here to be at your beck and call."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ TREY
Passenger princess treatment<3
Every weekend, it was routine for Trey to whisk you away from your beaten-up dorm. After all, he was sure it was nice to spend the day in a place where you weren't inhaling dust and spiders every second. Both of you would always go over to his parent's café in the city for a simple little brunch date. And without fail, Trey would always pick you up at 9am sharp by the school gates.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"… I was made for lovin' you, baby
You were made for lovin' me
And I can't get enough of you, baby
Can you get enough of me?"
Soft music played from the car's radio as the third-year weaved through the barren intersections, careful and slow. It seems as if the roads were merciful to you both today, calm and free of any traffic.
Trey languidly reaches one of his hands, calloused from his years of baking, over to rest gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs soft circles and nonsensical patterns over your plump skin while the other gripped the steering wheel in a loose hold, biceps flexing as he twisted the wheel to turn the car.
Focused as he was, you didn't miss how his gaze flits back and forth between the road and you, the expression swimming within them almost akin to a distant longing.
You place your hand atop his and lean against the passenger door. A wide grin spreads over your glossy red lips as you shake your head playfully. "Keep your eyes on the road."
Mirthful laughter spills from your mouth before your eyes flutter shut as you sway along to the song, mindlessly kicking your legs around. "Crashing and going to the hospital doesn't really sound like a good date idea."
A pensive smile creeps up on Trey's face, and he lets out a low chuckle. "Yeah? I just can't help it. You're a much more interesting sight."
He watched as the sun's dazzling light bathed your image in a beautiful, pleasant glow. To him, you looked ethereal, seemingly glowing and shining under the golden streaks of sunlight that pour through the windshield.
"What did I just say?" you sighed, smiling cheekily as you smoothed a hand over his clover-colored hair, fixing the stray strands moved askew by the wind from the open windows. "Hello~? Wonderland to Trey? Eyes on the road?"
He paused for a while before chuckling, his hands splaying out on the steering wheel as he turned his gaze back front. "Right, right. I'll be careful, princess."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  DEUCE
Carries your things for you and will not let you do any heavy lifting at all plus he buys you drinks!
Screw Crowley Dire. You were sick of Ramshackle's awful, scratchy furniture. For once, you wished you could sit on something that wasn't littered with dust bunnies or looked like it came straight from the depths of the underworld—no offense to Idia. And so, using the money you had painstakingly saved over the last six months, you decided to buy a cute, frilly sofa.
Problem was—you couldn't lift it at all. It was too wide and heavy for your poor untrained arms. Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was more than happy to help ^^
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Um…Deuce? Are you sure you don't want me to work?" Perched atop the kitchen counters, you were worriedly staring down at him.
While he was preoccupied with lifting the couch, you were lazily sipping on a bubble tea—a drink which he bought for you himself. Humming, you let your gaze move from the soft line of his cheekbone, to the sharper cut of his jaw, before resting it onto the thick of his arms. " I don't mind helping, you know."
Deuce was standing by the door, arms tucked beneath the couch as he braced himself for lifting. "Yeah, I got this. Don't worry."
Now, why was he here, exactly? Well…First off, you didn't intend to call him at all.
In the middle of trying to haul your couch into Ramshackle's entrance, Deuce had appeared out of nowhere, offering his help. Despite your vehement denial, the stubborn boy wouldn't take no for an answer, and eventually forced you to sit down, shoving the bright, bubbly drink in your hand without saying a word.
So, here you were. Shamelessly ogling at him while he tried to find a way to bring the couch in.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt—Oh!" You gasped, hand flying up to cover your agape mouth when Deuce easily lifted it up as if it were made of air. In response to your expression of astonishment, he grinned and playfully flexed his arms. "See?"
While Deuce set the couch down in front of the TV, you slipped off the counters and strode over to him. Jumping into his embrace, you draped your arms around his shoulder and pressed a big kiss on his cheeks, watching in delight as his face exploded in pink. "You're so strong! Thank you so much!"
Deuce let a wobbly smile stretch across his burning cheeks, his hands slack atop your hips. "Y-Yeah! No problem."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ LEONA
Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 + Hints at passenger princess treatment
Leona Kingscholar was not a romantic. Naturally, he has stayed to himself ever since he was little. This lion was not the kind to be sentimental, gooey, or emotional. So it is astonishing how quickly this stone-cold personality of his breaks down when he's around you.
Every little thing you do drives him into a lovesick frenzy, and he has no idea how to stop it. He wasn't particularly into grand displays of affection or romantic gestures. Ergo, in an effort to express his adoration, he turns to more…costly methods.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Tell me what you want." Leona demands, tone serious as he wraps a rough yet protective arm around your hips. Both of you were standing smack dab in the middle of a large shopping mall. Though the more you stood here, the more you began to realize that this place wasn't really your…ordinary mall.
First and foremost, when Leona pulled up, there was private parking, and that was already intimidating to you in and of itself. Second, it seems like every single store in here was a luxury brand. You've seen a couple of these logos plastered onto the tags of Vil's or Jade and Floyd's clothes.
As a matter of fact, you were pretty sure their plastic bags cost more than your entire yearly allowance combined.
"Ah, um…"  A nervous sweat built up on your brow as you fished your wallet out, peering into what little funds you had. "Leona, honey—I just needed to get some school supplies…Is there a different mall we can go to?" You sheepishly smiled up at him. "I don't think I can afford to get anything here."
Silence immediately follows as Leona stares at you with a dumbfounded look. Blinking bluntly, he scoffs. "Who said you were paying?"
"Hu-Huh?" You stammered, fiddling with your wallet. The lion's eyes were ripped wide open in shock, as if the mere thought of you spending your own money on your own things was a criminal act. Something so ludicrous that even a person with his deceptive persona finds it distasteful.
"Ain't it obvious already? I'm paying," Leona huffs, dragging you to a nearby jewelry shop. Behind the glass were displays of glittering pearls and jewels, each of which had delicate and intricate carvings. "And we're gettin' more than stationary."
"But-!" You start, only to get interrupted as his calloused hand clamps over your mouth.
"No buts."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  RUGGIE
Giving you his coat when you're cold and just being sickeningly sweet<3
Ruggie was used to working for others, and this habit of his pours over to you. Though it wouldn't take long for people to notice that his acts of labor was…different with you.
For others, Ruggie works because there's an exchange, a benefit, or a payment for him. For you, however, he does things with no motive in mind. He would never ask for more because he genuinely didn't need anything more, and if he ever did, a simple kiss or hug from you would be plenty.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
It was a frigid winter day and both of you were walking to school together, a routine you both developed over the past few months. As you followed him through the deep snowfall, the cold wind nipped and bit at your skin, making you shudder. Despite the struggle, you push on, the rough pads of your boots dragging along the thick blankets of snow.
Unfortunately for you, the flimsy cardigan you bought at Sam's did nothing to keep your body safe from the cruel winter.
While Ruggie's oversized warm coat helps kept him sufficiently warmed up, you, on the other hand, are struggling. You know you should have gotten a thicker coat, but this was all you could afford last minute.
Ever so caring, your boyfriend is quick to notice this and turns back around, trudging through the snow to meet you.
"C'mere," Ruggie drags you into his embrace and starts to slowly inch the coat off his shoulders. With your form now pushed against his body, he takes the chance to press a soft kiss against your cheeks. At the exchange of affection, both of you erupt in soft giggles, lovesick grins stretched across your lips.
The moment feels intimate, loving, and safe.
"Here ya' go." Suddenly he's engulfing you in his thick cloak and zipping it up. Protesting, you try to give it back, but all he does is snicker and shake his head. He peppers warm kisses on the side of your bare frostbitten neck, relishing in the giggles that spill from your lips. "Keep it. I can handle the cold. I'm used to it but I can't have you freezin' out here, now can I?"
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  JACK
Carries you when your feet start to hurt, tee hee
Jack was strong and well-disciplined. He's worked hard and trained himself to peak physical condition, yet even then, he's continually seeking to improve himself even more. He's tried it all: fitness routines, weight lifting, and sports. And it pays off.
His strength has proven useful in a variety of circumstances. from physical education classes, sporting events, marathons, and, strangely enough, carrying you when your heels begin to hurt your feet.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Jack looks around the booths as he takes your hands in his, pulling you along the festival crowds, "Hm. I think the takoyaki stand is around here. You were craving that earlier, right?" If it weren't for the intense dull ache at the bottom of your ankles, you would have been delighted to hear about the delectable octopus snack.
Instead, you hissed and pulled on the beastman's hand, halting to a stop, unable to take the torture of your heels any longer. "Jack, hold on a second."
Groaning, you slouch down on a nearby bench and kick off your heels, scowling at the dull throb that's pressing itself against the back of your foot. Jack quickly knelt down by your side, ears alert and tail swishing.
"What's wrong?" He questions as he drags your legs over to rest on top of his firm thighs. "Do your feet hurt?"
"Yeah," you sigh. "I kinda regret putting on heels at a festival like this…I didn't realize it would hurt so bad. I just wanted to look cute."
The wolf ponders for a moment before swiftly turning around, presenting his back to you, "Get on."
"Eh?" You blinked, tilting your head to the side. Jack looks away, keeping his head tilted to the ground as a dark flush swept over his skin. "I'll carry you…I-If your feet hurt, I won't mind carrying you."
"Oh!" Smiling, you slip onto his back and wrap your arms snug around his neck. Jack clutches your heels in one hand while the other grasps onto your thigh. The beastman easily stands up, supporting both his and your weight as he heads towards the food stands.
"Who knew you were such a softie, Jack! Hehe." You tease, pressing a kiss against the side of his neck. The beastman flushed even more, avoiding your gaze at all cost.
"Tch. I-I don't go around doing this for anyone."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  AZUL
Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 #2
Azul lived to spoil you.
For you, the octo-mer gleefully buys mountains of clothing. Your entire wardrobe has been thoughtfully planned by him (and often rapidly purchased, Floyd is always the victim to his 12am shopping whims).
Other than clothing, he's also quite fond of jewelry. He clasps pure pearls to your ears, drapes diamonds over your neck, and slips rings onto your fingers. It would be the highlight of Azul's day to see the items he had purchased for you proudly displayed for all the students on campus to see.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Shall we?" he asks softly as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up from your chair. The smooth white silk of your dress cascades off the plush leather seat, draping down to your ankles. Azul swiftly guides you away from the lounge, signaling at both Floyd and Jade in the corner to clean up before turning his attention back to you, once more. "I hope the food was to your liking, angelfish?"
"Oh, it was," you confirm, a smile playing on your lips. Leaning up, you press a warm kiss against his lips, one which he returns. "Thank you for the wonderful night, Azul! The dress as well. It looks beautiful."
"Why, of course." The octo-mer hums, running his hand up your back. As he slips both of you into his room, he shuts the door with his foot and guides you to his vanity. "Though I do have one last gift."
"Another?" You chuckle, "Don't you think you spoil me too much? I don't want it to seem like I'm leeching off of you…"
"No, you could never," Azul says as he motions you to a seat near the table of his vanity. The octo-mer reaches over and opens a drawer, revealing a nice velvet box.
As the box is opened, a gorgeous sea-glass necklace with a stunning silver-coral colour is exhibited to you. It sat prettily atop a white plush pillow, winking at you. Azul deftly runs a hand up your neck to pull your hair back and your lips parts in a "o" when he clasps it on.
"Azul," you breathlessly murmur. "I can't possibly—This must have cost a fortune."
"It's for you," Azul smiles. "Only for you."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  JADE
You have scary eel privileges'
It was not uncommon for Jade to come knocking at your door in opportune times of the night to accompany you out for a walk. You mentioned once how you loved stargazing and Jade hasn't let that go since. For he too had always carried a fondness for the night, more specifically, the moon.
It was constant, a repetitive lustrous cycle, and despite his thrill seeking nature, he took comfort in its consistency. Walks with you were the highlight of his week, and he certainly does not take interruptions from pesky little bugs lightly.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
The night sky above Ramshackle was littered with painted specs of sparkling stars, burning brightly amidst the gradients of blue and black. Jade had a firm hand situated by the small of your back, gently guiding you along the dirt path of the trail.
"It's so beautiful…" You murmur in astonishment, craning your head up to peer up at the canvas of stars. Chuckling, Jade tugs you in closer to slip his large jacket over your shoulders. "I'm glad you like it, pearl. I do hope it's not too cold?"
"Not at all."
Both of you continue along your hike, going deeper and deeper into the thick, dense forest. As you trudged on, a bundle of wild mushrooms caught your eye and you halted to a stop, recognizing the patterns and spots on the fungi in a book Jade had once shown you.
"Wait here a moment. I just saw those mushrooms you wanted so bad. I'll go get it!" Before Jade could even reply, you were already off, sneaking past tall bushes and prickly trees. 
Just as you were about to pick your first mushroom, a low growl interrupts you. Freezing, your eyes dart upward to see a Savanaclaw student towering over your form. 
He did not seem happy.
"Oya? You're that Ramshackle punk, aren't you?…I have to say, Leona let you off real easy after that little spy mission you did in our dorm." He sneers, rolling the joints of his shoulders and moving closer, backing you up against a tree. "That's all good with me…Cuz' If he won't do something bout' it, then I will."
Suddenly, he was drawing his fist back, aiming for you. The sudden shift happened so quickly that all you could do was flinch and hunch over, preparing yourself for a hit.
Only for it to never come.
"My, my," a familiar voice muses. Breath hitching in your throat, you peek up and see Jade looming behind the boy. The eel's hand was coiled tight around the beastman's wrist, clasping tighter and tighter until there was a sickening snap. 
"How foolish of you to think I would allow that."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ FLOYD
You have scary eel privileges' #2
Floyd was a lot softer and caring than a lot of people would give him credit for. That or he just gives you special treatment. After all, the big bad eel found you endearing. You were his one and only beloved little shrimpy. 
You were the one who stood by him even when others dismissed him as strange or frightful because you loved and adored him wholeheartedly. So, he can't help but be protective of you.
Nothing will ever hurt you so long as he's by your side.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Shrimpy? What're you doing here?"
Sniffles and cries wreck your chest as you curled up on Floyd's bed, clutching his shrimp plush tight in your arms. Said eel was standing by the door, a look of shock plastered onto his features before it turned ice-cold as he approached your weeping form.
"My poor shrimpy…" Floyd rasps, tugging off his gloves to cup your wet cheeks with his big hands. "What's wrong with my shrimpy? Did someone do this? I'll squeeze 'em if they did."
The eel crawls into bed with you, tugging the plush out of your arms and slipping himself into your embrace. Soft warm kisses are peppered on your wet cheeks as Floyd coos at you.
Sobbing, you raise a hand to furiously wipe at your eyes before exclaiming, "It's Grim again! Why does he have to be so difficult?! I worked so hard for my alchemy exam, but it seems like he doesn't care! He's brought our grades down again!"
"It's that cat of yours again, huh?" Floyd clicked his tongue, thumb pressing against the corner of your teary eyes. He pressed a warm palm to your cheek, examining your face with close inspection as he slowly reached for your hand and set it down atop his beating heart. "No worries. Just let it all out, shrimpy. I'll have a talk with the baby seal later hehe~"
You sniffed and brushed his comments aside as you pulled away from the embrace, an action which made him pout. "…I'm not sure he'd even listen. Grim is as stubborn as a rock." 
"We'll see about that, shrimpy." Floyd scoffs, a frown on his face clearly visible as he pulls you closer once more.
"Yanno, I'm pretty good at alchemy myself." Floyd chirps, a dark grin slowly stretching across his cheeks. "I'm sure the baby seal won't mind having a private tutor session with good ol' me."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ ROOK
This man WORSHIPS the ground you walk on.
As they say, "Before you die, experience the love of a writer, poet or painter. If you're lucky enough to be an artist's muse, they will immortalize you." Such a muse you were to Rook.
Though it would take quite a lot of coaxing before he could have the pleasure of having you as his muse, at the rare moments you did agree—Rook did his utmost best to do you justice on the canvas.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Portraiture looked into the life of the subject, revealed what was hidden deep inside, and examined it. With his hunter-like manner, Rook was all too acquainted with this study.
"A-Am I doing this right?" You murmur, trying your best not to move around as you held a bouquet of daisies up to your chest. There was a cream-tinted dress draped across your body as you reclined against the backdrop Rook had set up.
"Oui. Such beauty in your gaze, trickster. Angels lurk behind your eyes." The hunter flirts, resolute gazed locked onto your flustered ones as he drags his brush against the palette. There was an experiment with the hues for a time before he blended a few other colors.
"I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to do this." As he'd found the color he wanted, Rook turned back to you. He took careful note of every nuance and detail of your glowing visage and committed as much as he could to memory. Rook knew he’d have to make your portrait perfect. He simply couldn’t allow for anything else.
"You're very persistent," you huff with a small smile on your face. "I had to cave in eventually, huh?"
"But, of course!" Rook cheekily grins, turning his attention back to the canvas. "I can't let a chance like this pass me by."
Time passed and layers upon layers of color came together to form the picture he sought after. Out to the right, spread across a lush sofa, was your incandescent form. And he surely didn't hold back on the details. The creases in the fabric, the curve of your smile, and the contours of the plush pillows scattered on either side of the plush crimson sofa all draw the eye.
It was a large painting that he had boldly placed in Pomefiore's living room, much to Vil's chagrin. Try as he might, the dormleader couldn't get the hunter to remove it at all.
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— ♰ MALLEUS
Princess treatment? pff. That's cute. No, it's queen treatment to him.
You had a bad tendency of rambling on about whatever that came to mind, often without realising that another person was in the same room as you. Even if you initially didn't mind this little quirk of yours, recent events have made you realise that you should probably curb your mouth-running.
Even more so considering that your partner, caring as he was, had a tendency to be quite…impulsive. Especially when it comes to matters concerning your comfort and well-being.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Malleus was flipping through a catalogue of colour samples and scrutinizing each texture with careful judgment. Slipping the page into your hands, he murmurs, "This is all rather lovely. Perhaps a dark crimson will suffice. Or would you like this wine red dye, my dear?" The dragon looked at you, patiently awaiting your response.
Only for there to be none.
You stood awkwardly at his side, your cheeks flaming up with shame. Tugging at his coat, you rose up on your tiptoes and whispered quietly, "Tsunotaro…when I whined about it being cold, I didn't mean for you to go this far."
"Oh?" He quirks a brow up, "Do you not like these colors?"
"Mal," you utter gently, handing the catalogue back to him. "I don't really think we need to—"
"Young Master. If I may," Sebek interrupts, voice raising to a strained high squeak, "Please do tell. Why are we replacing every.single marble floor in the dorm…with carpet?"
Malleus draws you in his arms, all while ignoring the enraged stare painted on Sebek's face. "My darling's feet become frigid cold when they walk along the marble flooring. I think it's due time for it to get redone," he says while running his hands tenderly up your back and gazing at you with a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Sebek blinks, a strained smile sneaking up on his cheeks, "Well. I'm sure they can use slippers—"
"Nonsense." Malleus snarls, eyes flashing a luminous green. "How dare you even think of subjecting them to such a ludicrous act. Hmph. Using…slippers—How preposterous." 
"No. I think my way is much better." Shaking his head, Malleus turns back to the catalogue—paying no mind to the grief-stricken look on his retainer's face. "Now dearest, do you think burgundy would look good in the kitchen?"
───────────────────── · ·
—♰ SEBEK
Carries your sparkly pink purses for you, slay king<3
Sebek was not a fool. The fae was well aware he could be a bit…much at times. And even if he doesn't express it, he really values your nearly infinite patience with him. 
The boy was awkward at affection, and this is especially highlighted when it comes to anything involving romantic gestures. Even though your snappy crocodile was hard-headed and stubborn at times, he still showed you how much he cared in his own little ways. Even if it were something as simple as carrying your sparkly pink bag around the campus.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"You ought to have known better than to jest so lightly about Diasomnia that way!" Sebek barks out, a leather-clad finger digging deep into Ace's chest. However, as opposed to being upset as Sebek had anticipated, the ginger chortles, muffled giggles sneaking past his clamped up lips.
"Sebek, buddy." Ace wheezes out, shoulders shaking from the strain of his suppressed laughter. "It's kinda hard to take you seriously…wh-when you have that."
The Heartslabyul runt gestures towards your designer purse, which was snugly resting against Sebek's bicep, slung over his shoulder. 
It was quite the eye-catcher. The sparkling pink diamonds of its handle twinkled a bright brilliant white, so bright in fact that it was almost blinding. 
Epel takes notice of the logo and crocodile keychain attached to it and he perks up.
"Oh, it's one of those girly-lookin' designer bags Vil is always yappin' about," Epel points out, squinting his eyes to get a better look at it. "Ain't that the prefect's bag?"
Unfazed by Ace's mocking, Sebek scoffs arrogantly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Indeed, it is. As a knight-in-training, it is only right for me to possess the quality of a gentleman. Chivalrous acts like this are nothing to be ashamed of." He abruptly snapped his head over to glower at Ace, who was sitting rather comfortably in the cafeteria bench, crossing one leg over the over as he met Sebek's irritated stare. "Not that I anticipate someone like you to ever have experience with it.."
Sebek then rose from the table and strode boldly in the direction of your classroom, the pink bag swinging with each heavy step he took. Epel was leaning over the table, placing a shaky hand on Ace's shoulder as loud laughter racked through his body.
"Darn' right," Epel cackles, wiping the tears away from his eyes before turning to the ginger. "Nice ta' see someone still has sum chivalry…Unlike you, Ace."
The ginger visibly deflates, rolling his eyes as he mutters, "Yeah, yeah. We get it. He's down bad."
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palioom · 4 months
Text
little dove
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summary: your first attendance of a huge feast is bothersome, alone and inexperienced as you are. until the eyes of a certain prince won't stop following you.
pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader
word count: 4.5k
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; virginity/innocence kink; implied age gap (oberyn is in his early 40s, reader early 20s); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some biting
a/n: another fic from last summer, hope you enjoy! ; headers & dividers by @/saradika-graphics
follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates
• masterlist •
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Oberyn had been watching her all night already, his dark eyes following the shape of her wherever she went. Between the bustle of the people, her bright orange glowing dress like the sun, rising and settling as she appeared and disappeared, standing around like she didn’t know what to do with herself.
It was adorable, a smirk gracing his features as he watched her wring her hands, smiling sheepishly when someone approached her. 
So innocent.
He could see the nervousness on her face from where he sat, the uncertainty, clearly not used to people approaching her.
He could see the heavy rise and fall of her chest, exposed by the deep cut of her garments.
Taking another sip of his wine, Oberyn stood, deciding now was his time.
The festivities had been going on for a while, and even though he had planned on celebrating with a group of people in his bedchambers later, she had thrown those plans into the wind the second he set sight on her.
Something just intrigued him, maybe it was the innocence she seemed to harbour, maybe it was her beauty.
Whatever it was, he had to know more, waiving away another woman that approached him with a polite smile, then walking over to the mysterious woman.
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She looked around nervously, playing with the rings on her hands as people passed by her, some stopping to talk to her.
Feeling incredibly out of place at this feast, her first big one, she didn't quite know what to do. Her parents were somewhere, as were her siblings.
The lords trying to speak to her made her feel uneasy, knowing she was supposed to find a possible suitor at some point, but wanting nothing more than to flee this place.
In fact, she was thinking about just leaving, when she was approached again.
Tall, dark haired and handsome. The Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell.
She had seen him at his table, stealing a glance every once in a while and looking away when his dark eyes caught hers.
And now he stood in front of her, flashing her a wide smile.
“My Prince.” She said, curtsying as well as she could, perhaps a little clumsily. 
Out of everything she had expected to happen today, she did not expect for him to approach her.
“Do you intend to sulk in the shadows all night, my dove?”
She blinked up at him, once again playing with the rings on her fingers.
“I have not been sulking.” A frown graced her face, a slight tremble in her voice. His presence was intimidating, but different from the other people who had approached her. “I have been observing.”
Oberyn chuckled, taking a small step closer to her, watching her step back just a little in return. So close to her, he could practically feel the nervosity radiating off of her, trying to hold eye contact before they moved away again, looking at anything but him.
“Observing by turning down all lords and ladies who approach you?” He said, watching her fingers stop for just a moment, as if she had been caught, before fiddling with her rings again. “I must admit, I have been watching you for a while - you are the only lady not dancing, not talking to anyone. Just standing in your corner, sometimes moving to follow the servants for a drink or something to eat.”
She stayed quiet. Had she been that noticeable? Just by standing around, hoping for a saving grace?
“I assume this to be your first attendance at a feast this big, am I correct, my dove?”
That nickname.
It made her feel warm, a different kind of warmth than the Dornish weather. Running through her in an unfamiliar fashion, her veins like molten metal, a strange feeling moving up her spine..
“Yes, my Prince.” She said, nodding, but not looking at him.
Oberyn noticed how she became more nervous, smirking at the display in front of him.
“My parents have kept me from them for long, I was only ever allowed to attend small ones.” She continued, sighing. “It is quite overwhelming. I am inexperienced in these kinds of things.”
Her words made him inhale sharply through his nose, still smiling.
If she was inexperienced in this, what else was she inexperienced in?
He had wanted her before, but now the desire for her burned even brighter. Oberyn wanted to show her the things her parents have undoubtedly sheltered her from.
To keep their daughter pure for a potential suitor.
“I understand, my dove. Would you perhaps allow me to accompany you to a place more quiet?”
Usually, he did not beat around the bush when it came to a potential partner for the night.
But it was different with her. If he was blunt he would simply chase her away.
She didn’t look at him, thinking about his question.
All the other men and women that had asked before had made her feel uneasy. Unsure why they wanted to whisk her away, promising a better night someplace else.
But the Prince of Dorne? He made her feel different. A heat and a pressure in her abdomen that she never felt before.
She knew of the rumours, that he took many partners, for whatever they did. Yet, as he stood in front of her, charming smile and good looks, she felt herself drawn to him.
Oberyn reached out, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “I asked you a question, my dove.”
His fingers on her chin made her still, just looking up at him with her big eyes, lips slightly parted. The touch made that pressure worse, breath hitching in her throat.
“My Prince, I’m-” She stumbled over her words, unsure what to answer.
He just chuckled, a sigh leaving him. “You are quite easily flustered, my dove. Come with me, please.”
Holding out his arm for her to take, he hoped she would. Such an innocent, pretty thing. There was something so endearing about the way she was behaving.
She swallowed hard, looking from his face to his arm, hesitating for a moment. Something drew her to him, and after another moment, she hooked her arm into his with a nervous smile.
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Oberyn walked her away from the feast, the noises dying down behind them as they walked the long corridors.
“What did the other lords and ladies ask of you, my dove?” 
She sighed, glad to be away from the bustle in the halls, but feeling uncertain now, a throbbing at the apex of her thighs distracting her.
“They wished to take me away for some fun. I’m unsure what they meant exactly.” She didn’t look at him, too nervous to meet his dark, piercing eyes. 
It was intimidating, she had never been in the presence of a man other than her father or her brothers alone. She knew how to behave, for the most part, but nonetheless was it a little scary.
Oberyn smirked, looking down to her, seeing how she only stared at the floor or ahead of them. 
“You did not know what they were implying?” He asked, a bit amused but genuinely curious. “My little dove, you must be younger than I thought or your parents simply were too careless with your education.”
She remained quiet, her cheeks growing hot. 
A sense of shame washed over her, that he thought she was too young. It was as if her friends were with her, giggling and whispering because of something she didn’t understand.
And when she asked, they never explained, finding it too amusing to laugh and belittle her.
There was something she was missing out on, and she hated not knowing what.
“My dove, you do not have to be ashamed.” He said, his other hand coming to gently rest on hers. “If you wish, I could show you.”
He had been right about the assumptions of her being a virgin, too innocent for her own good.
Walking next to her, he felt something else besides the desire for her, a need to protect.
As if he was the only one allowed to show her, that anyone else would simply take advantage of this fact.
Now her eyes met his, brows furrowed. 
“Show me?” She echoed his words. “How? What exactly?”
Oberyn just smiled, eyes leaving hers to look at the guards standing by the door of his chambers.
He stopped, not too far away from the door, looking back at her.
“Do you wish for me to show you, my dove?” He asked, brushing back a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “If not, I understand.”
She should be wary. Despite him being the Prince of Dorne, she should think about this. But she was curious, so curious about what this thing was that she had been missing out on.
And there was still that feeling inside of her.
“Yes, my Prince.” She said with a small nod. “I am curious, please.”
He chuckled, his knuckles brushing over her cheek. “Please, call me Oberyn, my dove.”
Moving along, the guards allowed them to enter, the heavy door falling shut behind them. Oberyn let go of her arm, walking over to a table to pour himself some wine, then offering her a cup.
She took it with a small nod, taking in his quarters. They were richly decorated, the bed massive.
Just how she would imagine it, if she had ever spent time on that before meeting him.
Taking a sip of her wine, Oberyn laid a hand on her waist with a gentle smile, pulling her closer to him.
“Most people stare when they first come here.” He said, his hand wandering up and down her side. “Don’t be nervous, little dove.”
She nodded, swallowing hard. That was easier said than done, the heat inside her becoming unbearable at this point.
His hand on her side felt like it was burning her, even through the thin fabric of her gown. Like it was hot coals placed on her.
“Have you ever been kissed, my dove?” He asked suddenly, eyes searching hers. Pulling her just a little closer to him.
She shook her head no, slowly. Heart beating in her throat, he was so close to her. 
She could feel the warmth of him, twirling the cup of wine in her hand.
“Would you allow me to?”
There was some hesitation inside her, her hands stilling. Should she allow him to? She wanted to, somehow.
Often had she imagined what it felt like, kissing someone.
Her answer came in the form of a nod, her head barely moving.
Oberyn smiled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.
“Oh, my little dove.”
Despite his growing desire, he moved gently, bending down to place his lips onto hers. The small gasp that left her made him chuckle, his other hand coming to rest on her hip and pull her hips flush against his.
She stiffened beneath his touch, liking the way his lips felt on hers, surprisingly soft, while his beard and moustache tickled her skin. Holding onto her cup tightly, she closed her eyes, humming when he deepened the kiss and she tried to match his movements, clumsy and inexperienced.
When he parted from her, she chased after him, opening her eyes when she couldn’t. Oberyn laughed at that, staying close to her, his thumb brushing over her cheek.
She looked adorable, the way she greedily breathed in air, lips slightly parted. Still too nervous, too stiff.
“What do you think, my dove?” He asked, leaning closer again so their noses were almost touching. “Would you like for me to show you more? There is quite an array of things I could assist you with.”
His fingers curled into her hip, and when she nodded, he only smiled wider.
“I promise to be gentle, my dove. A beauty such as you needs to be handled with care.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but it didn’t matter, because as soon as he kissed her again, more eager this time, her mind went blank.
His hand briefly left her hip to take the cup from her hands, placing it on the table next to them, before it was back, pulling her against his chest and making her gasp.
Letting his tongue glide against hers at the opportunity, Oberyn heard her muffled moan, relishing in the sweet sound.
The way she tried to kiss him back was delightful, so tender and new, trying to keep up with him.
Slowly he manoeuvred her back towards the bed, having to hold onto her waist as her steps became unsure, stumbling backwards once, her cheeks glowing even hotter.
The throbbing only became more intense, and when they reached the bed and he gently pushed her to sit at the foot of it, she squeezed her thighs together, looking for relief.
There was a wetness now that felt foreign to her.
Oberyn noticed, amused at the display.
“Are you aching, my dove?” He asked, his hands coming to the belt tied around his waist.
Aching.
It did hurt, but in a different way. Not like a bruise or a cut.
She nodded. “A little. My Prince- Oberyn, what- I don’t understand what is happening.”
Poor thing. Her parents had done a horrible job to prepare their daughter.
To leave her in the dark at such an age.
She watched him undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor before motioning for her to move further back to the middle of the bed.
“You’re aroused, my dove. You feel the need for cock.” He explained, shedding his robe, then crawling over her. “Have you seen a cock before, little dove?”
Her mouth went dry as she watched him undress, now only clad in a dark orange tunic and his breeches. 
Aroused.
Of course. But was she really aroused by him? In need of his cock?
She nodded, and she could see a flash of surprise grace his features. 
“In the bathhouses, yes.” She tried to hold his gaze, now hovering over her and letting his hand glide down her side. “From afar.”
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, then her neck, hearing the breathy moan spill from her lips, feeling her back arch slightly.
“In the bathhouses…” He repeated in a whisper, still some amusement in his voice. “Yet you don’t know a thing about this… about desire and fucking.”
The word felt vulgar, so close to her ear.
And she felt embarrassed again. That she didn’t know more, that she didn’t understand she was aroused just by him being near her, by him kissing her, by him hovering over her.
“Do you want me to show you, my dove? The thrill of desire?” He asked, still mouthing along her neck, gently, just feeling her as she squirmed, her own hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “How to fuck?”
Her breath hitched in her throat when he sucked at the junction of her neck and shoulder, a throaty moan leaving her.
“I- I do not know, Oberyn.” She stammered, fingers digging into his shoulders. The throbbing and the pressure were distracting her, just needing relief. “It hurts, it really hurts.”
His hand moved lower, down her side and to her thigh, gathering her skirts before it dipped below them.
“I can help you, my dove.” His hand wandered between her thighs, finding her dripping already, a soft sound escaping him at the feeling. “Oh, my dove. Wet and gushing like a waterfall and I have barely touched you.”
He sounded pitying almost, his fingers slipping between her folds, raising his head to watch her face when he found her clit.
A hiss left her, looking at him with wide eyes at the foreign feeling. It felt good, strange but good.
“Have you never touched yourself before? Brought yourself to the peak of pleasure?” He asked, drawing slow circles into her clit, with featherlight touches. 
She shook her head, trying to keep her eyes open, her legs opening further.
“Never, I didn’t know-”
“You poor thing.” He cooed, kissing her. 
When his fingers left her again, she whined in protest, one of her hands reaching out to grab his wrist. 
She didn’t even really know what was happening, simply that his touch felt good and that she wanted more.
Needed more.
The burning sensation inside her was so consuming and overwhelming while also hurting her.
“Oberyn, please, continue.” She said, guiding his hand back down but he escaped her grasp. 
“Do you know anything about this, my dove? About fucking, the feeling of something stretching you open? Feeling somebody’s naked skin against yours?”
Stretching her open? It sounded painful, she couldn’t imagine how anything could do that, and where.
But she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to embarrass herself further.
She shook her head again. “No, I don’t.”
He chuckled, his hand coming up to tug one of the straps of her gown down her shoulder, then further down her arm, exposing her breast.
“My little dove, so innocent, so pure.” A sigh left him, watching her face as he touched her breast, just lightly brushing over the hardened nipple. Nothing could have prepared him for just how much her innocence spurred him on. “I will take care of you, just allow me to do so.”
“Please, please, Oberyn.” She whined, desperate. His hand felt good on her, back arching off the bed and into his touch, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes.
This was what she had missed out on, something so good and intense. If only he could touch her again.
Slowly Oberyn undressed her, slipping the garment down her body and kissing each inch of newly uncovered skin. Taking in how she whined and moaned, took in a sharp breath or hissed at the sensation.
She felt exposed, once he sat back and pulled the gown down her legs, his dark eyes raking over her naked form as she laid before him, resisting the urge to cover herself.
So sweet and pure. And he would be the one to ruin her, to taint her beautiful body.
Thank the Gods it was him and not someone else.
“So pretty.” He said, a hand gliding up and down her thigh, the other working open his tunic. “My little dove, all for me to enjoy. I shall show you the heights of pleasure.”
She watched as he shed the garment, exposing his toned torso, the muscles under his skin moving. She was mesmerized, despite having seen this so many times at the bathhouses, when she came to find her siblings or her parents.
His hands moved down to his breeches, opening them just as slowly as he had done with the rest of his clothing.
“It seems as if my little dove has found something she likes.” He chuckled, shedding the last piece of clothing, kneeling between her spread legs, just as exposed as she was.
Cock heavy and throbbing, her eyes were fixed on it.
It was bigger than what she had seen before. But she didn’t know if she should mind that.
“Don’t be scared, my dove.” Oberyn said, moving to hover over her again, one hand on her thigh, his cock brushing against her stomach. “I’ll prepare you to take me.”
“Take me?” She asked, gasping when his hand found that sweet spot again, applying more pressure this time and leaving her breathless.
He hummed against her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin, taking in her sweet sounds.
So adorable, needing to be taught. Not knowing what pleasures awaited her.
His hand moved lower and he felt how she stiffened when one finger pressed against her hole.
“Don’t be scared…” He repeated, slowly pushing a single digit in, groaning when he felt her squeeze around him, her nails digging into his shoulders with a whine.
It felt strange, his thick finger inside of her, moving in and out slowly. Yet it also felt good, her hips rolling on their own, legs opening wider.
“Oberyn-” She moaned, voice breaking, the pressure inside her easing just a little. 
His mouth found hers again, continuing to move his finger slowly, his cock twitching at the thought of burying himself inside her soon.
“Tell me how it feels, little dove. You might be ready for another finger soon.”
She whined, concentrating on the foreign feeling, the stretch when he pushed a second finger in.
“It feels good, my Prince- Oberyn.” She breathed, her mind feeling as if it was floating on a cloud, hissing when he scissored his fingers inside of her. “It hurts a little, but it feels good.”
He chuckled, kissing her cheek and down to her jaw, then down her neck again.
“My dove, you feel splendid, gripping my fingers so tight with your sweet cunt.”
Something inside her built, blood hot like molten metal as it rushed through her, building her higher and higher until he took his fingers from her again.
A noise of protest died in her throat, his teeth softly sinking into her shoulder.
He grinned at that, lifting his head to look at her, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a deep hum.
“Finer than any wine.” Oberyn said, positioning himself so his cock was lined up with her. “My dove, I promise to be gentle. It may sting nonetheless.”
She nodded, drowsy and wanting nothing more than this ache to end. He said his cock would help, and so she wished for nothing more than him to enter her where his fingers just had been.
“Please, help me relieve this ache.” She said, feeling him against her, so much thicker than his fingers.
Oberyn watched as he entered her, grunting at how tight she still was, seeing her eyes squeeze shut and take a sharp breath.
It stung, he hadn’t lied about that, his lips finding hers as he pushed in further, muffling her whimpers while he buried inch after inch inside of her.
All the way until he was fully sheathed inside of her, hips flush against hers, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing it gently.
“It hurts, Oberyn.” She breathed when he broke from her, looking back at him, his lips on her cheek again.
“I know, my dove. You will feel better soon, don’t you worry.”
It was so new, the sensation of being filled, of him inside of her and stretching her out just as he had said.
Overwhelming, someone being so close to her, inside of her, his hot skin against hers, his soft lips on her cheeks.
The pain slowly fading into a need, the throbbing returning, as did the pressure.
Her hips moving on their own, making him chuckle, the sound vibrating against her chest. 
“Are you sure you wish to continue already, my dove?” He asked, kissing a spot just below her ear that sent a shiver through her. “I cannot stop myself if we do, your cunt is simply too tight and inviting.”
She nodded, whispering a silent please.
So he slowly pulled back, setting a lazy rhythm of shallow thrusts, her dragged out moans like music to his ears, a little symphony written just for him as he drove back into her over and over again.
“You feel perfect, my dove, what an honour to teach you about the pleasures of the flesh.” Oberyn groaned, his hands grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his hips, making her whimper loudly. “You won’t find a nicer cunt than that of this little virgin dove.”
She let him move, rolling her hips, trying to meet his thrusts, that something inside her building again, becoming stronger this time.
If this really was what she had been missing out on, what she had been ridiculed for, she never wanted it to stop now that she had it.
The feeling pleasant as the ache became less and less present.
Oberyn had to hold back to not just drive into her with his entire force, losing himself in how good she felt, but still wanting this to be something good for her, as much as he desired her.
Already knowing he would seek her out again and again, her innocence far from gone, her sounds so sweet in his ears, her hands so soft as they grabbed at him, trying to find purchase on his body.
“My dove, you are close, I can feel you.” He rasped, his movements becoming sloppier, lips dancing over her skin. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“Close to what?” She asked, words catching on her breath, feeling something but unsure if it was what he meant.
Gods, she was so adorable.
“Oh, you will see, my dove.”
His hand moved between them, finding her clit.
And with just a few movements, something snapped inside of her so suddenly and with such force that all breath left her, a strangled noise catching in her chest as her veins burned, the pressure in her abdomen released. 
She was trembling, holding him against her tightly as he kept moving, thrusts harsher now.
“There you are, my little dove, isn’t that wonderful? The heights, the peak?”
It was a pretty sight, her face contorted in bliss and pleasure but also so shocked by what was happening to her, by these new feelings.
She could only whine, falling silent when she heard him grunt deeply into her ear, stilling above her.
Spilling himself deep inside of her before rolling off of her, not separating but rolling her with him so she came to rest on top of him.
She felt exhausted suddenly, the euphoric feelings still coursing through her veins.
And he felt solid beneath her body, catching his breath just as she did, his hands carding through her hair.
“Now, my dove, how do you feel?” He asked, watching her face as she rested on him. “Are you satisfied?”
If anyone had told her just a few hours ago that she would land in the bed of the Prince of Dorne, she would have laughed at them.
But now, it seemed quite nice.
She nodded. “I feel exhausted, but I am very grateful for what you showed me.”
A smile stretched her lips wide, he liked it. She seemed to be less nervous.
He chuckled, one hand wandering down to smooth over her back. Normally he would be far from done, already planning another round of pleasure.
But she truly seemed too exhausted by this. After all, she hadn’t even known about any of this until now.
Her eyes drifted shut, but she was still awake, listening to his heartbeat.
“Oh, my dove.” He said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “There is so much more to show you, I am far from done with you.”
She felt warm at the idea, curious what else there was to discover. Her eyes felt too heavy to open them again, slowly drifting off into sleep on top of him.
Oberyn simply smiled, sighing deeply.
Yes, he was far from done. 
There was so much to learn, so much to discover.
And he couldn’t wait to see her face once he began to truly teach his little dove.
2K notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 3 months
Note
Can you do a long fic where bakugou has a baby brother like maybe 2 years old?
Title: sibling bonding
Fandom:my hero Academia
Warnings: male reader, baby reader, fluff, big brother Bakugo, soft Bakugo
Notes: I can't promise a long fic as my fic lengths are based off of how much steam I have but ill write what I can
☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️
Bakugo was happy to have the house mostly alone, his parents in Milan for two weeks he had off for a fashion show.
Why was he mostly alone?
Well they couldn't take his little brother, the two year old didn't do planes well and it was just easier to find a sitter or let him stay with someone for the time, usually their aunty. "Uh-oh" (name) said as he dropped his sippy cup carefully lifting it back up before wandering to his brother "ka!" He said happily as he climbed onto the couch "what squirt?" Katsuki said to the young tot who looked at his phone "what do?" He asked as Katsuki got notifications from discord "I'm texting a few friends, they're coming to visit later for a movie" he was always so soft with his brother, sure he was loud as the rest of his family but his baby brother took more after their dad so he always tried to be gentle.
"Oovee?" He asked curiously and Katsuki nodded "yeah a movie, we gotta get some snacks for you and me before it" he said to the boy who smiled "cake!" "No cake but we can get you a cake pop when we get our walk home drink" Katsuki knew how to compromise with the boy who clapped his hands excitedly.
Katsuki helped (name) put on his shoes before putting him on his shoulders, it was easier to do than hold his hands and (name) got to have fun.
The two went to the convenience store as (name) pointed to various snacks, Katsuki having to hinder the boy with the fact he wanted /everything/ the store had to offer but did compromise with some ice cream and little treats for after dinner and such.
"Cake!" (Name) was absolutely thrilled when Katsuki handed him a cake pop, the teen holding the snacks with one hand and had (name) on his hip as they walked home, (name) eating his treat contently, the boy taking a sip from their drink occasionally.
(Name) loved helping his brother, the tot getting to help put things together for the hang out "you get to watch a movie then it's bath time alright?" Katsuki said to his brother who did a little dance before running off to go play with his toys 'weird kid' Katsuki thought fondly as he finished prep.
"YOOOO BAKUBRO!" Kirishima said as he and a few other classmates entered the Bakugo house, Kaminari whistling at how nice it was inside "whose ready to paaaarty!" Mina said as her, ochaco and Momo came inside with snacks "let's watch some scary...shoopuff" mina halted when she saw the two year old in Katsukis arms, little (name) looking curious but recognized Kirishima from a few visits "little man!" Kirishima ran and grabbed the boy and lifted him "what's up!"
"Hiiii!"
"Whose the kid?" Kaminari asked as (name) spoke nonsense to Kirishima but it was probably his day if any context about "walk" and "cake pop" were to go off of "that's my brother" Katsuki said gruffly, a slight glare on his face as his friends looked at the babe curiously.
During the movie, the teens would notice Bakugo would be soft with the boy even when he scolded him "oi, leave that alone" "but you're smelly!" (Name) argued back, holding a book in his hands "put it down and park your ass and watch the movie or its night time" Bakugo said to his brother who huffed but complied "you're not my favorite brother anymore!"
"Ah? And who is?"
"Dad!"
The movie went on well, the group putting on a hero movie and before they knew it, it was (name)s bath time "bubububbub!" (Name) was pleased with the bubbles as he played with his toys, his older brother working around him to wash him "head back" the teen said gruffly as he put a visor on the boys forehead and rinced out the shampoo before repeating it with the conditioner "kaa! Ducky!" The boy squirted some water at his brother who rolled his eyes "wanna see something cool?" He asked his little brother who looked curious "ya!'
Katsuki put his hand in the water and activated his quirk, just enough to give a jacuzzi affect "whoa!" The boy said excitedly as Katsuki pulled his hand out "now, out ya go!"
"Nooo!"
"None of that! Come on, let's brush your fucking teeth and get you to bed brat"
(Name) cuddled into his brothers shoulder as he wore his fuzzy pajamas, the other teens waving him goodnight as Katsuki brought him to his bedroom and tucked him into bed "hah? What's this?" Katsuki held up a small handmade plush of him in his hero suit "Die'ite!" (Name) grabbed the plush and Katsuki felt a small smile creep on his face as his little brother hugged the toy "he a hero you like?"
"He's the bestest!"
1K notes · View notes
mingigoo · 4 months
Text
chocolate || Choi San (m.)
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❆ pairing ⇢ (fem) reader x brother’s best friend! Choi San
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❆ summary ⇢ you never got along with your brother’s best friend San, but you really never needed to. His pretty face and cocky attitude pissed you right off. But when he shows up on New Year’s Eve when you’re home alone, and a snowstorm forces you to stay together for the time being, you can’t help yourself from his enchanting charms—and sexy ass body.
❆ genre/au ⇢ smut, forced proximity, brothers best friend au, snowed in au
❆ warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, fingering, shower sex, oral sex (male receiving), slightly rough but really not too much, creampie, unprotected sex, the power goes out and they want to fuck each ther so bad I’m sorry
❆ word count ⇢ 5.2k
❆ taglist ⇢  @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)
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The snow crunched under your feet as you walked up to your parents' home.
Christmas had just passed—although both your mom and dad were out of the area, having the time of their lives in the warmth of another country. You envied them, but you were happy to be back in town after a rough breakup and a messy semester.
When you walked in the door with a bag of groceries and now covering your eyelashes, your little brother Wooyoung sat on the couch in the living room, star-shaped shades on his face and a shiny jacket over his bare chest.
“What….why are you dressed like that?” you inquired, shoving your snowy shoes off your feet.
He stared at you blankly. “Are you stupid?”
You scoffed, walking past him to put the bag of groceries away—groceries that were solely for baking cookies. A perfect way to spend the night.
He stood up and followed you in. “Y/n, it’s New Year's Eve. How else should I be dressed?”
You forgot about it. All of it. It already pained you that you were alone this new Year after spending four of them with the same man.
You shoved the bag of flour into the cabinet aggressively. “I don't know, not like a disco ball? That jacket is gonna get puked on and ruined.”
He looked over at you, noticing your distaste. “Are you…..is Soobin, you know, coming in for the holiday? He already missed Christmas.”
Soobin decided to dump you for reasons unknown. You believed it was because he was chasing his dream of becoming an idol, and he couldn't have a bunch of sexy baggage like you, so you let him lose you. 
But if that wasn't the case and he broke up for you for the hell of it, you would strangle that stupid hot boy and let him pay for his crime of losing the best he’s ever had.
Anyway…
“Oh, we broke up,” you shoved the stuff around in the cabinet, hoping to distract your brother from the horrible news. You didn't tell him the whole time you've been home. You've been avoiding it—it was already embarrassing to be dumped, more so around Christmas.
It did not, in fact, distract him.
“Holy fuck, really?” he leaned forward, intrigued. “Why? What did he do?”
“Oh, you know,” you bit the corner of your lip, trying not to look like you were lying straight through your teeth. “He’s chasing his dream. I broke up with him so he didn't have to struggle with the girlfriend baggage and all. He was so heartbroken….”
Woo blinked. 
“Oh, girl,” he offered a sincere smile. Well, as sincere as wooyoung could possibly get. “He dumped your ass, didn't he?”
You stared at him for a second. You couldn't get past him—he’s seen breakups way too many times with San by his side.
“Yep.”
You stood there in silence for a minute or two, trying your best not to reminisce on your relationship—even though you were over him. It wasn't even about Soobin; rather, it was the aching feeling of being someone’s number two. A career, an understandable priority, still felt like a slap in the face to you, as you were less important in his eyes. You can joke with yourself and others all you want—but you crave that feeling of being someone’s pride and joy. Someone’s only thought when the world is about to end.
“Welp,” Woo sighed, not knowing what to say. “I have to head out soon. I’m meeting up with San and Yeosang to head to the party.”
You sighed, leaning against the counter behind you. “Have fun.”
He pondered for a second, sticking his tongue into the inside of his cheek. “Wanna come with us?” he asked.
You shook your head, already not feeling like doing anything—especially anything involving…..San. “No, no, you go have fun,” you smiled at him as best as you could.
He nodded, but gave you a look of worry before he left the kitchen.
You followed him like a lost puppy as he tossed his shoes on in the doorway, struggling to bring his chucks over his heel—his frat shoes, as he likes to express. The shoes he doesn't mind puking on. You watched in enjoyment as he wrestled his shoes.
“I’ll be back later,” he ruffled your hair tenderly, but the grimace on his face felt like he wanted to tackle you—in a playful way, of course.
“Be safe—”
He shut the door with a smirk before you finished your sentence.
“A sudden storm will be rising upon us within the next hour or so, with wind gusts up to……”
You could hardly hear the TV from the kitchen as you blasted Christmas music, flour on every square inch of you. You were baking—your favorite hobby. It’s been a while since you were able to bake carefree, and now that you had an unlimited amount of free time, you were going to bake as much as you missed out on. 
As you shoved in another pan of cookies into the oven, you heard the door open and shut loudly, so loud that you were able to hear it over your music.
“Wooyoung, what the hell?” you grumbled, your back turned from the doorway as you fixed up the already baked cookies to cool. “Can you slam that shit any louder? And aren't you supposed to be at a party?”
Silence. No response. 
“I said, aren't you supposed to be—”
And when you turned around, it was most definitely not wooyoung in the kitchen doorway.
You dropped a cookie onto the floor. 
“Well,” San smirked, his grey hood covering his dark hair, his lips curled sexily, and his eyebrows raised. “Aren't you a beauty?”
You stood there in a flour-covered apron, flour-covered hair, face, and everything in between, looking at the man across the kitchen table.
“San,” you breathed, brushing your hands off on your apron and bending down quickly to pick up the dropped cookie. “What are you doing here? Wooyoung told me he was meeting up with you.”
“To see you, of course,” He purred, taking a step closer to you. He walked around the table to get to where you were standing, and not surprisingly, he lifted a finger to the corner of your lips and then continued to taste it on his own. 
You shivered in what you wished was disgust.
His eyes lit up as he tasted it, licking his lips. “Mmm. Chocolate?” he hummed, leaning against the counter next to you. He pulled down his hood to reveal his messy, silky black hair. “You've always been such a great baker.”
“You scoffed, turning back to the stove to check on your cooling cookies. “Why are you here?”
“You just asked me that.”
“Yeah, but you didn't answer correctly.”
“I’m here to see you, baby,” he leaned forward. 
You leaned back.
“Ha!” you laughed sarcastically, picking up your spatula to wield it like a weapon in his direction. When you met his gaze, you felt your stomach drop from his pretty smile and his sickening gaze. “Wooyoung isn't here, alright? So you better leave, or I will kick you out—”
“I’ll just wait here for him until he gets back.” San shrugged, stealing a cookie before running away from the kitchen.
You followed him into the living room, tracking your flouriness all over the place. “Can't you just go home? I don't understand why—”
He was standing in front of the TV as your voice trailed off. Apparently, there was a huge storm that no one saw coming. San watched intently as he snacked happily on the cookie as if finding out that there was a blizzard outside was the best news he’d ever heard.
“A blizzard?” you freaked out, running up to the screen right next to him. After watching for a few moments, you went to the window, looking out to see the roads completely covered and the wind blowing a dusting of white all over the place.
“Oh….I didn't see that coming,” San’s irritatingly attractive voice spoke from right behind you, and when you turned around, he stood with a sinister smile on his face.
“You should go, for real,” you sighed, looking up into his eyes before moving your gaze anxiously. “Before you can't.” 
He peered over your shoulder, letting out a puff of air. “I don't think I can drive back on the roads like this….” he sighed, tilting his head at you. “It's too dangerous.”
You blinked, trying your hardest not to cave into those lustrous cat-like eyes. He blinked at you now, his expression unreadable.
It's been ages since you saw this man—ages, and he still treats you as if you were best buddies all your life. In reality, you've never once liked the guy. His hair pissed you off, his crooked smile boiled your blood, and god, his ears? Why were they so cute? How can ears be cute? Don't get yourself started on his lips…..lips that you….may have kissed once or twice all those years ago.
He never talked about it, so you just ignored it.
And now that you were thinking about his lips, your eyes dropped down to them, and when you realized, you cleared your throat and brought your gaze back up to his eyes.
“If you stay, you have to act like you're not here,” you breathed, crossing your arms over your messy apron. He looked down—down at your cleavage and smirked. “Eyes up here, mister.”
He hesitated to move his gaze, and when he did, your stomach flipped once more—god, maybe you just needed to get laid. It's been ages since you had a good fuck….
No. what were you thinking? No. no, no. Stop it.
You took a second to gain your thoughts before speaking again. “Just… don't do anything until wooyoung gets here.”
He stood close to you, looking down with those seductive eyes, his smile blindingly attractive. He didn't even need to speak to make your knees weak—which was probably why you hated him so much.
He bent his head to get closer to you, that smile still on his face. 
“Can I speak, master?” he nearly moaned, biting the corner of his lip. “I feel like it would be unfortunate to remain silent during our….reuniting time.”
You let out a little chuckle. “What? Reuniting time?” you uncrossed your arms. “That's funny. We were never close enough to unite in the first place.”
“Oh, y/n,” he purred, reaching out to twirl a finger around your hair. You wanted to run away. Your mind told you to, but everything else craved him—as it always has. “I would say we united many times, haven't we?”
He looked like he wanted to grab you as tight as he could and swallow you whole—but the conflict in his eyes said no. you watched his eyes dance around you, how his hand froze mid-air within your hair, and his lips flat in a line.
And it took everything in you to move away from him. 
You took a step back, watching his eyes drop to your feet.
“You can stay,” you coughed, looking anywhere but him. “But don't…don’t bother me. Don't talk about….uniting, or reuniting, or whatever…..” you huffed, giving him one last look before running into the kitchen, only to find the cookies in the oven burnt to a crisp.
And once again, the cycle began. San’s enchantment was whirling around you, capturing everything in its wake. Your heart never belonged to you—no, it always belonged to him.
And he will make sure you will never forget it.
San sat at the table, watching you intently as you made another batch of cookie dough.
“How’s school?” he asked you, his voice soft.
You shrugged, stirring the dough with your bare hand, as there was no mixer. “It's fine, same same.”
He nodded, his chin held up by his palm. You continued to mix the dough.
“How’s what's his name? Soo—Soomin? Soojin? Soo–”
“Soobin?” you asked, trying not to smile at his obvious distaste.
He nodded, a frown on his lips.
You didn't get to respond as your phone interrupted the conversation.
“Ugh,” you huffed, holding your dough-covered hands in the air, unable to get your phone in your pocket. “Can you…can you get my phone for me?”
San stood up. “Where is it?” 
You pointed to your back pocket. “There, in my pocket.”
When he got next to you, he hesitated on reaching to get it, but when you gave him the death stare, his gentle hand glided down your back, down your ass, and to your pocket. You froze at his touch and nearly missed the phone call from your mess of emotions. 
He answered the call for you and held it up to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank god,” wooyoung breathed. “Don't go anywhere, alright?”
You scoffed, looking down at your dough-covered hands and your filthy clothes. “Ah, I wouldn't worry about me going anywhere. I’m definitely not fit for an outing.”
Wooyoung didn't laugh like his normal self. “For real, don't go anywhere. I won't be home for a good while because of the storm, so make sure you stay safe and warm.”
“Awe, I didn't know you cared so much about me,” you cooed, but when you saw San’s little smile at your words, you immediately swallowed hard, lost in thoughts you shouldn't be having while you're on the phone.
“Anyway, just be safe,” Woo sighed, taking a breath in. “I’ll be living off this shitty-ass beer and stale cookies. These sons of bitches are so cheap I swear—”
Without warning, the lights flickered slightly.
And then they went completely off, leaving you and San with no lights, no power, no anything.
“What the fuck—”
“For fucks sake,” San hissed, catching him off guard. Wooyoung, however, perked up the minute he heard a man.
“Who’s there with you? I heard a voice?”
“Oh, it’s just San,” you mumbled, looking up at him, where his eyes even sparkled in the dark. You forgot your train of thought for a moment. “He came here looking for you.”
“Yeah, right. That dude’s been obsessed with seeing you ever since he knew you were coming home. What a little pussy. He had to make up a lie to come over? Pfft—”
“Ah, oh no, looks like we lost service too—you’re breaking up—” San coughed, and after a moment of time for wooyoung to react, he hit the end button, tossing your phone onto the counter with haste.
You gave him a funny look as he tried to ignore your gaze. The room was extremely dark—not a single light source other than the little bluish glow from your home screen on your phone. 
You had no idea what to say to him; he didn't know what to say, either. You just stood in the dark kitchen, the oven at a standstill, and so were your feelings. He was looking down at his feet, trying his hardest not to look at you—although it was too dark to see you, anyway.
“Guess I’m done baking,” you hummed, giving him a slight look of curiosity before you took the cookies out of the cold oven. 
“Yeah, that won't work now,” he muttered quietly, very much unlike his usual dickhead way of speaking. He swallowed hard, too close to you. 
You stood strong right in front of him, your body telling you to grab him by the neck and kiss those gorgeous lips of his. Maybe you were just that desperate to feel something after your breakup—or maybe you always wanted San—either way, you were so close to giving in to your desire, but you pushed yourself away and took off your apron slowly.
“You never….you never answered my question earlier.”
You set the apron down on the counter next to your phone. It shut off now, leaving you in complete darkness, with San only a shadow in front of you.
You frowned, but you couldn't see the look on his face in front of you. “What question?”
“About how Soobin is?”
You scoffed, trying your best to look up into San’s eyes. You saw them sparkle slightly, and you stared into them. “So you do know his name.”
“I really don't care what his name is, y/n,” he grumbled, taking a step closer to you.
You smiled, knowing by the tone of his voice that he was aggravated. “Well, if you must know, I really don't know how he is.”
San grew quiet, but you heard him take a breath in. “what do you mean?”
“We broke up, so I wouldn't know how he is, alright?” you hissed at him, but only to get a reaction out of him—god, you didn't know what you’d do if what wooyoung said was true—that if San came here to see you, that he was waiting to see you for ages, that he’s irritated over the fact you’ve had a boyfriend—all of it would send you into a spiral. You always told yourself you'd need to be completely wasted to even think of San in a new light….but here in the dark, with his hot breath caressing your cheeks, you were ready to say fuck it to your facade. 
He didn't say anything for a while. He just stood there, his one hand leaning against the table to hold himself up. 
“You…broke up with him?” he hummed quietly.
“Mhm,” you nodded, tilting your head up to try and meet his gaze.
He swallowed, nodding. “Mmm. I see,” he smiled—at least it looked like he did. “Nice.”
“Nice?” you furrowed your brows.
“Well, I mean, I never liked the guy, so—”
“Why?”
“I don't know—”
“Yes, you do know,” you took a step even closer, causing him to catch his breath. “What’s the reason?”
He sighed, his breath dancing across your skin. “Well, like, two years ago or so, when we were out at the bar,” San took a second to form what he wanted to say, and you stood and looked up at him without a blink. “He got you a drink with Malibu in it.”
You blinked, confused. “So? I don't even remember that San, I don't know why you're bringing that up—”
“Because you hate coconut, y/n,” he interrupted you, his tone of voice exasperated. “And you hate going to bars—they stress you out. You didn't even finish the drink before he got you another and didn't even care to know what you liked…so I didn't like him.”
You stood there, mouth slightly dropped after his words. 
That was enough of a confession for you. 
“So….you didn't like him because he got me a coconut drink or….” you reached out, your fingers delicately draping over his that were resting on the table. He jumped slightly at your touch as if he was never expecting it. “Or because you could do better than him?”
San remained still as you let your fingers glide up his arm, feeling the softness of his hoodie that you wished to take off.
“....I think you know why I didn't like him….” He breathed.
You leaned forward in the dark, your gaze piercing right into his. Your hand met the base of his neck, sending shivers down his spine from the coldness of them. He let out a sound of pleasure at your touch, your other hand meeting his waist.
You didn't say anything else. You just wanted to fall into him, even with the consequences; it didn't matter what would happen tomorrow. He was breathing shallowly, his lips parted, begging you to kiss them as if he was waiting forever. 
And as if they knew the timing, the lights flickered back on, revealing a lovestruck San—his eyes hazy with desire and his expression out of a book.
His fingertips found their home on the side of your cheek, holding your face gently, carefully, as if you were glass.
You were less than an inch away from his lips, but before you pressed them to his, you stepped back, knowing that you were a filthy mess—you didn't want him to spend this time with you while you were embarrassingly messy.
“I….” you paused, pulling away from his hold. “I…need to shower,” you mumbled, giving him a look.
He blinked slowly. “A…shower?” 
“Yeah.”
With one last look at him, you saw the hesitation in his eyes. You walked past him, brushing up against him before you walked up the steps.
And before you got to the bathroom at the end of the hall, you heard his clunky footsteps make their way up the creaky stairs.
“Wait, hold on,” he huffed, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. “What was that?”
You looked at him innocently. “What was what?”
He furrowed his brows. “You know, that.”
You shrugged, fighting the smile that begged to arise. “What?”
He groaned, dropping your hand in a fit. “You were going to kiss me.”
You tilted your head, playing with him. “Was I?”
“Were you not?”
“I don't know.”
“Yes, you do know! You were literally about to kiss me—”
“And what if I was?” you whispered, your eyes slanted with mischief. He looked at you, his own expression changing from confusion to….well, more confusion. 
He bit his bottom lip. 
“Am I supposed to follow you into the shower?”
You smiled, letting him decide what you wanted him to do.
With a curt turn, you opened the bathroom door, leaving it open a crack, inviting him in.
You took off your messy top, covered in flour. You waited patiently, taking off your bra and your pants, and all that was left was your panties before he entered abruptly. 
“Listen, you can't leave that door open and not expect me to—oh,” he paused, his breath shaky. 
You stood unmovingly, facing him.
And with a slight scoff, he ran towards you. 
“Fuck it,” he huffed, slamming his body into yours, swallowing you with his whole being.
His lips caressed yours, biting your tongue, shoving his own into your mouth. You took in a sharp breath as he sucked on your soul, his hand finding your breast to squeeze it tightly.
“God, I’ve been waiting to do that forever,” he groaned against your mouth, his other hand playing with the hem of your underwear. With one quick motion, he pulled them down, falling onto your ankles as you stepped out of them.
You smiled into his kiss, tearing away at his hoodie before he pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless and full of glory. You parted away from his lips, kissing down his chest, over his mounds of muscle, until your knees hit the floor.
He froze under your touch, your fingertips gliding over his hard-on. You grinned devilishly up at him, his expression in a mess of excitement and nervousness. Him? Nervous? Impossible.
You pulled down his pants as swiftly as you could, causing him to hiss sharply. He was fully on display for you now, his cock pulsing and ready for you. You grazed your fingers from his base to his tip; then you took it in your mouth without a warning.
He grunted, immediately gripping the hair on top of your head, tossing his own back with aggression. His little moans were music to your ears; not once did you ever believe you'd hear them—he looked so fuckable. So desirable. He always did, which explains why he was your first-ever kiss, why you always thought back to him when you were with Soobin, why you couldn't avoid his charms even though you so desperately tried.
He moaned your name—said it with such haste as if he couldn't hold back. As if he’s wanted this for ages. He leaned into your mouth, moving his hips slightly to push himself in deeper. You let out a gag, causing him to moan once more, making you smile against his cock.
You moved back and forth on him, no hands in sight. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes as you pressed your lips at the base of his dick, watching his eyes close tight and his chest heave.
“God fuck,” he huffed, his fingers tying knots in your hair, causing tears to build up behind your eyes. You liked it—loved it—his touch was ecstasy.
Without a minute to waste, San pulled you upward and off of him, just for him to press his lips to yours, reaching backward to turn the knob on the hot water.
You giggled against his lips as he almost fell. He smiled back, teeth clashing into yours as he pressed his bare skin to yours. You both stepped into the shower, not even caring that the water wasn't warm enough yet. 
His tongue slid down your throat, caressing the roof of your mouth, exploring the uncharted territory. Water spilled over your heads, dripping down your faces, drenching your hair. His hand gripped the back of your head as he slammed you into the wall of the shower, causing you to gasp.
He pulled away for a second, his eyes heavy, his lips parted as water dripped down his beautiful face. He pressed his forehead against yours—feeling as though this scene was all he’d ever wanted; it was premeditated—not a quick decision.
He blinked away the water, smiling before enveloping you in another kiss—this time, it was less lustful and more desperate. He breathed into your soul, his hands cradling your face with all the tender care he could muster. His breaths were shaky, and his hold on you was tight, as if there was somehow, someway, you would break away from his embrace.
You bit into his lip, your hands never finding a home as they explored all the planes of his body. He grunted as you reached for his dick, his eyes glimmering at your expression. No words were needed—he gave you one last look before flipping you around, shoving your face into the fall, and sticking his dick into your entrance. His lips were nibbling at your ear, his hot breath delicately stroking your body and soul.
He didn't push past your entrance just yet—no, but his fingers did. They glided over your clit from the back, your breasts aching from being pressed against the tile. He let out a little hum of a moan into your ear as his fingers entered you, two of them. You whimpered in delight, the movements turning you on more and more. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, his fingers curling up inside you, his shallow breaths echoing in your mind. 
You couldn't take it anymore—you needed him inside you, now.
“I need you in me,” you moaned against the tile, tilting your head slightly to see his expression. “Now, please. God, please.”
He smirked, moving you now to the far wall, your back still to him. You nearly slammed your head into the wall as he moved you.
“As you wish,” he breathed, his voice dripping with lust, with love, with unknown feelings. With a quick movement, he shoved his dick inside you, causing you to arch your back from the fill. You cried out, holding onto the wall as he gripped your hips, moving rhythmically and melodicly. You furrowed your brows in pleasure, muttering his name. “Oh, San,” you moaned, causing him to move even faster.
The water crashed onto you, making you feel even higher than ever were before. The heat of it was scolding now, but nothing beat how hot San made you feel—he was indeed a genius in the manner of lovemaking, a god, at that. You knew why, everyone knew why, but you didn't care at the moment. The only thing you cared about was his body on yours, in yours, all around you.
You were reaching your high, your vision hazy. You let out a cry, a huff, something to show that you were enjoying him, and he made a sound, too.
As you reached your climax, you arched your back even more, shoving your face against the wall, your forehead thumping against it with every thrust of his. You came on his dick then, your body fighting the urge to shake from the feeling he supplied you. 
He felt it—you knew it, as he quickened his pace, his breaths becoming more uneven as the time went on, your body tightening around him. He hissed sharply, thrusting with grace until he emptied himself into you, coating you, becoming one within you.
He collapsed into you, against the wall, his dick slipping out from you. He huffed, catching his breath as the bathroom filled with steam and sweat. You turned around in his embrace, his head falling onto your shoulder with a thud.
And then he started to laugh.
A laugh so beautiful, so….raw. You began to laugh with him, smiling as you grabbed his cheeks to lift up his head—so he could see you. 
His eyes were red, but they sparkled with so much emotion that you wondered how he was feeling. 
“So,” you smiled, watching the water from the showerhead drip over his black hair. “Happy New Year, I guess?”
He smiled—a smile that made you want to stop everything.
And then his eyes widened. “What time is it?”
You frowned. “I don't know, my phone is downstairs,” you whispered, locking eyes with him.
He paused for a moment, not knowing what to do, or at least that’s what you believed until he leaned forward and brushed his lips to yours ever so gently.
A kiss for a lover. A kiss more meaningful than sex could offer.
He pulled away, but only slightly, as his forehead rested against yours. “Happy New Year,” he kissed you again. “Just in case it is midnight. You haven't been my New Year’s kiss since years ago, you know.”
You didn't know what to say—you weren't sure where he was going with this, as you had never brought up your kiss with him before. He spoke cautiously, yet without caution at all.
“I….well,” you swallowed hard, looking up at him shyly. “You can be my….new years kiss every year, if you’d like.”
He smiled—grinned like a wild animal at your words.
“Well, if you don't mind, I’d like to kiss you more than once a year.” he grabbed you by the waist swiftly, smirking,
You giggled like you were experiencing this for the first time. In all honesty, you may be. No one has ever made you feel this way. You never wanted anything more.
With a flirty smile, you leaned forward into his embrace, the shower hissing in the background of your confessions. 
“I would love that.” you nodded, looking up into his eyes. 
He looked like a dream, his hair wet, his eyes bright. You couldn't wait to share more New Year's kisses with him, more showers, more cookies. You wanted everything and more—even if you didn't exactly know it quite just yet.
He was your everything—Your heart never belonged to you—no, it always belonged to him. And you will never forget it.
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Eddie is gushing about Steve to Robin and he mentions how it's so fucking metal the way he never shies away from danger. Like, quite the opposite, he literally jumps right into it without a second thought!
And suddenly Robin remembers how Steve wanted to be tortured by the actual real Russian secret service if it meant that his then friendly coworker who he never saw outside of Scoops would be at least a little bit safer. And she notices for the first time how Steve always makes sure that everyone is safe before he leaves a dangerous place - how he makes sure to always be the last one - and she thinks fuck.
(She feels so fucking bad. He is her best friend. Her soulmate. The person who knows her best and vice-versa. How has she never noticed this before?!)
They start paying closer attention to him, then. Neither like what they see. Steve's eyebags grow bigger with every day that passes. He doesn't eat a lot. He can never say no to others, no matter how much it inconveniences him. And when Robin and Eddie gush about what an awesome person he is, he gets an uncomfortable expression on his face and denies it. Robin had never noticed how most their interactions were self-deprecating jokes until now, either.
They need to stage an intervention.
The next time Steve walks through the doors of Family Video, Robin and Eddie are ready. They lay down all the facts and propose a simple deal: either go talk to a professional, or they will explain everything to the rest of the party and they will force him to talk to a professional. It will end the same way no matter what he chooses, might as well take the path with least resistance.
The only thing that sounds worse than paying a stranger to talk about his feelings is to be forced to talk about them to his friends, so he agrees.
He doesn't think it will make a difference, at first. It's not like he is allowed to talk about monsters and other dimensions.
The first session is awkward. But Robin and Eddie always look at him with such worried and expectant looks and he cannot bear to burden them in any way, so he starts opening up more. He can't talk about the time he almost got eaten by Demogorgons in a secret supernatural underground tunnelsystem, but he can talk about the time Billie almost beat him to death. He can't talk about the secret Russian operation beneath the mall, but he can talk about almost dying in the "mall fire". (His memories of his time there are all scrambled because of the drugs, anyway. It is more about the 'near-death' thing and never being able to feel safe, which he can talk about)
He doesn't mean to talk about his interpersonal relationships at first. But then his therapist cautiously asks him about his parents, and before he knows it he is spilling beans he didn't even know needed to be spilled. He talks about how he only seems to be friends with people who went through traumatic experiences with him, and what does that say about him? He talks about when he first realized that other kids are not left behind by their parents for months at a time. He finally starts unpacking the whole Nancy situation and realizes, wow, turns out he isn't nearly as over the whole thing as he'd hoped. (There are a lot of tears).
He seamlessly fills session after session, and at first he doesn't think that it makes much of a difference. Until the kids meet him after he is exhausted from a double shift at Family Video and beg him to drive them somewhere or other, and he can say no and not give in without fearing that they will cast him aside.
(Robin and Eddie are smug when they also notice the changes, but Steve supposes they have earned it this one time.)
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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Freelance Inventor Part 2
Dedicated to @jimmysorsprinkles Thank you for enjoying my random dabbles. I saw that you wanted more Dads, Danny/Bruce, who are unknowingly co-parenting, so here it is! (set during the first prompt through the years of Danny just being a dad whenever he's home)
"I just don't know what to do," Bruce admits, watching Dick stomp about in tiny angry circles, muttering in his native tongue under his breath. He's been out there for about a half hour, doing laps in the yard. Danny knows he deliberately chose to do so under the window leading to Bruce's office.
The kid definitely wanted his guardian to know he was mad at him .
It was the fact Dick was unconsciously hunching his shoulders, curling his fist, and even raising his knee slightly higher than he needed for his stomps that were a nod to Bruce whenever the man was upset.
It seemed like Dick had picked up habits from Bruce during his short time here. If anything, Danny thought it rather cute if it weren't for the fact Dick was so upset.
"What happened?" He asked, standing beside Bruce, overlooking the pre-teen throwing a fit.
Bruce's frown is sharp and hinted with just the edge of uncertainty that anyone who didn't know him well would have dismissed. "He was being reckless in one of our extreme sports, and when I rightfully scolded him for it, he took it as me not trusting him."
Danny tilts his head, considering. It's been over three years since he became acquainted with the Waynes, and in that time- between his travels, his inventing, and his general desire to learn all he could in any way he could- he noticed that Dick was very quick to anger as a defensive mechanism.
This clashed horribly with Bruce's own mechanism- which was shutting down or at least emotionally wise. While Dick sneered and raged against the world, Bruce tried his best to forget he was human and detached himself from the situation.
Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feed into Dick's insecurities or Bruce's anxiety when they both reacted to adverse situations.
He has spoken to Jazz about it, and his sister has given him some advice that has helped him smooth things over with the young boy. Empathizing and paraphrasing the boy's issues was a big step in letting him feel heard and his feelings acknowledged.
For Bruce, he treated him like a ghost who had never seen a human. Plenty of ghosts were never human, were born in the ghost zone, or had been there for so long that they had forgotten what humans were like. Danny took time to explain why someone reacted the way they did- at least, why he thought so- and never made Bruce feel less for needing the help.
It was fun, in a way, to see Bruce's eyes lighten up with understanding and get him to talk about his rooted issues, but having to do so on carefully balanced tones and word choice. Phantom had so much practice de-escalating ghosts that it was a walk in the park with Bruce.
"I'll talk to him," Danny promised, leaning over to rest his hand on Bruce's shoulder and not batting an eye when the taller man landed down to rest his forehead on Danny's shoulder.
Where Bruce couldn't say in words, he yelled in his actions. It reminded him a bit of Wulf.
Bruce took a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you."
Danny hummed, reaching up to pet Bruce's hair like he would soothe Wulf, on days the werewolf would twitch too much at the door slamming, and suddenly his friend was mentally back in Walker's prison. "No problem. But, I will also be speaking to you later, and you are going to listen to Dick's side of the story without interrupting at dinner."
"Yes, Danny"
Alfred threw him an approving smile as he marched outside to meet Dick's rage-filled eyes and nervous hand twitching. He could catch the ending bits of whatever rant the boy was muttering.
"You're right. Bruce is an idiot sometimes." He starts grinning as the boy's eyes narrow further.
"You don't speak Romani."
"I may not understand what you're saying, but trust me, I feel it." Danny chirps, watching Dick's shoulder relax a little. " What did he do this time?"
"You won't even believe it!" Dick snaps, and then he's off, Danny keeping pace with him step by step as the boy works himself into another frenzy.
Later that night, Dick explained that he hated how Bruce made him feel so belittled and unimportant, his voice tight with a itch to fight, and Bruce carefully- with significant prompting from Danny- explained how he didn't mean it that way. He was only worried that he was about to watch Dick die in front of him, and he couldn't live through losing his family again.
Dick looked shocked to be considered family, and Danny swore he helped the boy sneak into Bruce's office, which so happened to have the adoption papers Bruce was hiding. Alfred gave him a large sample of pudding for dessert.
______________________________________________
"Hey, kid," Danny whispered, watching Jason tense up momentarily. It's not overly noticeable, but Danny has grown used to seeing little ghost blobs show emotions by how they twisted and twirled over the years, so he could tell what the slight tightening of the fingers around the book meant.
Anxious.
It would be understandable if Jason had been present for another one of Dick's and Bruce's explosive arguments. He came from a household that had an older male figure beat him whenever Willis got in a mood, so while he knew that Bruce or Dick would never hit him, Jason still tried to make himself scarce.
Jazz was the one to point out Jason's usage of escapism in the form of books to comfort himself, and so Danny took whatever time he could manage to read the same books as Jason while on his travels.
"What?" The boy grunted, voice soft but weary.
Danny sits across from him, making sure to stay in Jason's eyesight at all times. He had realized in only his second visit after meeting Jason that the boy did not like having someone too close in his space.
He grew up on the streets where being weary of older men kept him alive- Danny would never fault him for what he had to do to survive.
Unlike Dick, who was always down to talk about why he was upset if only to rant, Jason preferred to have a distraction. So he offers him a smile that he hopes projects You're safe with me and pulls out a book from his bag.
Jason's eyes light up at the cover. "I had some theories on Mr. Darcy being in love with Mr.Bingley before he met Elizabeth, and Bruce won't agree with me. Help me find citations as proof?"
"It's so obvious that he was, how can the old man not see that!" Jason snorts, tilting his head in a cute habit that he picked up from Dick. He really looks up to his big brother no matter how tense things can get.
Danny is glad he's gotten Dick to explain to Jason that he didn't hate him, but he was going through a lot, and Jason as a street kid, understood on some level.
"The old just hate listening to other people's suggestions even when we're right!." Jason leans over to read the book Danny places between them, considering Jane Austin's work while Danny files away the real reason he's upset with Bruce.
Later, after Jason and he present a bemused Bruce with a report on why Mr.Darcy is bi and had feelings for his best friend before meeting his wife, he tells Bruce to explain why he didn't consider Jason's suggestion in their extreme sport.
Jason goes to bed that night with a better answer than "because I said so," and Danny forces Bruce to go up to his room and re-read Pride and Prejudice to connect with his youngest.
Alfred offers them extra blankets and pillows since the two get so caught up reading to each other that Danny just decides sleeping in Bruce's bed is easier than walking down two wings to the guest rooms.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm not going to bed," Tim snapped when Danny knocked on his door. His fingers are flying over the keyboard of his computer, his little face glowing from the computer screen, and Danny is almost reminded of himself whenever he gets caught up in his work.
It may worry Bruce and Alfred, but Danny is a Fenton. He knows what it's like to have his brain run over time and sacrifice sleep or meals to get his ideas into the world.
His mother is the same, his father is the same, his sister is the same, and even Danny's clone is the same. It's fitting that the little boy he caught following Batmam around with a camera is the same since he all but forced Bruce to adopt him.
He hadn't meant to.
He had been testing an air purifier when he returned to Gotham since Bruce and the kids were out of state, and his ghost hearing picked up the sound of a camera click.
Imagine his surprise that when he turned to the roof opposite him, he found the tiny little face of an eleven-year-old staring back, holding a camera, and Batman swinging away in the distance. Danny became attached to Tim that night, even after he chased the boy down to ask if he was safe.
He did not like the implications of his parents always "working" while Tim ran amok in Gotham.
It took almost two weeks of following Tim around Gotham to help him with his photos before the boy allowed him to take him to Wayne Manor. It took three more before Bruce realized that Danny wouldn't allow Tim's parents to win him back, and together, they took the Drakes to court.
Danny has never been more grateful that Bruce was loaded with money and that his inventions gained him contacts in high places that wouldn't mind taking the Drakes down.
Tim was a lot like Bruce- where he shut down- but he needed people to be around him more. Sometimes just sitting in the same room- where Tim could glance up and see him- was enough for the boy to be at ease.
This was great for Bruce, who thought he didn't need to do much to make Tim happy- until Danny reminded him that Tim was a poor boy who was gutted for any form of parental approval.
He had to almost punch Bruce after overhearing him tell Tim he was proud of him, but there was room for improvement. Bruce meant it as helpful, constructive criticism, but Tim- whose parents all but drilled how useless he was- only heard criticism.
Only heard, he was not enough.
So now Tim was going, who knew how many hours without sleep, trying to fix whatever issue he thought he had caused. How a fourteen-year-old could have caused issues at his adoptive dad's multimillion-dollar company was beyond Danny, but it meant a lot to Tim, so he didn't need to understand it.
He just needed to respect it.
"Don't want you to," Danny grunts, throwing himself on Tim's queen-sized bed. "I just wanted to know if I could crash here. Bruce pissed me off."
Tim's fingers pause. "What did he do?"
"He tried to tell me how to handle my inventions' payment. I'm a freelancer! I know how to do that." Danny complains while twisting under the covers. Tim slowly turns around to look at him, but he acts like he doesn't notice. "I know he'll try to talk to me in the guest rooms, but he won't find me here. I just don't want to listen to another "I can do it better" lecture."
After a moment's pause, Tim admits. "He did the same to me and my team."
He means Cassie, Bart, and Conner. The little team of photography buddies Bruce introduced Tim back when they started homeschooling him. Dani suggested pulling Tim out of school is one of the best advice his clone ever gave him.
Tim took the pictures, Cassie and Conner modeled, and Bart made the clothes. Their work was slowly gaining traction online, and Tim seemed to glow whenever the Team was mentioned.
"Course he did." Danny sigh. He leans back into the pillow. "Know why he did it, too. Bruce doesn't want me to be taken advantage of, but it's hard not to hear him think I can't keep up, especially when my family is doing the same thing."
"Yeah," Tim's voice is soft. "It's frustrating that all your hard work is overshadowed or that everything you've done so far doesn't prove that you know you can."
Bingo. Danny discovered Tim's issue; now he just needs to bring it home.
"I know I'm great at what I do. You said so yourself- my past proves I am crazy good at work. I leave other people breathless in awe all the time. I can adapt and overcome so much faster than others. Bruce can see that, but he forgets to praise it." Danny huffs like he's trying not to be forgiving, and it causes a smile to unwillingly appear on Tim's face.
"I'll talk to him tomorrow but today I'm being petty and hiding. Thanks for letting me sleep here"
"You're welcome, Danny." Tim goes back to his typing, but only after a minute or two of Danny asking if he can turn off the light does the boy save his work and shut his computer down.
The room is plunged into darkness but Danny doesn't need the light to see how Tim sinks into his mattress. Tim is smart- crazy smart that every part of him that's Fenton crows with pride- and he can easily see through Danny.
"Thank you Danny" He doesn't say what for but he doesn't need to.
Danny reaches over, grabs the blankets, and makes sure they cover the small shoulder, tucking Tim in properly. "Any time kid"
The next morning, Bruce wakes them up with a powerpoint of all the things he thought were impressive about Tim and his team's last photo session. A powerpoint for Pete's sake.
But it makes Tim smile so much that Danny lets it slide. At least he listened when Danny chewed him out for forgetting to praise Tim.
Alfred offers Danny some of his private tea jars, which according to Dick, means Danny is in for life as Tim, Jason, and Bruce go over the PowerPoint again. Jason has begone to heal for his bitch of a mother's betrayal a few months ago.
Thankfully, Danny was in the area when he called and reminded the lady why she should not mess with Bruce's kids. Dani paying her a visit in her jail cell was just the Fentons' sending their regards.
(His dad gave Dani the ani-creep stick, and his mom hacked the cameras to loop. Jazz just watched hours of her to realize what made the woman scream and cry before sending the clone on her way. It was a good family bonding moment)
No one believed the woman claiming to be haunted that her son was Robin. Honestly, where on earth she got that idea Danny would never know.
His Jason, the sweet school-loving boy who graduated as valedictorian, running around punching criminals? Honestly, what was she going to claim next?
Bruce being Batman?!
Please.
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nezuscribe · 5 months
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toji x reader (mdni, 18+)
your parents set you up to marry some snobby rich guy when all you want is toji (toji is uncharacteristically soft in this get over it)
“toji! toji, would you please open the door!" your fist pounded on the red chipped paint, sopping wet as the rain pelted down your face, mixing with some of your tears as you shivered in your thin shirt, clearly not dressed for the occasion.
you didn't know if he was home or not, but you were desperately hoping that he was.
you knew it was wrong coming back to this place, especially since the last time you saw him you told him to never look at you again, but you didn't know anywhere else to go in this town.
the field around you moved violently with the winds, and the porch light was still off. his old mustang was parked outside, so you knew he had to be in there, somewhere.
"toji, please, i'm freezing and it's dark!"
you were sure that if he didn’t open up you’d have to make some room in the little shed he had in the front because there was no way you’d be driving home alive with the rain about to come, but before you went plotting about how to fashion a tarp into a blanket, the door swung open.
the first thing you noticed was that he didn’t seem too pleased to see you, his eyes blazing into a glare, brows furrowed down the middle as the two of you just looked at each other.
it had been weeks since you had last seen him, and if you didn’t know any better, the dark circles under his eyes might have mirrored yours.
you longed to kiss it.
"why are-" he couldn't finish his sentence as you hurled yourself into his chest, your arms gripping onto him as he stumbled back inside.
you never would have thought that you’d miss the faint smell of smoke, or the whiskey lingering around his lips, but you hoped that it would never leave your memory.
sobbing as you clung onto him tightly, you had no idea what expression had taken over his face. was he angry or shocked? you knew you were getting his shirt wet, your fingers gripping onto his back as he stayed quiet, the only thing filling the vacant room being your wet sniffles.
slowly, you felt him move around a bit, giving in as he pulled you deeper into his chest. he patted your back as he shut the door behind you, eyes darting over your figure to make sure everything was okay.
"you okay?"
you shook your head, still hiding in his chest, and he nodded. he knew that much, but at least you had the vicinity to reply. he was worried that you had been petrified.
"want some tea?'
you shook your head again, still clinging onto him, perhaps even tighter than before.
he took in a sharp breath, not knowing what to do with you. it had been weeks since he last saw you, although, in a much different state.
"sweetheart," he muttered lifting your chin up with his thumb so he could see your face, the air knocking out of his lungs as he was once reminded of just how beautiful you are, even with tear tracks down your cheeks, "you 'gotta talk to me."
you sniffled, your lashes fluttering up and down as you fell back on his chest, your cheeks smushed in and your breaths came out in heaves.
"daddy set me up with him," you finally said, voice coming out muffled, "the wedding's in december."
his grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you in impossibly closer to him.
toji had been your "summer fling", or so your parents liked to call him. your parents had bought a summer home a couple of years ago and so every year since then, for a couple of months, you and your family would stay in this little town.
this year shouldn't have been different from the last one. in fact, the first couple of weeks there are fine. you easily find some people within your parent's circle, but it wasn't fun yet, it wasn't summer.
that is until you bump into a man who's friends with your friend's boyfriend (he was also third-wheeling with you on their date).
he's tall and brooding and most definitely wouldn't have looked your way if not for the predicament you were in. he gave the aura that he hated old money and you along with it, but for some reason, the scar on his lip twitched into a tiny smile as you kept up with his humor with witty remarks.
weeks following that were filled with him chasing after you as you giggled uncontrollably, not used to the giddy feeling that filled your chest whenever he tackled you down, holding you close to his chest as he littered kissed all over your face.
you knew it was wrong, at least by your parent's standards, but you didn't care all that much. you liked the dirt under his nails and the gruffness in his voice, it was so different from the guys you grew up with.
and despite his outward appearance he was so sweet. he may not have shown it much, but he held you close to him, attached by the waist as he whispered lame jokes in your ear and bought you caramel apples whenever you craved them.
it could have been puppy love but deep down you knew it wasn't. his lips lingered far too long for puppy love
and when your parents found out they were livid. it was a complete disgrace for somebody with the likes of you to be fooling around with somebody from the likes of him, and it only took a few meetings with your parents and a few arguments that left you in tears in him seething before you broke it off, promising that if you ever saw him again you'd shave his head.
but here you were, and his head was still full of hair.
"what's his name?" he asked, his voice gruff, and heavy as you looked up, wiping your nose again as you blinked.
"um," you racked your mind for a few hours ago, the screaming match you had with your parents fresh in your head as you gnawed on your lip, "satoru...something, i don't remember."
his eyes darkened, wiping the tears off of your face as he sucked in a breath through his teeth.
"your folks know that you're here?" his voice grew gentle, trying to keep it together for your sake, and you shook your head once again. you felt another wave of tears coming, and it took a lot of composure to not break down.
"no, i told them to go to hell. m-maybe they'll go searching there first," you murmur, a little grin making its way onto his face as he leads you through his home, the comfy sight making you feel at ease.
you found yourself on his couch, the same one from a few weeks ago, the same one where he...
"i'll go get you some clothes-" but you stopped him from leaving, tugging on his shirt to keep him in place.
"stay," you say, and he had no fight in him to deny you of your request. not with the way you looked at him. never when it came to you.
he gives you a tight nod, sitting across from you, careful not to be too close as he glances at the clock. it's late, and with the way the rain is pouring outside he'd be damned if he let you go back home in this weather. he'd rather take the claims of being sued by your father and let you sleep here than have you leave.
you look at your hands clasped in your lap, not saying anything about his distance, but feeling it tenfold when he sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to grapple with this situation.
"we're leaving two days from now," you say hurriedly, glancing at him quickly and then back to the ground, not knowing what else to do.
his eyes squint, brows crease down the middle at your words. he felt his chest grow heavy, and he can't remember the last time somebody had this sort of effect on him.
"thought you were leaving in a month?"
you shake your head, wiping at your eyes as you sniffle.
"my parents wanted me to meet...him."
his tongue pokes at his cheek, and he wants a scotch right now. fuck it, he'll take some vodka if he had any, but he finished the little bit remaining after the last fight the two of you had.
"i didn't mean what i said," you sputter out again, your eyes darting to his as you shift on his couch, "i don't hate you toji, i don't hate you at all. i was mad, 'nd i was mad at my parents and at you for what they told'ya to say, but i'm not mad at you, i love you, and i want to-" he doesn't let you finish, moving the two quick steps that separated the two of you as his face leans down to yours, his lips cutting you off.
you squeal a bit in surprise, clutching onto his shirt as he sets himself down, moving you with his own strength onto his lap as he never disconnects from you.
the two of you were basically feverish, feeling as though if you stopped for a second the world would stop spinning and you'd be forced to find each other again.
your spit mixed with his, your tears staining his cheeks as he huffed against your lips, his tongue fighting yours as he pushed his way into your mouth, his fingers wrinkling the expensive fabric of the dress that was splayed over your legs.
your fingers clutched and grasped at his hair, loving how it felt between you. you tugged, knowing he liked the sting, and knowing you liked the small gasp that escaped his throat when you'd do so.
"l-love you," you pant, pulling away to catch your breath as he follows you upward, spit connecting the two of you together as your eyes water again, "i love you toji," your words have a hold on him, something he's never experienced before.
for your entire life, you've wanted to be full of love. you've wanted a love that you've read in classic literature and seen in old hollywood movies. you wanted to be so full of love that you emptied yourself, waiting around for your prince charming. and when you met toji, he poured out his heart, giving you everything that he had. nobody else was toji, and nobody else could love you the way that he did.
"love you too, sweetheart," he whispers, and the words are heavy on his tongue, something he never said before he met you. he's not used to this, and he's not sure he will be. but he's sure that he wants your love, and knows that no other man is worthy of it. half the time he doubts he's worthy of it as well.
"i didn't mean what i said," you tell him again and he shushes you with another kiss, nodding as his large hands run soothingly up and down your back, his nose nudging your sweetly.
"i know sweetheart, i didn't either. y'know what you mean to me, nothing you say or do will ever make me mad at you." and he's right, because he can't remember the last time he had been with a woman who he was sure he'd kill for, can't remember the last time he had actually loved someone the way he loves you.
"i," you feel your words running out when his lips attach to your neck, your head falling backward to give him more room as heat blossoms in your face, across your chest, "i wanna run away with you, start fresh s-somewhere," you can feel your mind begin to go hazy as he sucks, his tongue running across the fresh marks he leaves you, looking through his long lashes as he listens intently to what you have to say.
"no," he shakes his head, undoing the knot that was keeping your dress together as his nose rubs at your soft skin, savoring this, "no, you're 'gonna go back home and you're 'gonna-"
"toji!" you try to quiet him but he looks at you, wanting to finish what he is trying to say. you knew what he wanted to tell you, knew that deep down you were merely dreaming. his calloused hands squeezed at your thighs, unconsciously moving you up and down his hard bulge.
"and you're 'gonna marry somebody who can provide for you," and although the words take everything in him to say, he knows that is the life that you deserve.
"i'll work, i'll find a job and the two of us will-" he presses a soft kiss to your lips, shaking his head.
"you know that this isn't the life cut out for you, and you know that no matter what, i won't be able to give you everything that you want." his thumb is hungrily hooking your panties to the side, fingers running over your slit that was practically dripping in wetness. he knew that this was the last time the two of you could be able to do this, and though he wanted to savor every second with you, he could barely control himself as it was.
"i want you," you shakily say, tears springing in your eyes as he hurries to wipe them away. who would have guessed that the man most feared in town would have done anything in his power to make the woman he loved most smile genuinely again?
to that, he had no response.
so instead, he did what he knew best, tugging his pants down as his cock sprang free. you glanced down, your mouth running dry at the sight.
his head was an angry red, leaking with pre as it twitched in the cold air. he was the only man you've been with, but you were aware enough to know that he was hung. and you couldn't help but think he was pretty, although you'd never admit it out loud. toji would only swat at you, gently turning your head to the side as he rolled his eyes.
but tonight, the two of you didn't have time to waste.
normally, he'd eat you out until your screams filled his house until your legs clamped around his head until you said you couldn't take anymore, his mouth shining with your essence and his spit. but you were wet enough where he didn't have to, and truth be told, you wanted him in you now, wanted to feel yourself around him.
you lined yourself up with him, your walls fluttering around nothing as his head spasmed from the feeling of lightly running against your clit. he was usually the one in charge, but tonight he let you take the lead, knowing how you needed it.
you gently pushed yourself on, your head tipping backward at the stretch. no matter how many times you'd take him, your pussy would never fully be able to accommodate his size. even his fingers would sting when he stretched you out, and this was far more different from that.
"fuck, slowly, there you go," he talked you through it, his eyes half-lidded as you began to sink into him, taking him inch by inch. your fingers gripped his shoulder, leaving indents as you felt your lungs squeezing out any of the air left in them.
"t-toji, fuck, you're so big," you mutter, biting on your lips to keep in the wanton moans as you squeeze around him, hearing him suck in a breath at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his twitching cock.
"you can do it," his hands gripped onto your waist, your skirt pooling around your hips as he helped steady you on, "know you can sweetheart, you've done it before," his voice was husky, a deep drawl to it. you loved it, loved him, loved everything about him.
"shit, hmmm, fuck!" you squeal, finally squeezing all of him in your, trying to take a little break as you felt him nearly rip you in half, the sting was welcome, and you lived for the way his head nipped at the spot that made your eyes roll back.
after a few seconds, you felt his thumb find your clit, swiping at it slowly as he began to move you up gently with his other hand. sweat was dotting his brow bone, and your head had thumped onto his, letting him maneuver your body.
once it was just his tip left in you, his eyes found yours, making sure you were good. when you gave him the go-ahead nod, he slammed your back down, a loud whine ripping itself from your lips.
"t-toji! oh my god, ooooh, f-fuck, toji!" you could barely find any words to say as he bounced you up and down on his cock, squelching sounds filling the air as a ring of you circling it's way around his dick, making it shine in the faint candles he had lit once the power went out from the storm.
"there you go, fuck, jus' like that." he rasped, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move, palming them as he switched between tugging at your nipples and swiping at your clit, knowing either one made your mind go foggy.
"remember this dick when you see that scrawny bitch, yeah?" he huffs into your damp skin, kissing, biting at your chest, your neck as he looks up at you, "know this he can never amount to this, 'k sweetheart?"
you nod feverishly, tugging at the strands of hair that littered at his nape as you lean down to kiss him, everything messy and rushed as the two of you cling onto each other.
"who makes you feel this good?"
"y-you!" you cry out, crying from the pleasure and the pain, the crack in your heart worsening with each second.
"who does this pussy belong to?" he edged you on, his veins dragging up and down your walls with his every thrust, his lip caught between his teeth.
"you toji!" you whine out, trying to grab onto his clothes, his shoulders, anything to stabilize you to reality.
"who do you love, huh, sweetheart?" he needs to hear it once more, once more so that it can be seared into his mind. once more so that once he has to live a life without you in it, the reminder that you love him, or at least loved him at some point, can make him smile without having it turn bitter.
"you, jus' you toji!" your tears are salty on his lips, and he can feel you getting closer to your release. he knows he's not far away from his, so he picks up his pace, rubbing your little bud faster as he feels your walls clench tightly around him.
"that's right," he groans, "you're all mine."
he knows that he's being selfish, knows that you'll probably forget about him and this fling years from now. but here, at this moment, he wants you to remember him. he wants your pussy to mold to his shape so that no other man can fit you, fuck you, love you the way toji does.
you nod again, your arms circling around his neck as your hips stutter, your stomach clenching and walls clamping down as you feel yourself about to let go.
"toji, i'm gonna, fuck, toji...!" you squeal when he doesn't stop, his pace relentless as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, never leaving you unmarked with his bruising grip on your waist.
"come on, do it, let go, come with me," he's close, and once he feels your walls spasming around him, your head tilting back as you let out a strangled cry as you come, he lifts you up, his release spilling all over your naked stomach as his cock twitched with his every movement.
you swear you've never felt this good in your life, your toes curling as you finally cum around him. it's too much, the way your essence squirts everywhere, your walls longing to be filled once he pulls out of you.
it's too much yet too little, knowing that the two of you don't have much time to savor this moment.
your chest is heaving up and down, your neck flushing with heat as you settle back down on toji's lap, your legs and thighs cramping as he flashes' you a little grin, the same one that made you fall in love with him in the first place as you move some hair away from his eyes.
aside from your labored breaths, his house is silent once again, and just as heavy as it was minutes ago.
"the night's still not over," he reminds you, the two of you glancing out the window as the rain continues to storm down. the wind is faster and angrier than it was before you arrived, and the thunder rattles the little house.
"can we go to your bedroom?" you ask, resting your head down on his chest as you listen to the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat. it's erratic, just like yours.
"mhm," he hums, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, shuffling your skirt around so that it settles on your thighs.
"i'm 'gonna come back next year," you saw, wiping at your cheeks so that he can't see you crying again, but nothing goes unnoticed by him, "and you better have a ring waiting for me when i do."
he nods again.
"anything for my girl."
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