Tumgik
#god i wish he talked more about what he reads because i find the books and authors people are drawn to fascinating
on-leatheredwings · 15 hours
Text
Meeting the Family
based off this! but can be read alone.
Yandere! Fem! Reader / Yandere! Bruce Wayne
> romantic with bruce, platonic with the boys. the boys could be read as pre-yandere if you wish. > tw/cw: reader is a yandere, yandere-typical thought patterns, implied drugging, mention of self-harm, implied drugging > request: thoughts on co-conspirator!reader meeting the boys? > a/n: Hmmmm, i feel it’d be a meeting of interrogation where they see you’re clearly unstable !! > word count: 1.4k
Tumblr media
You walk towards the threshold of a Wayne Manor sitting room. You have this hallway nearly memorized. You’ve viewed it through your 24/7 surveillance cameras and glanced upon it during your visits, but never has this hallway seemed so daunting until now. Luckily, your lover is nearby to reassure you. Bruce slips his hand into yours, and you inwardly swoon. You share a warm glance with him.
“They’ll adore you,” he says. You let a smile peek through your anxious expression. “I know I do.” At such sweet words, you feel your cheeks heat. Ugh, this man, you think affectionately.
Your Sunday best is the armor you don to meet Bruce’s children. It seems like you won’t even be able to meet them all – only the ones in town. “They just want to interrogate me,” you whine, letting yourself be pulled towards the impeccably decorated room.
“They just want to get to know you,” Bruce returns, humming. You can’t retort because already, you are in full view of his brood. The three of them look up from their phones and books. You swallow, under the scrutiny of two pairs of blue eyes and one pair of green.
“... Hi,” you say, waving a stupid hand. One smiles in return, thank goodness.
“I’ll just let you all get acquainted,” Bruce says, retreating. You swerve to him, blinking dumbly. That was not the agreement. The agreement was that Bruce moderate the discussion– and he’s gone.
He leaves the sitting room, and leaves you in the lion’s den to fend for yourself. And boy, do the lions pounce. 
The eldest, Dick – he’s positively godsent. He’s the first to shake your hand, immediately going into a friendly babble about how you’re all Bruce ever talks about and how he’s been excited to meet you. And thank God for that, because it manages to ease the tension you still have in your shoulders. He introduces himself and his brothers, melts the ice by teasing them as he does it. He offers you a seat across from them, offers you tea and cookies. He shares an anecdote of Bruce’s less polished moments to make you laugh. 
You soon realize he was a sleeper agent. He was merely buttering you up, lowering your defenses with well-placed platitudes and good-natured jokes.
It’s Tim who begins the true assault.
“So,” Tim begins over a cup of tea, looking upon you owlishly. “Isolation for 10 long years… How was that?” You blink, startled, before smiling weakly. At least no one was treating you like glass. Sometimes, that made you feel even more like a freak.
You try to give him a Sparknotes recollection, but it doesn’t satisfy him. At his badgering, you do relent more details. You are slipping your innermost thoughts without much of a fight, to your surprise. Dick’s empathetic gaze and Tim’s enraptured attention have you spilling dark thoughts it took you months to even tell Bruce… 
It was long. It was traumatic. Mind-altering. You have breakdown after breakdown. Self-harm after self-harm. There is a part of you you can never get back… So, 'how was it?' Why, just awful, thanks for asking!
Dick comforts you with “you’re so strong,” as Tim nods. He seems happy with his findings. It seems like you have piqued his academic interest – you can basically see the gears churning behind his mind, the factoids he’s storing for later. For what, you don’t know, but you’re glad to help. Throat dry, you down the rest of that blasted tea, but the boys aren’t quite finished.
Damian, however, is brutal in his questioning, sparing any of the pleasantries or dithering his brothers employed. He asks rapid fire about your past outside of your years in isolation. What was your childhood like? Your relationship with your parents? Did you ever graduate high school? College? What was your major? Do you like animals? His father houses two dogs, a cat, and a cow – you do know that don’t you? 
“What are your intentions with my father?” At that, you flinch.
“Nothing… nefarious, to be sure,” you say, sweat beginning to bead on your temple. It’s true! Aside from all the dastardly actions you wanted to inflict upon Bruce in the bedroom, nothing nefarious!
“And his other suitors? They don’t bother you?” 
At that, your smile wilts. Not from any offense… you simply don’t enjoy the reminder that others do seek Bruce’s affection. 
“They… don’t worry me,” you say succinctly. Dick doesn’t think you realize how your smile has grown sharp. Damian doesn’t let on whether he approves or disapproves of the answer. And Tim simply watches.
“And my father’s controlling and possessive tendencies? You’re fine with that? What would you do if you caught him in a lie? Or if a woman he was involved with confronted you?”
You gape like a fish. Man, what a character this one was. Damian blinks slow and catlike, before he sniffs. “I’m asking for one of the siblings who couldn’t be here today.”
“Um…” you return, discombobulated. You shoot off your answers as rapid-fire as he posed them. “I haven’t noticed any tendencies. And I can handle myself! If he lied… I’d hear him out. He probably had a good reason, of course.”
“What if it was infidelity?” 
You glare at them. “I’d get rid of her.” Why do they keep bringing up other women? 
At the boys’ silence, you realize your mistake. You wave your hands and bluster, “Not like– not like get rid of her– I would just tell her to… Leave. And I’d be… angry… at Bruce.” God, you don’t feel like you’re doing too well in this interview. You hiccup, filling your cup some more. What is in this tea? Man, it’s delicious.
“... Interesting.” 
“What if Bruce left you out of his own volition?” Tim points out, drawing your attention.
Your head snaps to him and you stare… That possibility had never even crossed your mind.
“He wouldn’t,” you say, confused. At raised eyebrows, you say, “I mean. I-I don’t think he would.” You have faith in Bruce. It’s been five months now, and your relationship has gone swimmingly. You had your insecurities… but Bruce had kissed all your worries away by now. Your fingers dig into the cushion of the couch. 
He wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t. He had already reassured you, and been so kind, and wonderful, and shown you what love was like– he couldn’t just leave you now–
“But what if he did?” and this time, the question comes from Dick, who, if you recall, hadn’t asked a single question yet. He looks serious, unlike his casual air from before.
You keep the desperation out your voice by keeping it chillingly level. “Then I’d convince him otherwise.” Good answer, good answer, you applaud yourself. All the boys nod, looking upon you with varying degrees of interest, curiosity, and understanding.
“Then… I suppose we have just one more question,” Tim says, plucking the kettle of tea out your hands. You pout.
“Thoughts on having children?”
At the question, your brows shoot into your hairline.
“... Are there not enough of you already?” you blurt.
To your relief, they all relax.
-
After that strange encounter, Bruce shows himself and sees you out. The walk outside is quiet. Comfortably quiet on your end. You hope you did good… no, you reassure yourself. Fuck it, you did great.
“So… how were they?” 
You glance at his face, and are surprised to see thinly veiled concern behind his smile. “Did any of them say anything… strange? And… did you like them?” You laugh, before floating up to kiss Bruce between the brows. Flight powers came in handy for stuff like that.
“They were wonderful,” you say cheekily. “Something they clearly get from their father.”
-
bonus!
Bruce re-enters the foyer. He shoots off a text, lamenting. If you hadn’t had him bug his own home, he could’ve spoken to the boys freely. He could’ve had Jason hide nearby, instead of having to listen in on Damian’s phone.
Bruce: Did that satisfy your curiosities?
Several ellipses in bubbles pop up, before his phone rattles with their responses.
Damian: Frankly, she comes off as airheaded and naive, but at least she seems to have some semblance of spine.
Jason: She’s crazy. Didn’t we tell you to stop sticking your dick in crazy
Dick: Well, I think that makes you guys a perfect match!
Tim: bruce i’m sorry, you cannot fix her. however, i would like to study her. and possibly, make her worse
Bruce sighs, albeit smiling. By all accounts, you seem have gotten their general approval.
108 notes · View notes
uhbasicallyjustmilex · 8 months
Text
quotes from alex turner's favourite authors that make me want to put my face through a wall:
"although i have never been an actor in the strict sense of the word, i have nevertheless, in real life, always carried about with me a small folding theatre" - vladimir nabokov, despair
"there is a terrible emptiness in me, an indifference that hurts," - albert camus
"there is no trap so deadly as the trap you set for yourself" - raymond chandler
"at eight, he had once told his mother that he wanted to paint air" - vladimir nabokov
"no man ever understands quite his own artful dodges to escape from the grim shadow of self-knowledge" - joseph conrad
"everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it" - david foster wallace
"we're all lonely for something we don't know we're lonely for. how else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we've never even met?" - david foster wallace
"i turn over a new leaf every day, but the blots show through" - keith waterhouse
"the truth will set you free. but not until it's finished with you" - david foster wallace
"curiosity is insubordination in its purest form" - vladimir nabokov
"i'm me and nobody else; and whatever people think i am or say i am, that's what i'm not, because they don't know a bloody thing about me" - alan sillitoe
"we live as we dream; alone” - joseph conrad
"i liked, as i like still, to make words look self-conscious and foolish, to bind them by mock marriage of a pun, to turn them inside out, to come upon them unwares" - vladimir nabokov, despair
"whatever you get paid attention to for is never what you think is most important about yourself" - david foster wallace
"i continued to stir my tea long after it had done all it could with the milk” - vladimir nabokov, despair
"i remained too much inside my head and ended up losing my mind" - edgar allan poe
"all the information i have about myself is from forged documents" - vladimir nabokov, despair
"how odd i can have all this inside me and to you its just words" - david foster wallace
"you will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. you will never live if you're looking for the meaning of life" - albert camus
247 notes · View notes
Text
₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞
Tumblr media
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: ❝the summer’s hot, and i’ve been waiting for you all this time.❞ — rafe finally comes back home from his two-month long family vacation, surprising you in the middle of the night.
warnings: established relationship, ward overhears you and rafe on the phone, dry humping, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex
word count: 2.3k
a/n: it literally makes me so happy when i see the feedback you guys give me, especially when you show your support by reblogging or simply liking. i love and appreciate every single one of you <333 series masterlist
Tumblr media
“you’re actually lying.” tears were already forming in your eyes as rafe spoke on the other line. “i wish i was, baby. we were supposed to fly back in this morning but some weather shit got in the way, so we’re kinda stuck here until they let us know when there’s another flight available.” you sighed, trying your best to keep your voice from shaking. “have you asked the airport people already?” there was a slight pause before rafe answered.
“they said it could be weeks since the hurricanes here get pretty crazy.” weeks?! you thought you could die right now. “i’m so mad my parents didn’t let me go.” the tears were falling now. you and rafe had never been apart for this long. with all the built up anticipation, you couldn’t help but get youreself excited and hopeful about seeing him today, just for all of it to come crashing down with a single phone call. “i wish you were here too, babe. i got you a bunch of stuff from the shopping centers here, i think you’ll love it.” you wanted to cry harder because of how sweet he was.
“aww, you didn’t have to do that for me, baby.” you cooed, your heart fluttering in your chest when you heard the smile in his voice. “at least you’re going on winter vacation with me.” you nodded, trying to stay as positive as you can. “that’s true. i can’t help but to think my parents are trying to torture me or something,” you laughed, “they heard the words ‘shared hotel room’ and freaked out.” rafe shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “they did, right?” he glanced at the tv, the weather report still the same.
“yeah, but rightfully so i guess. could you imagine if we shared a room for two months?” you bit your lip at the idea. “it’s a good thing we didn’t tell them that we’d have a whole cabin to ourselves in december.” you shut your eyes for a moment, wishing so bad that you could speed up the time. “you need to come back to me already. i’m sad and horny.” rafe snorted at your words. “hey, at least we know we could have amazing phone sex.” before you could respond, you heard what sounded like ward in the background.
“come on, rafe. seriously man?” you gasped, shooting up from your bed. “rafe! i thought you were somehwere private!” your cheeks were on fire with how hard you were blushing right now. “tell ward i said hi.” rafe did as you asked, a muffled ‘hey, sweetheart.’ sounding on the other line. “wheezie and sarah there?” as if you could be anymore mortified right now. “nah, they went to a gift shop with rose.” thank, god. “well, i told lia that i’d go with her to the beach for a little, so i better start getting ready.” you put him on speaker, opening your drawer that had all your bikini’s in it.
“all right, i’m gonna let you go babe,” rafe sighed, “i’ll update you as soon as i find something out.” you chose a top, and grabbed a pair of jean shorts as you started changing. “okay. i’ll see you soon, love you.” you smiled when he kissed the mic. “i love you more, i’ll talk to you later.” you hung up, feeling slightly better after hearing his voice. it didn’t take you long to pack your beach tote, lia picking you up soon after.
you spent the rest of the day with your friend, both of you taking pictures and reading your books. “wanna stay the night at mine? i could really go for some pizza right now.” lia pouted as she pulled into your driveway. “i wish. i have to go to breakfast with my family tomorrow.” she put the car in park, looking at you apologetically. “oh, that’s right! it’s okay, hang tomorrow afterwards?” you grabbed your bag from the backseat. “for sure. i’ll call you when i get home.” she nodded, in which you waved. “hey! send me the pictures we took!” you shouted as she rode off.
“hey, guys,” you greeted your parents as you closed the front door behind you. they were curled up on the couch watching a movie. “hey!” your mom whispered, not wanting to wake your father who was resting his head on her lap. they always looked so cute together. “i’m gonna go shower. goodnight.” you walked past them, eagerly waiting to check your phone to see if you had any messages from rafe.
[2:32 PM] loml <3: still the same bs. i’ll try to call you again tonight
you gasped at the timestamp. that was hours ago. it was about ten o’clock now, and you were definitely feeling the effects of your activities today.
[10:02 PM] y/n: superrr sleepy rn, i’ll still answer if you call bb
you waited until the message delivered and quickly got in the shower. after washing your hair and rinsing yourself off, you changed into an oversized t-shirt and called it a night. you don’t know how long you’d been asleep for, but your eyes were fluttering open as you felt your bed dip beside you.
your heart dropped when you saw a dark figure looming over you, a loud gasp escaping your lips. before you could scream, a large hand covered your mouth. your eyes widening as you starting hitting the person against their chest. “baby, it’s me! it’s me!” you stopped as soon as you heard his voice, rafe’s hand slowly moving away from your face. “what the hell!” you whispered, immediately throwing your arms around him. “how are you here right now?” you reached over, turning on the small lamp on your nightstand.
the soft light barely did anything to illuminate the space, but your heart skipped a beat once you could make out his features. you stared at each other for a few moments before he took your lips into a searing kiss. “fuck, i missed you so much.” he leaned all his body weight on top of you, the feeling nearly bringing you to tears. “two months, rafe. never again.” you scolded him, letting him settle between your thighs. “my dad pulled some strings and we were able to come back today. just landed like an hour ago.” he could barely talk as he kissed you inbetween his words.
the reality of the situation made you stop, your body freezing underneath him. “what?” he looked at you confused. “my parents are here! how did you even get in?” you scrambled to get up, locking your door before you could get caught. when you turned around, rafe was laying flat on your mattress, a sliver of skin poking out from under his t-shirt. “my key. they were knocked out cold on the couch, so i just snuck up here.” he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes falling to your bare thighs. “you wearing anything underneath that?” you smiled before shaking your head and lifting up the hem of your shirt teasingly. “no.” rafe’s gaze darkened as he watched you straddle him.
“why?” his hands ran up your thighs, squeezing the flesh before they settled on your hips. you shrugged. “just wanted to be ready for you.” rafe could already feel his cock hardening with your words alone. “yeah?” he dragged your hips against his, your naked cunt rubbing against his shorts. “fuck,” you whimpered, letting your head fall to the side as you balanced yourself on your palms. “i missed hearing that. missed seeing you like this.” he took the shirt off of you, marveling at the sight of your bare figure on top of him.
“i want you to get yourself off on me,” rafe splayed a hand over your stomach, “wanna watch you move.” you grabbed his hand, placing his middle and ring fingers in your mouth, your hips grinding against him. “you’re so fucking perfect, ‘don’t know how i made it two months without you.” you moaned, sucking his digits while you started a steady rhythm. you knew you were overly sensitive because of how long it’d been without him here, but you couldn’t help the aftershocks that came with your clit rubbing against his hard on.
rafe groaned, knowing he wouldn’t last too long like this. while he spewed out the most filthy things you’ve ever heard, you sped up, desperate to reach the high you were so close to. rafe screwed his eyes shut, stopping you just before he could cum in his shorts. the sound of both of you trying to catch your breaths filtered throughout your room as you blinked down at him. “i was so close,” you pouted, clenching around nothing. “ride my face.” your eyes widened. “what?” rafe grabbed you by your waist, a yelp leaving your lips as he held you above his mouth.
you shuddered when you felt his breath fanning against the inside of your thighs. “are you su- fuck!” you cried when you felt his tongue where you ached for him the most. “oh my god, rafe,” he was quick to interwine his fingers with yours, holding you tightly so you couldn’t move away. this was new for both of you, but rafe was quickly realizing that watching you with your jaw slacked and greedily chasing his tongue with your hips was becoming his new favorite view.
he moaned against your soaked cunt, the slight vibration making your eyes roll back. “r-rafe!” your hips stuttered as you felt the sweet release of pure euphoria wash over you. rafe held you tighter against him, his tongue attacking your clit as you shook uncontrollably. two months of phone sex could never compare to the real thing, your breaths becoming labored as rafe laid you down. “i’m gonna fuck you senseless.” rafe kissed you, your wetness still on his lips as he did so. just as you pulled away, a knock sounded from your bedroom door.
“y/n, is everything okay honey?” your eyes widened as rafe took the opportunity to roll one of your nipples between his fingers, your face burying in his chest to muffle the moan that left your mouth. “i-i’m okay! just.. cramps!” rafe trailed sloppy kisses across your neck, smiling against your skin as you struggled to formulate a single sentence. “aw i hope you feel better, call me if you need anything, love.” you waited until her footsteps receeded down the hallway before you smacked rafe playfully. “you’re terrible!” you laughed.
he took off his shirt, his muscles on full display as he discarded his shorts. fuck, he was glorious. “yeah, but you love me.” you smiled as he slotted himself between your legs, shivering once you felt his cock sit between your folds. “i do love you.” rafe ran his fingers through your hair, caging you between his arms as he slid into you, a moan sounding from both your mouths. you stretched around him so deliciously, rafe’s head resting in the crook of your neck.
“is that my favorite body wash?” he looked up, pecking your jaw when you nodded. “something told me to use it tonight.” your eyes fluttered shut when rafe pulled out, pushing back into you as he hooked your thigh around his waist. “this is all i could think about over there,” he sighed, “i just wanted to feel this perfect pussy squeezing around me.” you mewled at his words, your nails digging into his shoulders. “did you think about me, baby?”
you nodded, your back arching into his chest. “fuck, yes. i missed having you on top of me, ‘missed taking your cock.” he groaned, lightly wrapping a hand around your neck as his pace sped up. rafe adjusted you so your head was resting on top of his arm as he kissed you roughly. his thrusts were unforgiving, soon the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your room. with the way the head of his cock was stroking that soft spot inside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care if you were being too loud. you started meeting his thrusts, your clit meeting his pubic bone.
“you’re doing so fucking good for me.” he panted, his breath fanning your cheeks. you wrapped your arms around his neck, crying out into his skin. “don’t stop!” he covered your mouth, shushing you as he fucked into you relentlessly. “i got you, baby. ‘gonna fill up this pretty cunt with my cum.” you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as you felt your second orgasm nearing. with a couple more thrusts, you found yourself falling over the edge, your climax hitting you in waves of pure ecstasy. “oh, fuck,” rafe’s jaw was clenched as he suppressed the groan that threatened to rip itself from his throat.
you reveled in the feeling of his seed spilling into you, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure as he continued to move sloppily. “fuck, i don’t think i ever came that hard before.” he removed his hand, allowing you to take a full breath. you sighed, curling into your boyfriend as he plopped down beside you. “i missed this the most.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing shapes into your side. you smiled softly, draping an arm across his torso. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe’s voice was hoarse, both of you yawning at the same time.
“me too,” you started, “i’m gonna go grab some water real quick, i’ll be right back.” he pulled you down for another kiss before letting you get up. you poked your head outside your door, slipping on a shirt and a pair of underwear before slipping out. you tiptoed down the stairs, walking into the kitchen where your mother sat with her laptop. “oh-” you smiled awkwardly, getting two water bottles out of the fridge. your mom looked up at you from her spot at the kitchen island.
“i take it that rafe is back from vacation? you’re lucky i left the volume up on the tv.”
1K notes · View notes
shockercoco · 3 months
Text
There We Go
Farleigh Start x reader
Warnings - 18+, fingering, overstimulation, drinking, farleigh being dominant when we all know he's not
Word count - 2366
a/n - this is my first time writing smut I wanted to give it a try, and it was hard for me idk how y'all do this lol. enjoy :)
Tumblr media
Last night, you had your hands in between your legs scrolling through videos trying to find the perfect one, while Farleigh was outside smoking with Felix. You and Farleigh have never had intimacy problems, it’s just you having a hard time asking for or initiating the intimacy – even Farleigh has told you several times before that he’s always willing.  You hadn’t gotten too far in your journey when you started hearing those familiar footsteps outside the bedroom door getting closer. You hurriedly took your hand out of your pajama shorts, switched apps, and readjusted yourself like you had been lying like that the whole time. Farleigh opens and closes the bedroom door, kicks off his slippers, and crawls under the covers next to you.
“Can’t sleep?” he asks as he lays his head on your stomach and you just hum in response.
So now here you were sitting in a pool chair underneath the hot Summer sun watching Farleigh, Venetia, and Felix messing around in the pool, and you can’t seem to control your thoughts – mainly because you never got to finish last night. You throw your sunglasses on and try to distract yourself with the book in your hands and hope you weren’t making yourself obvious to him,  even though you could care less what Jane Austen has to say at the moment. You take a peak over the edge of your book and notice Venetia is talking to Felix, Felix is leaning against the edge of the pool with his head towards the sky not seeming to be really listening, and Farleigh is now swimming towards you.
You cross your ankles as if he could sense or see the arousal growing between your legs while he pulls himself out of the pool leaving the bottom of his legs to dangle in the water. Water drips off of him onto the concrete surrounding the pool and also forms into droplets on his chest and arms. Your sunglasses are pretty dark so you’re pretty sure he can’t see you checking him out.
“Are you okay over here?” Farleigh finally looks at you with his own sunglasses covering his eyes, and places a hand on your ankle. He always randomly does this, but at the moment you’re not a fan. You clear your throat before answering.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you ask looking up from your book as if you had been reading it the whole time.
“Just asking since you normally start complaining about it being too hot if you’re outside too long,” he jokes with a shrug of his shoulders. “As if we’re not all hot.” He now starts caressing your ankle, which any other time you would love it, but now all you want to do is push his hand off.
“Excuse you, you complain more than me. Plus it’s not too bad right now, as long as we get to go inside soon,” you say, looking back down at your book and start pretending you're reading again. You hear him let out a laugh.
“We’re going out into town for drinks later, do you want to come?”
“You guys are driving all the way out there just to drink?” you raise an eyebrow at him.
“That’s what they suggested,” he tells you, referring to the two siblings still floating in the pool. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“No, no. It’s fine.”
“That’s the book I told you about, how is it?” he asks, still rubbing your ankle.
“It’s pretty good,” you answer not knowing what else to say and wishing the conversation would just be over.
“Where are you at in it?”
Oh my god.
You skim through a paragraph on the page and quickly paraphrase it for him. He gives you a look with a smirk on his lips, but with his eyes also covered in dark tint you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Or maybe he’s not thinking anything and you’re just overthinking. Once he eventually leaves you alone and goes back to swimming with Felix and Venetia, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.
Later that night when you all are at the pub, including Oliver who decided to come at the last minute, you’re no longer feeling like your head is going to explode. Well, you do, but that’s just because of how packed it is inside the pub. Everyone in the bar has to raise their voice to communicate with one another, but no one seems to care. The group is several drinks in and are talking about the most pointless things, especially Venetia who is asking Oliver what color she should dye her already fried hair next, but you’re still enjoying yourself. Not Felix though, since he declared himself the designated driver because he doesn’t trust anyone else driving his truck. You’ve only had a couple drinks since you were never a huge fan of drinking to the point of getting drunk. 
Farleigh, on the other hand, is on his way there along with the rest of them, and is constant with his nagging towards Oliver. You nudge him every now and then as a warning and he gives you an innocent look every time. Thankfully Oliver doesn’t seem to mind – or doesn’t make it obvious – that he cares about what Farleigh has to say.
When everyone has decided they’ve had enough, you guys make the drive back and blast music loud enough to sober up an alcoholic. Felix, Farleigh, and Oliver don’t seem to have any problem screaming their lungs out to it. Venetia complains about the music being too loud, probably because the music is ruining her buzz,  and you just shake your head in amusement.
Once you guys arrive back at the estate, and do a terrible job sneaking into the house, everyone goes their separate ways. Felix helps Venetia to her room, Oliver stumbles to his, and you and Farleigh make your way to your shared bedroom. You tell Farleigh you’re going to take a bath to which he asks to join, and you decline. He whines in response and plops down on the bed as you head into the bathroom with a laugh to start running the bath water. 
After undressing and climbing into the tub, you lean back and close your eyes until you hear familiar footsteps enter the bathroom. You open your eyes and turn your head to see Farleigh starting to undress himself. Someone’s obviously sobering up.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” you sit up, obviously knowing the answer.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he responds. 
“I thought I told you no,” you tell him as he gets down to his underwear and shimmies them off. 
“Yeah, but this way we’re saving water,” he smiles like it’s the best idea he’s ever had, even though he uses this trick every time, and for some reason you fall for it everytime. Plus it’s obvious the Cattons would never worry about something like water.
Farleigh makes his way over to the tub, all the while you’re trying to avoid eye contact with his slightly hard length causing him to smirk. You roll your eyes at him as you make room for him, and he climbs in behind you making the water level slightly rise. Once he’s comfortable, you lean your back against his chest, and he loosely wraps his hands around your waist.
His fingertips tickle your lower stomach, reawakening that familiar ache you had earlier at the pool and last night that you didn’t finish satisfying. You hope he doesn’t notice your breath catching in your throat. Feeling him against your back doesn’t help much either. 
“See, this isn’t so bad,” you hear him say in that playful tone of his. You elbow him in his stomach, and you hear him let out a small grunt. “Hey, did you notice Venetia flirting with Oliver the whole time tonight?”
“It was kind of hard not too, I feel like she gets hornier when she’s drunk,” you say as you start to gently move one of your feet around in the water.
“Well, duh, doesn’t everyone? I’m just surprised she did that in front of Felix,” he laughs and starts to lightly rub your lower stomach..
“Speaking of Oliver, wh-,” you start, but Farleigh cuts you off.
“We’re not.”
“Speaking of Oliver,” you try again, “why do you give him such a hard time?”
“Because he’s weird.”
“You’re weird, Farleigh,” you angle your body and turn your head back to look up at him. He gives your side a little pinch making you jump and let out a giggle.
“You know what I mean. Don’t tell me you’re growing a soft spot for him just because of those big blue eyes,” Farleigh lets out a scoff.
“No, I’m just saying to ease up on him a bit. You can be a little mean sometimes.”
“Well, I don’t trust him,” he shrugs.
“Farleigh-.”
“Can we talk about something else,” he cuts you off once again letting out a dramatic groan and throwing his head back.
“Of course. When we’re done with this conversation though,” you give him a forced smile. He looks down at you and gives you a little glare. “Just say you’ll be nicer, and we’ll be done.”
All of a sudden you feel the hand that was grazing your lower stomach dip lower, and you feel a finger start to lightly rub up and down your slit causing you to tense. You widen your eyes once you realize what he’s doing, your jaw falling slightly open.
“Are you trying to shut me up?” you furrow your eyebrows at him, and he gives you a smirk. “The audacity.”
“Whatever helps.”
“Farleigh, I’m serio-,” you try to get out, but he starts to rub circles into clit. You hold back a moan that threatens to spill out from the sudden touch, refusing to let him win, even if this is how you wanted your night to end in the long run.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“Farleigh-,” you try again, but this time he dips a finger in you causing you to let out a gasp at the intrusion, your eyes closing on instinct.
“Hmm?” 
You reach a hand down to wrap around his wrist as he curls his finger and starts to slowly pump in and out, but he uses his other hand to take it away and hold it. He adds another finger, still going the same deliberate pace along your walls on purpose to tease you. You bite your lip enjoying the stretch that his fingers bring, but still wanting to hold the noises in your throat back. Farleigh notices this and pushes his long fingers deeper into you, and then uses the hand holding yours to wrap around your waist holding you close to him. 
“If you want me to go faster, all you have to do is let some of those little noises come out for me,” he leans down and whispers into your ear. You love it when he does that, and he knows that, but you still didn’t want to break. “You know I saw you staring me down at the pool earlier.”
You knew it.
You feel his breath on your neck before he starts his trail of kisses making you clench your teeth. You make the mistake of looking down at his hand between your legs right as he finds his favorite spot on your neck, forcing a moan to accidentally slip out. You feel a smile form on his lips while they still attack your neck, and at the moment there’s a part of you that wants to strangle him, but you just give in to him.
“There we go,” he murmurs, and you finally feel his fingers speed up inside of you, causing your face to contort and lean your head back against his chest. He lets go of your waist using that hand to start rubbing your clit again, but this time rougher. This causes you to arch your back into him. If your body wasn’t submerged underwater, you guarantee you both would be able to hear your wetness with every movement.
Eventually, you feel your pleasure come to a powerful end, and Farleigh helps you ride it out as long as possible. You roll your hips into his hand until you’ve had enough, and just when you're about to motion for him to stop, Farleigh picks up a rapid pace forcing the water to start sloshing around. Your eyes widen and you let out a small squeal as you reach both of your hands for his wrist.
“Let go,” he says strongly.
“Farleigh,” you whimper, and it’s all you’re able to get out.
“Let go,” he says again, and this time you do. Instead you put one hand on his thigh and the other on the edge of the tub.
He continues his vigorous torture inside your cunt with you squirming and litterally gasping for air until you can both feel yourself gushing. But, of course he doesn’t stop there, not letting a beat pass. You bring your legs up to your chest with his hand still between, and he pushes them both back down. You let out a cry as he puts his legs over yours pinning your body to the bottom of the tub. It doesn’t take long for your third orgasm to come with a wail, and this time Farleigh stops.
Your heavy panting bounces off the bathroom walls as you finally have a chance to collect yourself, and Farleigh just chuckles from behind you. He slowly slides his fingers out and out of the water, but not before giving your clit a light tap, making you practically jump out of your skin.
“How are you doing down there?” he asks, as he wraps his arms around your waist. You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or genuine with your eyes closed, but at the moment you don’t care.
“Honestly, Farleigh, just stop talking,” you tell him, and he lets out a loud laugh that makes your body move against his chest.
787 notes · View notes
thetriumphantpanda · 3 months
Text
Take My Breath Away | Joel Miller
The Checklist - Breath Play
Tumblr media
Chapter Summary | It's the overthinking that makes it hard to ask for what you want sometimes, so you ask for the thing you want most in the only way you know how - in the heat of the moment.
Chapter Warnings | Again, and as always, porn without plot. Dirty talk, fingering, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, breath play (sexual choking), peeing after sex (pls do this), softness and lots of love. No outbreak AU. No use of y/n.
Word Count | 2k
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Authors Note | Oh my god what is this? Charlie finishing another series? I cannot tell you how sad I am to be saying goodbye to these two - they have turned into the two greatest loves of my life. Thanks are due to @vickywallace for sending this idea into my inbox in the first place - thank you for such a wonderful idea and for supporting this series! If you like this then please considering reblogging or commenting, it makes my life worth living! And if you'd like to support me further you can donate to my Ko-Fi.
A reminder that whilst this is part of a wider series, this can be read as a standalone if you wish.
Beautiful divider by @saradika
I no longer have a taglist, to keep up to date with my work, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.
Tumblr media
It started innocently enough. Joel’s big palm resting at your collarbone when he was inside you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. It was a fleeting moment, no added pressure, but there was still a shot of thrill that settled across you, one that made you think of that little list and the thought in the back of your mind that you wanted him to push his hand a little higher and press.
How to ask for it properly had been playing on your mind for a little while. It’s not like the two of you weren’t open with each other, you’d proved that already. And you trusted Joel with your life, you know he wouldn’t hurt you. But each night, when you sit together on the couch and go to open your mouth to talk about it, nothing happens. Mainly because it feels inconsequential to you, does it need a big conversation like some of the other things? You don’t think so.
It happens about a week later. Friday night, dinner eaten, glass of whisky drunk in front of the TV. Joel is settled on his back, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he reads a book, you’re similar, but you’re restless. You’re reading some romance novel, and like clockwork, the two love interests have just turned up to the hotel to find there’s only one bed. They don’t really hate each other anymore, and in his sleep, he’s rolled over and draped an arm over her waist, chest to her back, and she can feel how much he wants her.
You scoff a little, which pulls Joel’s attention from his own reading, to you, “That bad huh?” He asks, innocently enough.
“Just predictable.” You shrug, trying to hide the way your thighs are unconsciously rubbing together under the sheets.
“Lemme guess,” He says, setting down his own book, along with his glasses, “They hate each other, but also secretly they don’t, and they’ve just turned up to the hotel and they have to share a bed?”
You turn to him, chuckling as you look at the front and back cover, “Have you read this before?”
“No baby,” He chuckles, “It’s just they’re all the same, if it ain’t that then it’s somethin’ forbidden or she’s too happy and he’s too grumpy, just a lucky first guess.”
There’s a little more talking, and then the lights turn off, Joel turning on his side to fall asleep, but there’s that deep throb between your thighs that no matter what you do, won’t go away.
“Joel?” You whisper, poking at his arm, listen to him grumble but ultimately not reply, “Joel?” You whisper again, a little louder.
“Yes, baby?” It’s soft when he talks, not annoyed at you for keeping him awake.
“Joel, I need you.” You whisper once more.
You can hear the rustle of the sheets as he turns, then his arm wrapping around your waist, tugging you into his chest, that hand of his wandering down to cup your ass, “You feelin’ needy, baby?” He asks lowly, pressing kisses to your forehead and then your cheek until he’s kissing your mouth.
You roll onto your back, gripping onto his naked shoulders so he follows, the entire weight of his body on yours until he rests his upper body on his elbows, hands pushing your hair back from your face as he settles himself between your thighs. You can feel him, pressing against that part of you, already semi-hard and wanting, like he was struggling just as much as you to go to bed without touching you.
“You needy for me too?” You ask innocently as his lips press to your neck, he doesn’t answer, just slowly rolls his hips into yours.
There’s a moment where he reaches down between the two of you, lets his fingers brush over your folds, dipping down slightly to find you already wet. It’s not a surprise for either of you anymore, you think that there’s always some level of slickness settling between your legs whenever you see him - still not quite believing you get him all to yourself.
Joel drags his fingers up to your clit, slick dragging across your bud of nerves, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as he gently circles it. He’s taking his time, working you up slowly because he knows you don’t have anywhere to be in the morning. In a few minutes, you’re already moving your hips in time with his fingers, his mouth kissing your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin too. You’re clutching at his shoulders, nails digging half-moon shapes into his skin, when he pulls his hand away.
You’d complain until you can feel what he’s doing - his fist tight around his cock, moving up and down as he positions himself at the entrance of your cunt, tip nudging there as his mouth comes to cover your own. You’re just opening your mouth to him when he slips himself inside, slowly edging further and further inside you until he’s sheathed in your tight heat and you’re moaning into his open mouth.
He’s slow with it at first, a gentle drag of his cock in and out of you, like he’s got all the time in the world. Every time he presses into you, he moans into your mouth a little, sighs when he drags back out and it’s perfect, but you know you need more. You reach out, circle his big wrist with your hand.
“Will you…” You trail off a little, “Will you do something for me?”
He stills inside you, tip of his cock pressed so deep you could cry, “Anything for you, honey.”
“Will you put your hand on my neck?” Your voice is timid, and you’re glad you’ve kept the lights off.
There’s enough moonlight drifting in through the blinds that don’t close properly that you can still see him, but he’s shrouded in shadows too. He’s careful when he moves, pushing himself up to rest on one palm that’s pressed net to your head, the other hand being dragged exactly where you want it. He lets you rest it where you’re comfortable, just at the base, right above your collarbone.
“You tap my arm three times if you want me to stop, okay?” He asks, finally dragging his cock back out of you.
He puts a little pressure on with his hand when he thrusts back into you. The pressure is nice, but there’s something about it that doesn’t feel right, so you do exactly as he says, tap his arm three times. Joel is quick to take his hand off you, but you grab it quickly enough that he doesn’t have chance to rest it back on the bed.
“Try it a little higher.” You suggest, pulling it back so that the pad of his thumb and middle finger are pressed into the skin just under your ear.
“Like this?” He asks quietly as he repeats his movements from before, adding a tiny bit of pressure to your neck as he pushes back into your slick cunt, and yes, you think, exactly like that.
Joel keeps his hand pressed there for a few of his movements before he lightens the pressure on your throat, letting you catch your breath but keeping that wide palm resting right where you asked for it to be.
It’s a sensation you never thought you’d enjoy so much, but every time Joel’s palm tightens around your throat, there’s a rush to your brain and a throb between your legs. It’s exhilarating and there’s something about the way you trust him, literally with your life right now, to know exactly what you want and how to give it to you.
“You like that, don’t ya?” Joel rasps out above you, hips snapping into yours.
He releases the pressure from your neck again, just enough for you to be able to nod your head and bite at your lip to try and stop yourself from grinning. Joel brings the hand from your neck up to your mouth, uses the pad of his thumb to drop your lip from your mouth.
“I wanna see that smile baby.”
So you do as he says - caught in the dance of his palm pressing against your throat, your mouth falling into a grin each time, sometimes a small giggle leaving your mouth as you do, and then the release of the pressure, back and forth like that until you can feel that coil tightening low in your belly, your own hips bucking to meet his own, desperate to come apart beneath him.
“You gonna come, baby?” He asks, palm tightening once more, you can feel your walls fluttering around him, the coil pulled tight, you’re not going to last much longer, “That’s okay, I got you baby, just let go for me.”
It’s always been his voice that does it for you - the gentle lilt of that southern drawl, the way he’s always taking care of you. The coil snaps, his hand tightening just a little further as you arch up into him, much dropping open in a silent scream as pleasure floods every nerve ending in your body. You’re mildly aware of him talking you through it, showering praise over you as his own hips start to falter, hand finally torn from your neck, both of his palms settled on the mattress beside your head as he fucks you for real now.
The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room, Joel’s ragged groans mixed with your own squeals, not quite recovered from your orgasm. You reach your hands up, settle them on his sides and look up at him.
“Want you…” You choke out, “Come inside me, Joel.”
He groans, low in his chest, body shaking as his hips stop. He lets out a moan of your name as you feel his cock throb inside you, the familiar warmth of his cum spilling inside you. Joel’s body falls forward, crowding yours as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, mouth warm as he kisses you.
You both stay like that for a while, breathing heavy until you feel his softening cock slip from you. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him so you’re leaning against his sweat-slicked chest, fingers drawing patterns through the hair there.
Eyes filled with love, you look at him, give him a small smile as he brings a hand to your neck, tracing where his fingers had been pressing, “Looks red, baby,” His voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, “Was it okay?”
Taking hold of his wrist, you drag his hand up to your mouth and press kisses to his palm. The hand he has around your back drags you up a little and then he’s manoeuvring himself so his mouth can press kisses on the two finger marks he’s left on your skin. You think this might be the way you love him most, soft and sated, gentle and loving.
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” You whisper at him, “Stay right here okay?”
Joel reluctantly lets you go. You curse him every time you have to walk down the hall to the bathroom for not buying a home all those years ago with an en-suite, especially when, by the time you come back, he’s flat out on his back, lightly snoring.
You take a moment to stand in the doorway, look at him painted in moonlight. He’s beautiful like this, none of those worries he has etched on his face. You love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone before.
Padding quietly over to the bed, you settle under the sheets, draping an arm over his middle, your head pillowed on his shoulder. In his sleep, he pulls you further into his body, arm over your shoulder, other hand resting on the arm you have draped across his tummy. If this is what peace feels like, then long let it last.
412 notes · View notes
themotherofblood · 1 year
Note
Can I request a Daemyra X daughter reader. Readers really quiet and barely talks to anyone even her parents. So Daemon and Rhaenyra are suprised when she comes to them all hot and bothered babbling about sex and such. And she tells them she was reading in the library and found a book about masturbation or something and she tried to do it but it didn’t work.
Breastfeeding and of course mommy/daddy kink
heheh this one is so filthy, YALL did not hold back!! Just by description whoever is reading; you already know it’s taboo as fuck, I will post individual warnings under here. Istg if I get one single ask saying you are so disgusting. I going to wish you eternal diarrhea for life 🤍
Masterlist
Dark!Daemyra Targaryen x Daughter!Reader
major tw: incest! infantilism, lactation kink/breastfeeding. major mdlg/ddlg vibes. lots of clit play (LIKE A LOT) squirting, kinda dubcon-ish, age gap and purity culture and aftercare because I’m not a monster
If this isn't your cup of tea, I have others, do not come at me :)
Tumblr media
Rhaenyra had sat the court in her own chambers with her husband, Daemon looked behind her chair as they converted with their vassal lords at Dragonstone of politics and economical benefits and more mundane businesses of fixing toeholds and inkeeps. Their children undoubtedly had all been out dragon riding, all expect one. They were sure she was hidden somewhere deep in the libraries of Dragonstone.
You were one of true beauty, fathered by Daemon on some tavern wench; when he found out about your existence he had brought you back to Dragonstone as a babe after you had been legitimized by Viserys. A quiet mouse in the claws of dragons, a mere girl of eight and ten. You never said much or spoke over a whisper, an angel child with silver whisps of the Targaryen family. Rhaenyra had always been taken with you; her own children ran such a muck in her household that having one that sat still for hours at an end was a blessing by the gods.
“The Queen Alicent hopes to find a match for Lady Y/N,” The maester said hesitantly as he placed the parchment by Rhaenyra.
“Oh fuck that, she isn’t going anywhere.” Daemon barked.
Rhaenyra considered the possibility, you were old enough to be wed and yet she feared that your quiet demeanour would be squandered under the weight of a loveless marriage; Daemon was right, you could remain here where both Daemon and she could protect you. Such a sweet thing out in the world, it was cruel. The council dispersed as Rhaenyra lounged with a warm cloth on her swollen breasts, milk making them sore as baby Viserys had already been fed.
Then in walked Septa Marlow, her veiled face that remained pinched as always and her unkindly eyes looking furious as you- their sweet daughter followed behind with your eyes fixated on the ground.
“Your grace, your grace,” She offered her courtesies to both Rhaenyra and Daemon. It wasn't unusual for her to complain about the princess’s children. However your guilt-ridden face was a rare occurrence.
“What has happened?” Rhaenyra asked, looking to her teary eyed daughter.
“I had found the princess in the library reading- reading filth!” Septa Marlow hissed “Enganging in sin!”
“What sin?” Daemon perked up, rounding the table to lean against it
“Must- must I elaborate my prince?” Septa Marlow grew uncomfortable, fumbling to find words.
“You come in here, accusing my daughter of something. Speak it plainly then.” Daemon said, unimpressed at the the Septa’s chaste words
“She- she was coupling with herself.” Marlow looked as though she was ready to grace the gods. Rhaenyra’s eyes shot to you, tears of shame fell past your eyes as they remained fixated on the stone floor. You refused to look at your parents.
“Thank you for your report, leave us,” Rhaenyra commanded. The septa took her leave, closing the door behind her with a thud.
There was thick silence that followed, leaving the room in a delicate situation.
“Y/N, look at me.” Rhaenyra said, shuffling further into her seat. “What do you have to say for yourself.”
“I- I was looking for newer books,” You began stammering, your voice, as usual, was barely over a whisper “I couldn’t help it, I felt warm and the book said- I am sorry mother, I am sorry.” Your bottom lip wobbled as guilty tears coated your face.
Daemon’s eyes softened, looking at his little girl sobbing for apologies as if you had stolen candy, such a good girl and the poor thing had not a clue of why you felt what you felt. Daemon pointed to the vacant chair next to Rhaenyra for you to sit. You sniffled, still refusing to look at Daemon as you sat on the chair.
“You are growing sweet girl, it is only natural you feel such urges,” Rhaenyra cooed as she tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. Daemon knelt down to match your height, wiping at the tears coating your reddened cheeks
“No one shall punish my zaldrititos,” He said in attempt to stop your silent cries, you kept shuffling in your seat; yanking at your skirts and yet the fear- more so the discomfort from your face just wouldn’t fade “What is it, sweet girl?”
“I-it hurts,” You whispered as your eyes closed in shame again.
“What hurts?” Daemon asked once more, looking over your body to find any visible mark, if that hag of a Septa laid a punishment on you without him knowing; Caraxes was sure to have a fine meal for supper tonight.
“My- my...” You shuffled more, pulling at the skirts around your crotch, it was only then it dawned on Daemon before he looked back to his wife. His heart filled with fire for the girl’s frustrations.
“You didn't peak, did you zaldritos?” He said with adoration in his voice as he caressed your cheek. She looked up at him, teary-eyed and confused “That warmth in your belly like a sneeze stuck in your nose?” He watched as your eyes pondered his explanation before you shook her head.
Rhaenyra tutted behind him, “Oh, you poor thing.” She got up, offering his daughter her hand. You followed Rhaenyra as you were led into their bed chambers. She helped you onto their martial bed, your feet dangling of the edge as you fiddles with your fingers.
“Won’t you show us where it hurts?” Rhaenyra urged.
Daemon nearly felt his cock twitch in his breeches as his wife coaxed his daughter to rest against a mount of pillows. Daemon cleared his throat as he walked to the bed. His daughter’s eyes were nervously darting between him and Rhaenyra; your breath quickening as Rhaenyra pushed your pretty white sandals off.
“Good girl, just let mother take care of you,” Rhaenyra said in a sing song voice, she pushed your legs to the side; making you lift your hips to the bunch your skirts by your hip. Tears of embarrassment began to pour from your eyes yet again.
“Oh- that old hag didn’t even let you put your small clothes on,” Daemon shook his head, breath hitching as he looked right at the glistening mess in between your legs; he moved to kneel right by you as he urged Rhaenyra’s to console their daughter. “That does look painful.” He tutted.
Your pink bloom shielded by a dainty mound of white wisps, groomed to perfection to be a proper lady. He let a finger trail around your outer folds making you shudder. “Show kepa how you touched yourself.” He said stroking your inner thighs.
You nodded in disagreement, trying to hide your face at the crook of Rhaenyra’s neck as you sat flush between his wife’s legs.
“How are we to help you if you won’t show us sweet girl,” Rhaenyra kissed your temple as she guided your hands to your folds. “Be a good girl, show us.” Your dainty fingers began to hesitantly rub at her glistening petals.
You nearly wanted to be swallowed whole as you averted your gaze away from your kepa, small mewls and whimpers pouring from your lips that set both Rhaenyra and Daemon’s blood on fire. The frustration in their daughter's eyes grew further as your hips began to grind against your hand, a fruitless effort at best as your nimble fingers grew tired. He watched as her bottom lip wobbled again as angry tears began to flood at your eyes.
Daemon stopped your hand, his much larger one engulfing yours, fine little princess had not a clue about eliciting pleasures from one’s body.
“There is something wrong with me,” You whimpered to which Rhaenyra immediately differed.
“There is nothing wrong with our little girl, you just require a demonstration,” She cooed, reaching forward to wipe your tears. “Watch your father, he shall make it all better.”
Daemon made you stick two fingers out, your pointer and middle and gently placed them above where you had been caressing. You were confused until he pushed down on your fingers making you gasp, that’s where it was- the aching throb that bother you for hours as you read that God-forsaken book. Daemon smirked at your reaction as Rhaenyra placed more kisses at the side of your face
“Now gently begin again, darling.” Rhaenyra whispered in your ear.
“Yes, mommy,” You replied, much like as she taught you to write when you were little or took you dragon riding.
You began to rub the right circle above the please-inducing flesh, following the slow motions your father guided above your hands. Your toes curled, finding comfort in the gentle stroke on your arm and legs by three hands. You bit your lip hard to muffle the moans threatening to rip through.
“Ah uh- let us hear them little girl,” Daemon reached forward to pull your lip from you teeth. “That feels much better, does it not.”
You eagerly nodded “So good daddy.” You squirmed in your mother’s hold.
Both Rhaenhra and Daemon took much leisure in hearing you moan and whimper for them, a girl that barely speaks a word to them was wantonly moaning and replying to every word they uttered to you. A subtle panic ran through your body as you get that warmth build in you belly again, for whatever awaited you on the other end never seemed to come to you. Both Daemon and Rhaenyra felt your body seize.
“You must soften your body, just as you relieve yourself in the morrow.” She said, rubbing at your arms. You free hand parting away to take ahold of something, Daemon reached forward, entangling your finger in between his.
“Let go, zaldritos- be a good girl,” He cooed, some string in your mind snapped over your father’s command and you felt the tingles trapped in your swollen nerves spread through your body as you shrieked. Daemon hand held onto your tight as your body shuddered through it pleasures.
You could feel yourself look back to consciousness where everything didn't sound so muffled; you could feel your kèpa petting your hair and your muña peppering kisses down your neck. You blinked your eyes open, still breathing heavily, a lazy smile spreading over your lips her your cheek burned in humiliation over how you came undone for them.
“Must have felt so good,” Rhaenyra hummed as she lifted your fingers to her mouth and suckled on them before letting Daemon savour your taste.
“Mhmm, such a glorious delicacy,” Your father cooed at you.
You felt him shuffle lower, his breath hitting your sensitive mound as your eyes shot open. “So sensitive,” He used his thumb to gently circle your peaking bud from its hiding. He pushed your folds further exposing the reddened bud to the known world. “Such a tiny thing giving you all that pleasure,” He tapped at the exposed bundle of nerves making your jerk against Rhaenyra’s hold.
Daemon looked up, giving you a hardened gaze of a warning. Your father wasn't a strict man, and yet you always wanted to please him. You followed the rules, you finished your meals whole and went to bed at a proper hour; you under no circumstances wanted to anger him.
He let out a cool blow of air from his lips right onto your nerve, making you dig your hands into the sheets to not flick away from him. “It still looks frustrated, does it not Rhaenyra?”
“Yes, yes it does.” She agreed with her husband, letting her soft fingers pad at your nerves, you pathetically whimpered at how sensitive you were but did nothing to fight her advance. She began rubbing circles at your clit once more as Daemon rested on his knees, watching your untouched weeping hold clench and relax over the ecstasy you were in.
“Is your muña making you feel good?” Daemon asked, his fingertips still caressing your legs.
“kessa...Kessa!” You shrieked as Rhaenyra began to rub at your nerves faster, your legs tightened trying to fight the oncoming surge of sensations. The overwhelming sensations again began to water your eyes as you clothed onto Rhaenyra’s arm for dear life.
“Ah...there it is- such a good little girl,” Rhaenyra praised as your cunt spasmed, your legs shaking as your peak consumed your being yet again.
Daemon’s fingers yet again found your cunt, spreading your lips apart to admire your quivering little num, his fingers flicked at the flesh as you still recovered from the aftershocks of your second peak, you fought against them this time; your pussy was unable to take any more of this torment. Daemon pointed at you.
“Kepa deserves a turn, does he not?” He cooed, you still squirmed under his hold trying to wriggle yourself free “Whether you want it or not little girl.”
“One more riñītsos,” Rhaenyra kissed your cheek.
“Daddy- I will die,” You exaggerated, frightened tears spilling from your eyes as the tingles running through your nerves became far too over powering
“You won't die silly girl, kepa and muña will never let you die.” Daemon chuckled, Rhaenyra pushed forward to his down your abdomen as Daemon clutched a tight hold under your knees as he prepared to feast on his babyslut’s cunt. That quivering red little rosebud just begging to be in his mouth. He spat on your cunt before latching himself directly onto your bundle of nerves.
This time you screamed, the loudest anyone might have ever heard you in your lifetime. Rhaenyra consoled you, pampering your skin with her lips as she whispered words of encouragement in your ear. Just as a mother specified its child, Rhaenyra pushed the fingers she used in your cunt in your mouth; muffling your desperate cries as you suckled on them; tasting the sweetish sour slick on her fingers.
Daemon pushed your hood out even further flicking his tongue right under the hood, making you cry louder “Aw riñītsos, is that the very tingly part, is kepa licking your sensitive bit?” Rhaenyra shuffled the top of your gown down, letting your perky breasts spill free. She rolled your hardened pebbles in between her spare fingers. It was far too much, you were going due, you were sure of it. You tummy hurt from his hard you were clenching.
Daemon wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers in your untouched velvety core, yet he wanted your maidenhead unspoiled; something he planned on claiming him on a later occasion. Perhaps your forthcoming name day, he would pamper you old day just so he could watch your little body sob underneath him.
Daemon tapped at you clit “So tingly all over,” He piped, mocking your tears before rolling the nub in his fingers “We are making you feel so good, what do obedient ladies say sweet girl? What's the word?” He gently pinched at the red nerve. You were trying to muster the word at the tip of tongue yet couldn't over the incessant mocking.
“Aw, my love- her little nub is so red, our princess is so sensitive isn't she.” She pinched your nipples harder.
“What the word zaldritos?” Daemon laid a spank on your mound making you scream out the word over your mother’s fingers
“Thank you, thank you- krimvose,” You sobbed,
“Good girl,” Both Daemon and Rhaemhra praised in unison as kepa began rubbing at you clit harder before latching himself on one last time.
“So many tingles- I know, a few more,” Rhaenyra held on tighter to your thrashing “Oh dear- there- oh look at the mess riñītsos!”
Your peak gushed all over the bed, coating Daemon’s mouth as your eyes rolled back. Your chest rapidly rises and falls. You were dying, you were sure of it. Daemon and Rhaenyra at both smiled at each other triumphantly as their parental instincts took over.
Daemon lifted his tunic off his body, using it to wipe at your drenched thighs and mound and helping Rhaenyra off the bed and onto her cushioned arm chair before gently placing you onto her lap. He wrapped the two of your with a blanket before yanking the wet sheet of their bed and crumpling it to the floor.
Servants began to pour in to find a perfect picture of a family where a daughter took comfort in her mother’s arms before bed and the father readied himself for bed. He had them rekindle the fire for you, even with dragon’s blood running in your veins you were some how always cold. Only once the servants took their leave, Daemon kneeled at your level as both him and Rhaenyra fussed with your gown.
“You were so good for us riñītsos,” He cooed as he helped you stand, he yanked once more on your gown; letting it pool by your feet.
You rested your weight against him as Rhaenyra ran a warm watered cloth against your body, she reached in between you legs to clean and you whimpered
“I know, sweet girl. Almost done.” She coaxed.
“From now on, whenever you feel the tingles. You come straight to us zaldritsos.” Daemon said as he caressed your head against his shoulder, you lazily nodded “Words, my girl.”
“Come to you for tingles.” You mumbled.
Once all was said and done, Rhaenyra found a solution for her swollen breasts as you regressed further, she freed a breast from her sleep shift, opening her arms out in bed for you to lay in. You lazily latched at her nipple as spurts of sweet milk filled your mouth, you hummed; hungrily drinking from her as Daemon undid the bed curtains before joining his girls in bed. He picked out a book; one of your favourites for him to read out for you.
That night you dozed in between you parents arms, tummy full of milk as your mother cuddled your bare body from one end and your father from another.
It was an unsaid rule, parents never pick a favourite child and yet it would be written in history that their riñītsos was definitely the golden girl.
2K notes · View notes
burstinn · 2 months
Note
I need more krueger fics (anything) 👉😔
Stalker x Stalker
(Part 1/?)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
KRUEGER X M! READER
Notes And Warnings:
- Stalker x Stalker trope
- Stalking on both sides
- Masturbation and jerking off
1.To people without their awareness
2.To a dirty piece of cloth
- Sexual innuendos and thoughts
- NSFW
- no proofreading
- made in a short span of time meaning probably an hour or shorter so this is probably not the best way to yknow..
- made short on purpose because I got lazy
- This is a work of fiction made because I was bored, This should not be followed or replicated or else I will kill myself (>o<)
-made this cuz I didn't write for a good while and I felt bad
You don't know how this even started, He wasn't even acknowledging you the first time you guys met.. Was it his eyes? His accent? Maybe he reminded you of someone.. Shit you didn't care, you stopped caring for a long time now. It's an obsession at this point, You are hidden in your closet. You made a small hole inside of it like a secret room.. Just so you can keep trinkets and everything about.. Him.
Nothing but heavy breathing fills your cramped secret hole.. You need more pictures of him, this is getting out of hand, you're so desperate to feel him in some kind of fucking way it's unbelievable you held back for so long. Smelling one of the missing boxers of his wasn't enough to even satisfy you anymore.
Krueger, Sebastian Josef Krueger.. You scan your wall of pictures.. Pictures of him sleeping, working out, talking, eating, bathing.. Jerking off.. Those pictures were when you got lucky enough to take them and by God do you masturbate to those every night. Wishing one day you'd finally able to make him yours.. You know everything about him, His likes, his dislikes, his family, relatives, who he dislikes, what he does every morning and every night..
And recently you've only just started breaking into his room just to touch him, his face, tracing your finger tips against his jaw line, pressing your thumb against his soft lips.. Fuck,the thought of it makes you so hard.
But right now, you have a mission you need to attend to and the only thing that can calm your nerves is Krueger. Since you couldn't find him anywhere, Your shrine is the best place. You softly press your lips against one of the pictures of Krueger. One day, You will have the balls to actually try and talk to Krueger. You walk out of the closet, leaving with a slightly less grouchy mood. Hopefully the mission would go off without a hitch.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
You're gone, The helicopter you got in with your other mates had just left and he watches intently and carefully to see that you actually did leave. Once he sees the heli leave the vicinity he wastes no time walking over to your room.. Not without precautions of course he made sure nobody saw him walk in there.
Fucking finally, Your room empty.. Everything in this room is just you, Your clothes, Your pictures, Your bed, your dirty laundry.
Krueger can't help but feel a short adrenaline rush come over him as makes his way to your desk which was right across from your bed.. He shuffles for a moment under the desk, pulling out a small camera.. He can't wait too watch this later, he doesn't care if you were doing nothing, reading a book, scrolling your phone, jerking off.. He didn't give a single shit he was gonna jerk off to whatever was recorded here anyway.
He pockets the camera, walking over to your bed and just.. Smelling, hugging everything.. You are so intoxicating. How could you do this to him? He knew it was wrong but he was in love, more than in love. Why else was he doing this? He loved everything about you.
Even if this obsession started over nothing special he didn't give a damn, what happened, happened and he's in love with you.
He stands up and grabs one of your dirty briefs from the hamper, making his way back to the bed laying back down and slowly lifting your brief to his nose. Krueger flinches his body getting hot just by the smell of you, He could just.. He shuts his eyes keeping your boxers to his nose.. His other hand shuffling to unbuckle his belt. His hard cock almost immediately throbbing out when he pulls his pants and boxers down.
He rips his gloves out of his hand with his teeth, slow breaths. His mind drifting off to you, naked on your bed.. Your cock out and lonely, desperate for his touch. Bothof you just whining and grunting out his name as you rubs your cocks together, moaning in each other's mouth, your tongues fighting against each other..
He didn't even notice he already came, his cum staining his uniform and on your bedsheets.. Goddamit, He promised himself he was supposed to make sure to not cum on your bed this time. He takes a breath, pocketing your brief as well as he gets up, zipping his pants up.. He should clean this.
Next time he'll be careful, It's only a miracle he doesn't get caught in your room while your sleeping, jerking off to your sleeping figure.
161 notes · View notes
reverieaa · 1 year
Text
Feel.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Let me start off by saying this: stop trying to find something that will finally trick your mind into believing it to be real.
I recently got curious as to why we read so much on how to manifest and once we have all the knowledge we need, we seek more and more.
The more we read the more clueless and helpless we feel. These are things I think abt often, in order to make my posts as helpful as possible because I see what a lot of you struggle in.
First you seek your desires, and when you're told you should not seek your desires-you seek to not seek them. You seek the feeling and then you're told it comes from the state- so now you seek to feel the state.
You read this post that tells you you should understand how loa works and now you seek to understand.
This is because you feel yourself to be a certain way, and take it as the truth.
I sat with myself and started thinking about where I went wrong, why I feel so trapped and helpless when I have knowledge on everything I need to know and more I order to manifest?
I came to the conclusion that to me, a lot of loa posts teach manifesting and everything around it like a school book. Like the topic itself is beautiful, but when you try to explain it logically, it becomes boring and forceful.
You seek more information because the way it's given to you.
I came to the conclusion that I never liked the word "belief", it's what always stopped. It traps me into trying hard, repeating info until you get overwhelmed and bullying yourself when you sprial. Creating blockages by feeling like something is wrong with you.
I'm glad Edward art's recent video talks about this, and as he would put it; it creates a hell of your own.
When you think of belief, you think of I think of habit and something that's hardended and complex. When you think of habit you think of repetition, and then you go back to repeating affirmations until you spiral again and fall down.
Only to ignore being honest with yourself because you're afraid and deny yourself that care when you need it to the most
Let me make it clear when I say: your problem is not belief, it is feeling.
If you are looking for a step by step loa manifestation routine that will guarantee you your desires faster than the void, you're in the wrong place, and have the wrong idea.
It is then when you sprial. When you restrict yourself and logically try to make yourself strongly belief in your manifestation.
A lot of you have seen repeating lines from every loa blog, mabye you're tired of us saying that "imagination is the only reality" and " you are God and other than you there is none above " and wished we'd say something different, something that would help you, but what else is there??
What else is there more to say after discovering you are God and that everything is a reflection within you?? Nothing because it covers everything there is to know.
You only "fail to manifest" when you fail to feel yourself be God. Not believe yourself be God, FEEL yourself to be God, feel to be the only reality, when you fail to feel yourself be the only one in power, that is when you state comes forward and you dress yourself in it.
Please meditate on my words, and truly accept yourself to be the only one. I'm talking about feeling it to the bone, not just become aware and then go onto the next post, realize what this means to you. The rest follows you, as everything does.
If it's said that everything is taken care of, thay you need only to go to the end, be aware that as God it is already so, then what else is there to do other than accept and feel how it is?
You only need to give yourself permission to shamelessly feel yourself to be, and all the worries you had before will quiet down. Do not think about checking how much you believe you have your desires and actually enjoy what it's like already having them.
Don't try to believe, but feel.
2K notes · View notes
itsmealaiah · 3 months
Note
have this request for a Johnnie guilbert x reader
Ok yk that one audio that goes like "everyone is always connected"
What if Johnnie and reader are dating and are streaming and someone sends them a video of Johnnie's old vlogs let's say he's in target and he accidentally bumps into the reader and she's like
"bro tf watch out" not knowing they will end up together years later
absolutely!
Because we're connected
Tumblr media Tumblr media
tags: cursing, embarrassment, meet-cute
do not repost, copy, claim as your own, or translate. read only on this blog.
summary: the saying "everyone is always connected" proves to be more true than you wish it was.
a/n: istg when i first saw this i thought of that iron man scene where its him and the kid goes like "i'm cold" and tony goes "i know, it's because we're connected" 😭✋
Your POV:
Johnnie and you were streaming your favorite game together, laughing and joking as you both played. The atmosphere in your room was comfortable and cozy, with the warm glow of the computer screen illuminating your faces. As you continued to enjoy each other's company, you received a notification from one of your followers. It was a video link, and you couldn't help but wonder what it was. Curiosity getting the better of you, you clicked on the link.
The video started to play, and you immediately recognized the background. It was from one of Johnnie's old vlogs, back when he still did the "my digital escape" videos. You watched, feeling a mixture of amusement and nostalgia as he went about his day, visiting various game aisles and hanging out with his friends. But then, something caught your eye. There you were, standing in the background, talking to your friend about something you were both excited about, walking behind johnnie. You were wearing a black beanie, a blue hoodie, and a pair of black jeans, and you had your hair down. You were a few years younger, but it was definitely you.
Johnnie, on the other hand, looked just as you remembered him. He was wearing his usual outfit of a black long-sleeved shirt, grey sweatpants, and a pair of black converse. He was looking just as adorable as ever. As you watched the video, you could feel the warmth spreading through your chest, remembering the times you had together before you had become official. You turned to Johnnie, a huge grin spreading across your face.
"Hey, that's me!" you exclaimed, pointing to the screen. Johnnie turned his attention to the video, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw you. "Wait, that's you?!" he asked, a mixture of disbelief and amusement in his voice. You nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "Yeah, that's me and my old friend Amy. We used to come here all the time before we found our way to streaming," you explained, chuckling at the memories.
Just then, the video skipped forward, and you gasped as you saw yourself and Johnnie in the same aisle. He was oblivious to your presence, and before you knew it, he had bumped into you, sending your books flying everywhere. You spun around, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" you exclaimed, your voice higher-pitched than usual. "Watch where you're fucking going!"
Johnnie's eyes widened in surprise as he realized. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" he exclaimed, rushing over to help you pick up your books. You rolled your eyes and took them from him, your cheeks still flushed with anger. "It's fine,"
you muttered, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. "Just be more careful next time." He looked genuinely apologetic, his cheeks also now flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, really." he trailed off, gesturing to the empty aisle around you both. You let out a small huff, trying to compose yourself.
"It's okay," you said, finally meeting his gaze. "I should've been paying more attention too." There was an awkward silence that hung between you for a moment.
"So, uh," Johnnie stammered, trying to find something to say. "Do you, um… want to, uh…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely in your direction.
You felt a blush creep up onto your cheeks again. "I dunno," you said, shrugging, and left. The video clip stopped, and your eyes widened in embarrassment.
"Oh my God, that was so awkward," you laughed, shaking your head. "I can't believe I was like that." Johnnie laughed along with you, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's funny how things can change," he mused. "I mean, here we are, streaming together and all. Who would've thought?"
You looked at him, really looked at him. There was something about the way he smiled that made your heart flutter. You remembered the first time you had met him, how you had been so nervous to talk to him. But over time, you had become friends, and then more than friends. The way he would laugh at your jokes, the way he would support you through everything… it was just so special.
375 notes · View notes
c0s-lettuce · 2 months
Text
favourites - platonic!crowley x reader
gender non-specific, reader is a uni student, crowley is a father figure, implied platonic!aziraphale x reader
a/n: back from my hiatus to post this. it's been sitting in my drafts for a while. hope you like it!! <3
word count: 767
Tumblr media
You thought it'd be nice to surprise Aziraphale and Crowley and come home during the break. However, you hadn't imagined they'd be in the middle of another… unearthly situation.
Turns out the two of them have been harbouring the Archangel Gabriel, whom you had only met once. And whom the last you heard of was when he tried to kill Aziraphale.
But, love thy neighbour, you suppose.
On your way home, you thought it peculiar that the streets were wet despite the forecast predicting no rain. However, the weather is known for its unpredictability, so you shrugged it off.
When you arrived at the bookshop, you were met with a grumpy-looking Crowley who, to your credit, did look surprised to see you. He explained that Aziraphale, against his own wishes, had taken the Bentley to Edinburgh. And he ignored your comment about how he never lets you drive his car.
So, you stayed at the bookshop with Crowley. You caught a glimpse of your room upstairs. Your bed, your desk, even the chair Aziraphale insisted on having so he could read to you was still there, despite you telling him that you were too old for bedtime stories. Everything was in the exact same place you left it.
Except now, Aziraphale's copious amounts of books have taken up storage like stalagmites in a cave. And there was a strange, large man occupying your space. You decide to take refuge downstairs.
To pass the time, Crowley tells you about Job as you look through the book that Aziraphale had left out. He tells you about God's plan to test the faith of their favourite human, how he had free reign to ruin Job's life but ultimately didn't.
Crowley was always nice, you thought.
After hearing the story, you say, "It's a bit overly righteous."
"Well, we are talking about God," Crowley replies.
"Yeah, I know, but there must have been a better way." You try to think of an analogy. "What if I said, 'Oh Crowley, you're my favourite dad, but maybe you only like me because you have to'. And then I crash your car and set your plants on fire and… punch Aziraphale in the face to see if you'll still like me afterwards."
Crowley stares at you with subtle incredulity. You sense that he's about to say something judgemental.
But instead, he asks, "I'm your favourite?"
"What?" you reply.
"You just said I'm your favourite."
"…I was just trying to make a point."
"Oh, so Aziraphale's your favourite?"
"Who said I had a favourite?"
"Come on, everyone has a favourite parent."
"Well, I don't."
Crowley stares at you even more, waiting for you to break. But you seem successful in holding your ground.
"Alright, whatever," he gives in. "And I do like you, by the way. Not just because I have to."
"Hah, I knew it," you give him a big smile.
"Just don't crash my car or do any of what you just said."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
He smirks back and continues, "I agree with you about the whole Job situation, too. So does Aziraphale. That was the first day the two of us were truly on the same side."
"Our side," you say.
"Exactly," Crowley nods, "Though we hadn't realised it at the time."
You watch as Crowley smiles to himself. It reminds you of the nights in your room when Aziraphale would abandon whatever book he had picked and tell you a story of him and Crowley instead.
You find yourself smiling too.
But a crash from upstairs ruins the moment. It's Gabriel, or rather, Jim.
You sigh and ask, "Did Aziraphale have to give him my room?"
"No, but I suppose he wanted Gabriel to be comfortable for whatever reason," Crowley shrugs.
"What if he's touching my stuff or something?"
"He probably is. Might be breaking a few of your things, too."
You cringe at the thought. "Would it really hurt you to try and make me feel better?"
"What, you want me to lie to you?" Crowley asks.
"You are a demon, aren't you?"
"Retired, technically."
Unable to think of something to respond with, you turn your sights to the street through the window, wondering when you'll see the Bentley return.
"Hey," Crowley grabs your attention again, "This will all be over before you know it. Then I'll let you and Aziraphale drag me to whatever dreaded place you both wish."
You aren't sure how true that is. Or how much trouble Jim will really be for them.
But for now, you just smile. "Sounds like a deal."
98 notes · View notes
sadprose-auroras · 7 months
Note
hiiii i was wondering if i could make a request for a hazel x reader where reader is beaten up by someone not from fight club and hazel gets really protective and rounds up the rest of the club to retaliate
Hey, thank you for your request! Sorry it took a hot min, this one took on a life of its own. Not sure how I feel about it tbh, but please let me know what you think! xx
Content warning: targeted violence, themes of bullying, cursing
Word count: 3.7k
You were well aware that Jeff, star quarterback, most popular guy in school, widely celebrated asshole, completely had it in him to take his bullying way too far. You couldn’t ever forget the first time you saw him beat somebody to a pulp.
It was eighth grade, and you were an awkward, shy thing, just trying to navigate schoolwork and friendships. To put it simply, you were figuring out who you were and your place in the world. There were so many questions swirling around in your head. Why did you feel an immense swirling sensation in your tummy when your classmate, Hazel Callahan, would sit next to you in class when nobody else would? Was it normal to be so deeply enamoured by the clothes she wore, her hairstyle, her school supplies, so much so that you would try and emulate an outfit she’d worn, to beg your mom for a haircut like hers, to buy the same pencil case she had, just because she was the coolest person you knew? Reflecting back, of course, you had a crush on her, and didn’t know how to express it. But at the time, you thought you just really wanted to be her best friend and not leave her side for a moment.
At this awkward pre-pubescent stage, Jeff and all his football buddies seemed to be way older, more mature, and you were terrified of them. Jeff, especially. He had always been a bully, shoving kids out of his way in the school halls and calling people derogatory names. But he only seemed to be getting worse. And every time you passed him in the hallway, your heart was in your throat as you kept your head down and walked faster. Was this the time he was going to target you?
One day, you were in the schoolyard, sitting on a bench with Hazel chatting about a book that Hazel had lent to you. One that, to your surprise and deep excitement, included two of the girl characters sharing a kiss on the lips. Vampires, at that. You thought that was the coolest thing ever. You’d read that same passage over and over, enthralled at that even being a possibility. It had crossed your mind that you really wanted to kiss Hazel like that.
“So… did you like it?” she asked with an expectant smile. You nodded incessantly.
“Oh my god, it was AMAZING! The vampires were SO cool, Kali and Anna were my favourite characters by far! I wanna be a vampire,” you gushed, flushing a deep shade of red when Hazel giggled.
“Dude, I knew you’d say that!” she said. “You so don’t wish you were a vampire, you love the sun!” You laughed and shrugged. She was completely right.
“You know me well, Haze,” you laughed.
“Hey?” Hazel asked, chewing on the end of the straw on her juice box. She looked nervous.
“Hm?”
“I have to tell you something.” Your heart started going a million miles an hour.
“What is it?”
“Well-“ before she could finish, a commotion out of the corner of your eye caught both of your attentions. You whipped your head around to see a large group gathered around two people on the floor. It was Jeff, holding down a kid and punching him. Over. And over. And over. You quickly realised it was a boy in your English class, Thomas, who you’d never really talked to but was a shy nerd like you. He seemed nice; he had lent you a pencil once. To your horror, he didn’t even seem to be moving. And Jeff was cackling. Maniacally.
“Oh god, what do we do?” you asked frantically. “We should get a teacher, right?” Although there were a bunch of kids cheering him on, it didn’t feel right.
“Yeah, come on!” Hazel said, grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her as you rushed off together to find a teacher. You couldn’t tell if it was the handholding, or the life and death situation, that was giving you more adrenaline.
------------------------------------------------------------
Now that you were all seniors, you were only more terrified of Jeff. He had never targeted you, luckily, but you had witnessed his increasing violent nature towards many of your other classmates. As for Hazel, the vampire book situation all those years ago had been somewhat of an awakening for you; you were totally, completely in love with your best friend. You never, ever told her though, your fear of rejection outweighing anything else. The closest you got was telling her you liked girls when you were having a sleepover for your sixteenth birthday. There was something about sleepovers that made you feel like you could talk about things you usually weren’t brave enough to. To your delight, she told you the exact same thing moments later.
Shockingly, you and Hazel had finally branched out and spoke to people besides each other. Your other friends, PJ and Josie, made you a perfect little foursome. You had bonded over your respective codependent friendships. You first heard about the fight club when PJ and Josie told you and Hazel over lunch that they had created a self-defence club to sleep with cheerleaders.
“We’re teaching them how to defend themselves, next thing we know, Isabel and Brittany are kissing us on the mouths!” PJ addressed Josie, flailing her arms around.
“Can we join?” you asked, then realised how that sounded, laughing. “I mean-“
Hazel squinted at you from the sun, furrowing her brows in confusion. Your heart skipped a beat; her eyes particularly sparkled in the sunshine.  
“You want both of us” – she pointed back and forth between herself and you – “to join those two” – she gestured at PJ and Josie – “in kissing Brittany and Isabel!?”
“No, no,” you say quickly. “The club. Can we join the club?”
“Yeah, sure!” Josie said.
“I mean, I guess, except we don’t want the losers to outweigh everyone else. No offense,” PJ says, and you shrug, entirely not offended.
“You’re not wrong,” you chuckle. “We are decidedly losers.”
------------------------------------------------------------
Despite the murky intentions PJ and Josie had for starting the club, it began to take on a life of its own. The mismatched groups of girls really began to bond, and you found yourself emotionally fulfilled in a new way that you hadn’t really experienced before. Being able to talk about deep things with a group of girls you knew had your back, and vice versa, was life changing. You noticed a significant difference in how you felt at school. Before, you were on edge most of the time and relatively lonely in a lot of your classes. Now, you had people to sit with, to say ‘hi’ to in the hallways. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders that you didn’t know existed.
One evening after a particularly long club meeting, you were the last one to leave, packing up after everybody else had left. You were humming to yourself as you worked, the warm feeling you had inside from hanging out with your friends still lingering. It was ironic how beating each other up brought you so close. Once you finished, you left the gym, backpack slung over your shoulder and keys in hand as you walked into the carpark. You noticed a figure moving in your general direction out of the corner of your eye but didn’t think much of it; there were lots of people still around school, coming out of their extracurriculars. Just as you had unlocked your car, the footsteps neared, and you whipped around to be met with Jeff standing over you threateningly. You gulped.
“May I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as not to show how terrified you were of him.
“Yeah, actually,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve had enough of your little girls group taking attention away from football. You’re all over the school, and it’s done. You’re all done.”
“I don’t know what you expect us to do,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” You shoved him away, going to get into your car. Before you could, he reached out and pushed the door closed.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and your heart sank.
------------------------------------------------------------
The first place you thought to go after Jeff beating you up was Hazel’s house. You practically sped to get there, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body. As you pulled into her driveway, you let out a sigh of relief noticing that her mum’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Barely stopping to take off your seatbelt before rushing out of the car, you ran up to the door and rang the doorbell twice in a row. It didn’t take long for you to hear footsteps, and the door swung open to Hazel dressed in sweatpants and a cozy jumper. She murmured your name, eyes scanning your face with concern.
“What happened?”
Without speaking, you practically fell into her arms in a hug, only crying harder. She engulfed you with her arms, stroking your hair comfortingly.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she whispered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You hiccupped, pulled away from the hug and wiped some tears from your eyes with your sleeve.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You wordlessly took Hazel’s outstretched hand, following her to the bathroom. You hoisted yourself up onto the sink, swinging your legs. Hazel started collecting supplies: damp cloths, antiseptic, band aids, bruise ointment. As you watched her, face deep in concentration as she murmured to herself about what she needed, you felt a surge of love for her.
“Thank you,” you whispered, voice dripping with sincerity. She looked at you funnily as if to say, you don’t need to thank me, don’t be ridiculous.
“Okay, I’m just going to-“ she said gently, stepping between your legs and beginning to gently dab the blood off your face. As she worked, you watched her, suppressing tears at the realisation that you couldn’t feel any safer and protected with her by your side. God, you loved her. As she applied antiseptic, she shook her head in disbelief.
“Who did this to you?” she asked, visibly seething.
“Jeff,” you said quietly, lip quivering. Steam practically blew out of Hazel’s ears. Her movements ceased for a moment, and she pressed her lips tightly together.
“He deserves to die,” she said matter of factly.
“I don’t disagree,” you murmur.
“Hey?” you ask, making eye contact with her. You realise how truly close your faces are, and your heart rate increases rapidly. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep your composure.
“Can I stay here tonight, please?” you ask, desperately trying to suppress the urge to be embarrassed. You just really didn’t want to be alone.
“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” Her voice was so gentle, you practically melted.
“Thanks, Haze,” you said, as she finished cleaning you up.
“All done,” she said, beginning to pack away everything. You hop off the bench, taking the painkillers and water she hands you gratefully.
“Thank you,” you say as you pop the tablets into your mouth and swallow them with a big gulp of water.
“Stop thanking me,” Hazel chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You followed her to her bedroom, suddenly feeling unusually nervous. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t slept in each other’s beds before. Sleepovers were a major part of your friendship when you were younger, and more recently were particularly convenient when you got a little too drunk to get home. Perhaps there was something about the added layer of vulnerability to your state that was making you feel shyer with your best friend. As you contemplated this, shuffling back and forth on your feet, Hazel retrieved a soft t-shirt and shorts for you to wear to bed. She threw them at you, and you caught them with a soft smile.
“Thanks, dude.” You moved into an alcove in the corner of her room, turning to face the wall as you heard Hazel shuffling around, presumably getting changed as well. You desperately fought the urge to turn around, unsure if the tension in the room you could feel just at the thought of you both getting changed at the same time was in your head. But you swore, you could feel it. You pulled Hazel’s shorts up, tying them at the waist and trying to ignore the fact that the t-shirt she had lent you smelt like her. Although it was difficult not to. You folded your clothes, placing them on a chair, then turned around to find Hazel in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top, sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone.
“You look cute,” she remarked in an indecipherable tone, and you couldn’t entirely tell if she was joking or not. Since eighth grade, you’d definitely developed your own style apart from Hazel’s, and her clothes on you were not your style at all. You poked you tongue out at her, as you walked over and got under the covers, snuggling down. It was easier to fall back into your friendship as it had always been in those moments, where you were unsure if she was feeling the same way. Otherwise, you might have to actually confess your own feelings, which was completely terrifying.
Hazel followed your lead, placing her phone down on the nightstand and pushing the covers back so she could get in, pulling them up to her chin and turning over to face you. Your heart skipped a beat.
“Thank you for everything, Haze,” you said, shutting your eyes. If you looked into hers for a second longer you might actually explode.
“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered, so softly you could barely hear it. Before you knew it, you were drifting off.
------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning you awoke to sun pouring in the curtains, and you slowly opened your eyes, stretching your back and yawning. Despite the events of last night, you actually slept better than you had in weeks. The pain in your face had subsided a lot already. You rolled over to face Hazel’s side of the bed, heart sinking when you found it empty. Confused, you rolled back over and reached for your phone, touching the screen. Realisation flooded in. It was 9:00am on a Thursday. A text from Hazel was waiting for you, which she had sent half an hour earlier.
morning! i let you sleep, hope that’s okay. wasn’t sure if u were gonna go to school today. text me if you need anything <3
You smiled softly to yourself, eyes focused on the heart she sent a little longer than necessary. You quickly replied.
Thank youuuu, needed that sleep in. I think I will come to school, I’ll see you for second period probs xx
After hitting send, you got out of bed, making sure to make it neatly before deciding to go and quickly take a shower. After you stripped out of your clothes and waited for the water to warm up, you took a moment to examine your face in the mirror. It felt significantly better than last night, as if Hazel’s touch was magic. The bruising around your eyes was starting to come out, you had a small cut on your cheekbone, and the eye that you could barely open last night was much less swollen. You stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to relax your muscles with a sigh.
Little did you know, as you were sleeping that morning, Hazel had called an emergency meeting of the fight club. She was on a mission, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her. All she kept seeing in her mind’s eye was your face when you showed up on her doorstep, beaten and bloody, sniffling, eyes brimming with tears. To see you like that, the person she loved more than anyone in the world, shattered her heart. She had to get revenge, and she needed some help.
“Are we all clear on the plan?” Hazel asked, looking around at the group. It felt strange for the whole club to be there with you missing; she certainly noticed your absent presence. Normally, you’d be next to her, sitting cross-legged, and tapping your fingers on your leg like you do, exchanging glances with Hazel when something funny happened. She basically ached at the thought.
“Let’s fucking do it!” PJ yelled, banging the handle of a broom on the ground. Everyone else cheered and clapped in agreement.
“Let’s kill him,” Isabel said, narrowing her eyes with determination. She had her own reasons to want to do this.
------------------------------------------------------------
By the time you pulled into the carpark at school, the bell was just ringing, indicating the end of the first period. You weren’t going to lie, you were nervous about running into Jeff, but you prayed that there were enough people around during the actual school day that he couldn’t get you again. Just as you stepped out of your car, you heard a commotion coming from behind you. You frowned, swinging your backpack over your shoulder to follow the noise of people shouting.  Rounding the corner to the other side of the carpark, your hand flew to your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes.
Hazel, along with all your friends from fight club, were stood over a football-uniform clad guy on the ground, who you couldn’t see from your angle. As other students had gathered around to watch, whooping and cheering, your friends were taking turns to punch, kick, stomp on, and slap the guy on the ground.
“THAT’S FOR CHEATING ON ME WITH MY SISTER!” Isabel cried out, kicking hard. That’s when it dawned on you; the guy on the ground, who was barely moving, unable to get out of the girls’ grips, was Jeff.
“THAT’S FOR Y/N!” Hazel yelled, in a voice you had never heard her use before, swinging both of her fists down hard on Jeff’s face multiple times. You approached the group, pushing past the onlooking crowd. You couldn’t believe how many people were supporting this. The way Jeff was thoroughly worshipped in school was obscene. Perhaps everybody was just waiting for someone to get back at him first. You approached your friends, taking a deep breath to yourself. They all turned to look at you as Josie was kicking Jeff in the head blood dripping from his mouth. Isabel was watching on proudly. You placed your hand on Hazel’s shoulder, and she spun around.
“Hey,” you murmured, smiling softly.
“I-uh-“ she began, as if she was about to explain herself, then you shook your head.
“Can I get in on this?” you asked, and she visibly relaxed, grinning.
“You’re not mad?”
“Fuck, no! You’re so brave for doing this, to be the first to give him what he deserves.” With that, you turned your attention to the guy lying on the ground, smiling at the sight of him groaning, bleeding, looking like absolute death.
“Hey, remember me?” you asked, before bringing your fist down on his face. Hard. And then again. And then again. And once more. Your friends, as well as the crowd watching on, cheered you on. The last punch you threw caused Jeff’s head to fall to the side as he passed out. You stood up proudly, looking around at your friends.
“I love you guys,” you grinned, and you all engulfed each other in a big group hug, all congratulating each other and saying how much you all loved each other. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Hazel’s hand resting on the small of your back. You all pulled away, and as everybody fell into chatter you grabbed Hazel’s hand and pulled her with you away from the crowd.
“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh, awkwardly trailing behind you in a half jog, half walk.
“Here,” you said breathlessly, stopping when you rounded a corner to a quiet spot.
“Thank you for protecting me.” Your voice was still breathless, your head spinning with anticipation. It was now or never. Before Hazel could respond, you leant against the brick wall of the building behind you, pulling her toward you by her waist. She cupped your face, and your lips met. Desire pooled in your stomach as your lips slotted together perfectly, moving together in sync. Her lips were way softer than they looked, and you had spent a lot of time looking at them.
Hazel pulled away slightly, and you instinctively chased her lips. She smirked, eyes scanning your face. You flushed deeply.
“Oh my god,” she said in that voice that made you want to melt into the floor, and you laughed in disbelief.
“I know,” you whispered before kissing the corner of her mouth. She smiled at this, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes. If it was anybody else, you would feel insecure about your swollen eye and bruised face, you would worry that you weren’t attractive, but it didn’t cross your mind once with Hazel. She made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.
“I didn’t know-“ you both started to say at the same time, then giggled. You were literally giddy.
“You go,” you said.
“I didn’t know you liked me.”
“I didn’t know you liked me,” you replied, laughing.
“Do you remember-“ Hazel started, then cleared her throat. “Do you remember that book I lent you in eighth grade about those gay vampires?”
“That was literally my gay awakening,” you said with a laugh, unable to believe that she remembered that. “Wait, what does that-“
“I’ve been in love with you since then,” Hazel suddenly said, and your heart caught in your throat. You pulled Hazel even closer to you by her belt loops, and she gasped. You kissed her more passionately this time, your head spinning.
“I’m in love with you too,” you murmured when you pulled away, foreheads resting together.
322 notes · View notes
reareaotaku · 28 days
Note
oh my god, prt 2 of School Girls????? You can't leave me liek that
OOH??? Of course! Man, wow
Part 1: School Girls
Summary: You've been staying out of Miles' way, to avoid anymore of his treatments, but it only makes him seek you out more Pairings: Bully! Yandere! Miles Fairchild x Fem!Reader TW: Bullying, Harassment Taglist: @tomhockstetter7-111 [Might make a part 3 that goes more into the NSFW part. If I do do a part 3, it will pretty much immediately go into NSFW territory]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You hated him. If there was a hell, he'll surely rot there when he finally croaks. Speaking of the devil, you could feel his glare from across the courtyard. When you looked up from your notebook, you could see him staring at you- Well, staring might not be the right word. He had a strange look on his face- One that was so disconnected from the real world.
You had figured he targeted you because you didn't have any friends, but he didn't either, because of his 'anger issues'.
You stood up from your spot and wiped your skirt. You looked back at him just to see if he was still watching you; He was. You turned away from him and headed inside. You couldn't stand his stare anymore, you needed to get away and you knew the perfect place; The roof.
The janitor had left an extra key in his storage room and you had found it when being locked in there by Miles for something stupid. You were mad at first, but when finding the key, you realized this was the best thing to happen, since he couldn't go there.
You rushed up the stairwell-the same one Miles had cornered you in that one time- and quickly unlocked the roof door. When it clicked open, you slammed it shut and locked it again before smirking to yourself. There was a small part of you that wished you could see his face when realizing he couldn't get to/find you.
You went to the side of the exit, leaning on the wall. If someone would enter the roof, you'd be able to see them before they see you. You moved your bookbag to your feet and grabbed a book '1989' by George Orwell.
You hated the book. The main character, Winston, reminded you of Miles in the way he acts- Though the book wasn't necessarily about how terrible Winston was but more about absolute Government control.
But that's unimportant. You were alone now and you could read the book for your English class. It was strangely peaceful; If you didn't have the book, you'd probably take a nap up here or something. It was nice... for the first time in a long time.
---
Miles' nose scrunched up as he scoped the courtyard. His little attraction had disappeared half an hour ago and he wasn't able to find her and it was starting to piss him off. Then a thought occurred to him... What if she was on the roof?
He had overheard the headmaster and janitor talking about a missing key to the roof. The key the janitor kept in his closet- the same one Miles had locked her in. But, if she was on the roof, there was no way for him to get up there, because it was padlocked; Hence the need for key.
He could tell the headmaster, but that could lead to two things; The headmaster not believing him or Y/n getting suspended. The last thing he wanted was her to be kicked out of school for a week, hell he couldn't even stand 30 minutes of her being gone.
But he needed to get up there. He needed to let her know that she couldn't escape him. That he was always watching... always there. But as of now she probably thought she was safe and the thought made Miles' face scrunch up into a heavy glare.
---
The sun was starting to fall and curfew was coming, so you knew you had to go back to your dorm. Thankfully you had finished the book, but just had a few more annotations to write. Though, you could just come back tomorrow and finish it.
You stand up and wipe your outfit, before pulling the key out of your pocket. You sigh, feeling relaxed, before turning the handle and slowly closing the door behind you. Though your happiness was short lived.
"I didn't know you were such a troublemaker, Y/n."
You could feel your stomach drop and your body froze when hearing the voice.
"What? Can't turn around and face me?"
You were hoping if you didn't move, maybe he'd go away? You held your breath, hoping it was dark enough that he couldn't see you.
"You have nothing to say?"
You turned your head slightly, "What is there to say?"
"Oh, so she does speak? I was worried for second."
You chuckle. "No, you weren't."
"What makes you think that?"
You turn around towards him. You could barely make out his face, but his eyes bored into yours. Dark and cold just like him. It's like he could see every secret that you hid. You could see his silhouette just fine and you were sure he could see yours.
"If you weren't such a bitch, you'd be a beautiful girl."
"If you weren't evil, you'd be an attractive man."
He frowned at your words, causing you to smirk. You could see the frustration on his face. He pulled your hair back behind your ear, before caressing your face. It was strange for him to be so gentle. You didn't like it.
You grabbed his wrist and pulled him off. "It's past curfew."
"Yeah... It is."
---
Your bed felt hard under your body. It was like it had never been used. It was strange. You felt as if you didn't belong. Maybe it was because you didn't. Because you weren't in your bed- Hell you weren't even in your room. You were in his. Though why? You felt the bed dip and looked towards the man of the hour. Why were you here and what was going on?
119 notes · View notes
hoedamn-eron · 1 month
Text
bluey!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nathan discovers your son’s favourite show.
Warnings: As always, Nathan is a warning. No offence to Miss Rachel or anyone who uses Miss Rachel (I’ve personally never watched her, just needed Nathan to be a dick). Hints of infertility (from this episode of Bluey). Teeny tiny mention of parental anxiety of meeting milestones (from this episode of Bluey). Not proofread this time. Word count: 1,238 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.
Yet another self indulgent fic about dad!Nathan. Set in the same universe as Shut Up, Kid, but can be read as a stand-alone. This also was only meant to be a quick one shot but it turned out to be over 1k 😂.
Tumblr media
Nathan Bateman was a fucking genius.
He built the code for Blue Book when he was thirteen years old.
He used to think himself a God. He could build realistic androids, for Christ's sake (not anymore, not since ‘The Incident’).
And because of this, he finds it hard to ‘switch off’. His brain was always moving a million miles a minute, constantly filled with thoughts of how to improve the company, and now that he’s a dad, it just added another thing to think about. And he isn’t complaining about having to think about Silas – he loves the kid, would do anything for him – but at the same time...it is just another thing to keep his brain busy.
Like today.
You come walking into his office (the door is open most days now), holding Silas on your hip, his favourite pacifier in his mouth, and carrying as many toys as you could in your other hand.
“Can you watch him for an hour, please?”
You see Nathan’s shoulders slump before you’ve even finished asking, and you ignore the spark of irritation that sits uncomfortably in your chest as Nathan turns his chair to look at you. You know he’s busy, but you’re busy too; you’ve been called in for a virtual meeting, on your maternity leave, no less, with the department heads – you know they wouldn’t appreciate a noisy baby in the background (despite the fact you want to make a point that they requested you...on your maternity leave).
Besides, Nathan doesn’t have any tight deadlines right now. He’s the CEO, he can push anything back whenever he damn well pleases anyway.
“Nathan, he’ll just sit and watch his TV show for a bit, it’s only an hour.”
Nathan sighs, and you tense at it.
He makes a mental note to make up for it later.
“Okay,” he says, and without looking at him, you walk over to the rug in his office, sitting Silas down on it before placing the toys around him, in easy reach for him.
You turn on the TV and place Bluey on, before walking over to Nathan’s desk and placing the remote on it. You give a swift, “See you in an hour,” before hurrying out to make your meeting.
Nathan gives a quick look to Silas, who – in your defence – was still, watching the TV, sucking away on his pacifier. Satisfied, Nathan turns back to his computer, his eyes drifting over to Silas every now and then before turning back to his screens. The noise from the TV fades into the background, until one particular line jumps out at Nathan.
“Magic Claw has no children. His days are free and easy.”
Nathan huffed a laugh through his nose. He couldn’t agree more. He glanced at the TV then back at Silas before turning back to his computer.
After a while, another line came through, causing him to chuckle again.
“Can I help you?”
“I wish you could, mate.”
Eventually, when he hears the characters talking about – what he thinks is – wanting kids and being unable to have them, he turns his full attention to the TV.
“What the fuck are you watchin’?” Nathan asks before standing and slipping his hands in his pockets as he saunters over to stand behind Silas.
Nathan stands and watches the family of cartoon dogs; Bluey and her sister, Bingo, and their parents, Chilli and Bandit. He watches with a furrowed brow for a moment, wondering how this was his son’s favourite show (it was probably all the colours). And he guesses the theme tune was a little catchy. And sure, Silas didn’t quite understand it, but the dialogue was funny.
“This is better than some of the other shit you watch,” Nathan said, bending down and picking Silas up, without taking his eyes off the TV. “That whiney black bunny you watch? Hate him. The Teletubbies? Also awful. I don’t understand why your mom thinks it’s a classic.”
Silas made a small noise around his pacifier and pointed to the TV.
“Yeah, she your favourite?” Nathan asks, looking at Silas. “What’s her name again? Bingo?”
Silas makes another noise, almost as if confirming with Nathan, still pointing at the TV.
Nathan nodded anyway. “Okay, okay, gotcha.”
After a moment, Nathan stood holding Silas, the two of them watching Bluey together.
Tumblr media
Your meeting overran.
By nearly 45 minutes.
Nathan was going to be pissed.
You speed-walk to his office, ready to blurt out an apology (even though it wasn’t your fault the meeting went over), but you stop mid step when you hear Nathan say to Silas, “I think she’s sleeping with the neighbour.”
Your brow furrows in confusion as you hear him, then Silas babble back.
“Oh yeah, you agree? They’re too friendly, right?”
You slowly walk into the Nathan’s office, seeing him standing with his bank to you on the rug, holding Silas in his arms as they watched Bluey together. Nathan was lightly swaying, almost as if he didn’t realise he was doing it.
You sucked in your lips, holding back a laugh. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“You better not turn out like Muffin, she’s insane,” Nathan said. “I’ll love you regardless, but still.”
Your heart skipped a beat, like it did every time you heard those words come out of his mouth. It wasn’t as if Nathan had never said ‘I love you’, but he…struggles…to express his emotions that aren’t irritability or exasperation. But with Silas, it came naturally to him. He never failed to say ‘I love you’ to his son (of course, Nathan does say it to you, but he understands you’re a ‘full-grown adult who can identify acts of love’; his words).
You’re brought out of your reverie as a new episode of Bluey started, the theme music kicking in. Your eyes widen and you laugh quietly as Nathan starts lightly jumping around to the music, Silas laughing and kicking his legs excitedly.
“I’m watching the footage back to this,” you say.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Nathan says, jumping as he whirls around to look at you. “Announce yourself, would you?”
“You, uh…” you say, still grinning. “You watching Bluey?” you look at Silas, who smiles at you and kicks his legs in excitement. “You watching Bluey with dada? Does dada like Bluey?”
“This is fuckin’ great,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “So much better than that Miss Rachel, or whatever her name is. She’s fuckin’ annoying.”
“Excuse me, she’s very educational!”
“She’s overdoing it. The kid will learn to talk fine with just us.”
“His first word will probably be something inappropriate,” you say. “Like fuck. Or asshole.”
Nathan doesn’t reply as he turns back to the TV. You come and stand next to him, watching the episode with him. It’s the one where Chilli was telling Bluey about how she was worried that Bluey wasn’t going to meet her milestones, but Coco’s mom had told her she was doing an amazing job. It was one of your favourite episodes.
“I’ve been stood here for an hour watching these,” Nathan said quietly. “It’s nice.”
“Just standing and swaying with him?” you ask gently.
“Yeah,” Nathan said simply, not expanding.
You nod, before leaning against him a little. You feel him push back at you.
You stand together and watch a few more seconds of Bluey before you ask, “So you think Chilli and Lucky’s dad are going at it?”
“Oh they definitely are.”
Tumblr media
74 notes · View notes
swallowerofdharma · 1 month
Text
Yashiro’s Cruel God part one
Tumblr media
Disclaimer: this post contains a detailed and straightforward analysis of chapter 25. Doumeki isn’t the villain, if you were worried about that. Actually I must apologize because I wanted to talk about him too, but as usual I started this meta with Yashiro and got carried away. This is also why I am dividing it in parts to avoid having a very very long post. So other parts will hopefully follow to fully elaborate the premise I made. Thank you for understanding. And please take care of your wellbeing, if mentioning Yashiro’s stepfather upset you, maybe skip this one.
Premise: not a matter of perfection but of balance
This person I followed reblogged the Declarations of healthy adulthood by David Richo in big big font and - having only one thought on my mind apparently - I read all that text in Yashiro’s POV. I actually don’t think that this is a perfect model or anything, and I am generally skeptical of self help books (I only assume this is something like it), but why not use this as an example, while considering something that I find interesting about Yashiro and Doumeki? During the discussion about the latest chapter, I said something along the lines of Doumeki representing young love, while Yashiro’s approach has been more mature, and I meant it thinking about Yashiro being aware and cautious about hurting others [and being intentional when he does, since he put a bullet in Doumeki’s leg] and being quite self reliant, and yes I know that he is also afraid of being hurt/loved! in previous posts here, I have mentioned that Yashiro’s acceptance of his past is only-in-part denial or downplaying of trauma, because it has been also a strategy and an impressive sign of his maturity and determination to live in the present. Isn’t it exceptional that Yashiro doesn’t seem all that resentful of his parents? That he openly says that he doesn’t blame others? We have to confront his words always mindful of the fact that he usually is an unreliable narrator, but in many instances he says the truth or half truths and his demeanor confirmed that he did some of what David Richo proposes: I accept full responsibility for the shape my life has taken; I accept that I may never feel I am receiving - or have received - all the attention I seek; One by one, I drop every expectation of people and things; I let go of blame, regret, vengeance, and the infantile desire to punish those who hurt or reject me; No one can or needs to bail me out. I am not entitled to be taken care of by anyone or anything, I let go of control without losing control.
I thought that it was very interesting to consider the Yashiro/Doumeki dynamics from different angles, like older/younger, or even realist/romantic, for example. The point of this experiment isn’t to make a comparison of merit nor to talk about a character in better light than another. Maybe those differences need to be confronted or balanced: for example the realist maybe needs some of the romantic’s idealism to soar and not be stuck on the ground. Yoneda-san might be onto something so human and amazing here. An important clarification is due before saying anything else. As characters that are written as full human beings, with their complexity and contradictions, Yashiro and Doumeki can’t be put neatly into the opposite categories I proposed. The story is much more dynamic, so I ask you to take a further step and put those opposites at the ends of a spectrum and to move our characters freely in both directions. Yashiro tends toward being effectively the older and more realistic one but he has traits that make him move down towards the other end too, even to the extreme of being childish. Consider for example these other statements, from the Declarations of healthy adulthood: I need never fear my own truth, powers, fantasies wishes, thoughts, sexuality, dreams, or ghosts; When change and growth scare me, I still choose them. I may act with fear, but never because of it; I am still safe when I cease following the rules my parents (or others) set for me; If people knew me as I really am, they would love me for being human like them. These points clearly demonstrate Yashiro’s unresolved problems, where he is stuck if you want, and why probably nobody believed me when I pointed at him as being mature (eh, he has his moments tho, you can’t deny that).
I challenge everyone to consider that those four points in particular are quite challenging for most people in general, but particularly so for someone who has fear/betrayal as the foundational principle in their childhood instead of a normal amount even a scarse amount of parental love/safety. And I want to underline childhood here, not teenage years or later.
I need never fear my own truth, powers, fantasies wishes, thoughts, sexuality, dreams, or ghosts. Yashiro here is a mix of contradictions, because he outwardly seems to own those things, even making them a point of his persona, but most of those things are based on the lies he told himself, or his stepfather told him: see this other point
I am still safe when I cease following the rules my parents (or others) set for me. Isn’t this statement extremely helpful to understand Yashiro’s situation? To feel safe he had to build his personality according to the rules of the one who had all the power over him and had already taken away any sense of security from him. This is probably one of those things that can be hard to understand when you have never been there. Most notably, not only in the manga this has been pointed out, but it has been pointed out by Yashiro himself. He is self conscious of this, he knows that he lied to himself as a child, that he had to, and he is constantly choosing to continue lying because that is still the only foundation he has. There was no familial love, no other relative safety. Letting go of the lies actually means going to pieces and breaking down.
Tumblr media
This isn’t different from what happens to people who are tortured. Yashiro’s father completely took away any sense of security and safety. The aggravating circumstances were that Yashiro as a child didn’t have any other point of reference or knowledge to understand what was happening with his body and in that state of mind what his father told him had to be the only truth possible. Parents who abuse their children most often don’t even realize what they are doing to its full extent. That’s the immense cruelty of these types of situations. The rules are lies, but the lies are rules to follow to be safe:
You like it when it hurts, right? If it doesn’t hurt, I can’t get into it.
What happened in chapter 25: why now?
Yashiro didn’t want to have sex with Doumeki and said so repeatedly. Doumeki has grown on him, behind liking his physical appearance or using him as a substitute for Kageyama: Yashiro truly liked this person and he liked that Doumeki was impotent. Thanks to that, Yashiro grew comfortable around Doumeki and with comfort and safety comes familiarity. When Yashiro discovered that the impotence was gone, he was angry and terrified. They had become too close and now the premise has changed and Yashiro couldn’t trust Doumeki or himself anymore. I won’t analyze here the scene in the shower but I’ll skip to the point. Doumeki only understood that his love was required, that he was wanted and stopped thinking. He acted passionately like any young person who had a normal foundation in love would. He didn’t understand anything that Yashiro asked or why there were mixed signals and what it all meant. He pushed and hurt and broke without being aware of what he was doing.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And Yashiro was trapped in a situation he had tried to escape from his all life: with a person who felt familiar, a person he loved and relied on, in the safety of a home, who wanted sex and was going to do what he wanted regardless of what Yashiro had to say. Yashiro desperately tried to control what was happening through usual patterns, making it hurt, asking Doumeki to do from behind, detaching the sex from his emotions, but he couldn’t and for the first time in his life sex was different from what he knew, because while Yashiro had loved his stepfather, his father didn’t love him and he didn’t treat him like Doumeki did. And every lies built around his father’s abuse came to the surface. Including the fact that his father never loved him. Doumeki broke him indeed because he broke through the lies/rules upon which Yashiro had intentionally built his entire personality/safety. And he wasn’t ready for it, he specifically said he didn’t want it, he had known all along, he already knew when men before Doumeki tried to make love to him and when he built a strategy to specifically avoid being confronted with those lies/rules. He didn’t love those men. He did love Doumeki though. But once again Yashiro didn’t have a choice. And he was physically hurt and recovering after being shot and knowing his life was in danger outside of that room. He had just discovered that Doumeki lied about being impotent the previous time he touched him in the car and before that. It was probably the worst timing possible for making love. At some point Yashiro grew resigned and even reciprocated a little, reaching for Doumeki, caressing his face, and he even reassured him before he fell asleep. There were words that Doumeki said that Yoneda didn’t disclose fully, choosing instead to immediately took us in the flashback with Yashiro. I think it is probable that what Doumeki said was something that Yashiro’s father had said and that we are going to confront before the end of the manga. I personally want to know these words more than what Yashiro said while an airplane passed by and Doumeki was unconscious. Morbid maybe on my part.
Tumblr media
I have stated that I am not going to make Doumeki a villain here. The point of this analysis is just to see where Doumeki was in terms of maturity. To be continued…
69 notes · View notes
tinandabin · 2 years
Note
Another gen z reader pls!
YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND.
Yandere Muzan x Gen Z! Reader.
Tumblr media
Also, this will contain TRIGGERING THEMES!! It could be anything, like mentions of murder, blood, obsession, anything yandere related. Basically dark content, so if you are NOT comfortable with such stuff, please do not read this post!
Okay, so before we start this shit, just know that Muzan here is kind of gonna be like, only good to you and shit.
Tumblr media
"My love, I'm back-" Muzan announced as he started taking off his coat like they did in those 90s shit. Or not. God, my memory is fucking shit. That does not matter, for the only goal in your mind at the moment is to find a excuse to get away from this ugly orange of a demon.
"Oh no, I forgot to water my baguettes! I am so sorry, I must take my leave right now!" Just as you said that, your baguettes in the background screamed, "Hydrate us, [Name]!"
I can't even properly tell you how hard Muzan face palmed at your so stupid attempts to try and escape his affection??? And he doesn't even wanna know who you bribed to wear baguette costumes and say to hydrate them.. What did you even bribe them with???
One of them was probably Enmu.
Muzan, himself doesn't know why the fuck he finds you so amusing. It's probably because you are like, literally playing with your life. Literally.
Evidence is the time when you once tried drinking bleach because first, it looked tasty, and second, you wanted to know what bleach tastes like.
And my God, it did not taste as good as it looked like! IT WAS A SCAM. No one ever scammed you this hard. It tasted like extremely concentrated swimming pool water.
Oh that reminds you of the time when you drank swimming pool water-
And in the Taisho Era, there is no shit like fanfics or memes so Muzan can more than often find random drawings...which are memes but his boomer brain can't process what's so funny about it. Like, talking croissants are funny- no, not the ones you find on Kids YT.
But as I said there are no fanfics, and my goodness do you love reading, proof is of you reading this. So let's hope you like reading books too.
No fanfics. What can you do? Probably read Shakespeare. I'm bullshitting my way through this, please deal with it.
Of course, after reading Shakespeare your grammar and vocabulary got a lot better! Which Muzan liked, a lot.
But,,,,, you being you, now even have more ways to insult Muzan. Like,
Thou base decayed ingested-lump!
Thou perfidious weather-bitten writhled shrimp!
Thou fawning fool-born filthy rogue!
And you could go on and on, but let Muzan have a break.
It's so funny to the uppermoons, especially Douma, when Muzan is just 'scolding' them by 'gently' smashing there heads in and you come in and go, "Awww, mama duckling scolding her ducklings..." As you pretend to make a video with your phone which you don't have because Muzan broke it because he's an asshole.
And as soon as you come in, somehow all the blood disappears and everything is normal as he kisses your forehead and asks, "What are you doing here, darling, did I not tell you to not leave your room?"
Everyone present could feel the temperature drop when Muzan said that, and that was not a good sign.
"YOU AREN'T MY MOM." As soon as you said that, you ran away faster than light because you are....idk. You were able to run away mostly because Muzan let you, but trust me when I say that he wasn't angry at you, more so at the demons who he kept at your room's door to prevent you from leaving the room.
And those poor, poor demons who were now begging for their lives as Muzan glared at them, "I gave you one job, one job.."
That's just when you had to again come in, "CUT!" You yelled, "Do it again, but this time, with more feelings." The demons and Muzan nodded, "ACTION!" You said as the scene started again, this time, with more feeling.
One time you just pointed at one ugly demon and said, "This does not spark joy," Muzan killed it. And then after seeing what Muzan did to the ones you said that to, "This does not spark joy," you said to Muzan. Pointing at him.
And after that, he was seen sulking the whole day because he thinks you hate him, which you do. I hope. I don't know.
Tumblr media
MASTERLIST
2K notes · View notes
blacklegsanjiii · 1 month
Note
Okay but- have you think about just ONE of Sanji brothers being good? Like, Ichiji. The most perfect son. The future king of Germa. Ichiji, the first prince. Who has emotions just like Sanji (even if he struggles with them unlike the blonde) and never, ever punched him before, always intenting to subtly stop Niji and Yonji from beating him up. He wishes he could do more, but he can't now.
Until their mother dies and Judge locks his dear younger brother.
It's like something scream to him that he should get Sanji fucking out of here and leave alongside. And he hears. He saves his dear brother and run away, both, together.
And then, both where rescued by Mihawk and the Warlord!Sanji happens, but with Ichiji too.
Unlike the blonde, he really don't like interacting and prefers to stay hidden/with his parents (mostly Dracule and Croc). He gets surprised when the news about Portgas D. "Fire Fist" Ace being Sanji's boyfriend comes out during Marineford, but he helps stop the execution.
God, anon, this is fucking gold I love it. Holy shit. I love your brain. It got out of hand and like Ichiji is too important for it to be just glanced over.
Ichiji who just can't wrap his head around why they're different but knows he needs to protect Sanji and save him. He may be the Crown Prince, superseding his older sister for whatever awful reason and doesn't understand his emotions like Sanji does and Sora tries to help. Ichiji who helps Sanji get patched up when he can't stop Niji and Yonji and Reiju turns her head and scoffs. Then their mother dies.
Then Sanji dies.
Except he's not dead. He's in the dungeon with a helmet and Ichiji feels the pure rage and eventually breaks them both out and breaks the helmet of Sanji who is so much smaller than he should be. They work on the Orbit and when Zeff attacks and saves them on the rock it takes Ichiji much longer to starve than Sanji but he does. They find Zeff who gave his leg for them and their dreams, for Sanji to find the All Blue and Ichiji to be there for his brother and find his way in life.
When Mihawk picks them up he's absorbing the information he is given and suddenly has two kids coming with him to Kuraigana and they're twins but completely different sizes and Ichiji tells him everything about Germa and what's been happening to them. Mihawk is just staring at the brothers in both disbelief and horror and decides he's not going to really let them out of his sight.
The first Warlord meeting they attend with Mihawk, Sanji is still hiding in Mihawk's coat and Ichiji is glaring at them from Mihawk's side with crossed arms. Everyone is looking at the children but the meeting is normal except for the children reading under the table. The meeting takes forever and they fall asleep and Doffy pulls them both out because he's long, not only is he tall he's just long and when he looks at Mihawk because this is some typa shit Doffy has pulled, like he has kids that he acquired somehow.
"Would you believe they're twins?" Mihawk asks dully as Doffy holds them.
"What the fuck did you do to them?" Crocodile asks.
"They came like that." Mihawk sighs.
"Did you buy children?" Boa asks with anger.
"No, I saved them and Redleg from a rock and they came with me." Mihawk responds. The warlords stare at them. "They're also the presumed dead princes of Germa."
"Hawkeye, with all due respect, what were you thinking?" Jinbei asks as he rubs his temples.
"I don't know." Mihawk answers truthfully.
The next meeting the other four have managed to pull together some things maybe the boys will like. Maybe. There's some drawing stuff, more laid back children's books, a book of maps. The boys are staring at them but give their thanks as they settle in for the meeting and afterwards the warlords try to talk to them but Ichiji answers mostly. Sanji hiding behind him, nervous, as the elder talks to the most dangerous pirates of the seas about their dreams.
When Mihawk goes on the job Croc still takes them first. Sanji and Ichiji are enamored with Anna and the bananawanis and they get along great with her and it's actually really nice for them to have a pet, even for a short period of time that isn't trying to kill them and eat them. At some point Ichiji shoots lasers at somebody who got a little too close. No one was hurt but Baroque works is staring at the kid with confusion as Ichiji shrugs them off. When Crocodile asks the only answer he is given is a shrug by Mihawk.
Then Doffy kidnaps them because there's another job and everyone is arguing over the laser kid and his little cook of a brother and who gets to take them. Doffy sees an opportunity and just takes them without anyone noticing and gets them lunch before they leave and he strings along the city making them laugh. Baby 5 and Ichiji love sparring and Sanji is allowed in the kitchen at his pleasure. When Doffy is holding the three of them to put to bed he can feel a weird feeling in his chest and he doesn't like it. He killed his brother he doesn't want to kill them too.
While Jinbei has them he teaches them about meditation and learns a lot about them because he is much calmer than the previous warlords. He calmly takes Ichiji's worry and agression as he trains them. Ichiji is fiercely protective because of their past. Jinbei simply acknowledges this and says he does need to let Sanji move forward, for both of them to be their own person. Sanji says he should find his own dream and as much as he loves Ichiji his life shouldn't revolve around protecting him. Their mother would have wanted him to be free too and if he's tied to Sanji that isn't freedom. Ichiji thinks a lot about that and decides he's still going to protect Sanji or will beat up whoever beats Sanji up. Jinbei laughs full bellied and loud and says that's a good start and asks if there's anything he likes to do. Turns out Ichiji has been getting a lot of use out of the drawing supplies and Jinbei nods. Of course the brothers have picked artistic talents of their own, similar yet distinct enough to be their own.
When Boa gets them she's going to treat them like the little princes they were except they don't really have clothes for boys there. So they're put in dresses and extra flowy pants and shirts. Boa smiling and taking care of them as they adjust to being royalty where it's not a fight to death or being on edge that they're going to be attacked. Boa and her sisters explain that most royal systems are not like Germa. They find they like the styles of the shirts and pants and dresses better than a lot of things they've worn and they have the ability to show their differences because they've mostly just been dressed in the same type of training clothes. So to be able to not be in training clothes or numbered like in Germa is huge to them and Ichiji runs around with Sanji on his back and they're laughing on the beaches of Amazon Lily and Boa smiles as she puts their joy into her mind forever.
They grow up well loved and doing what they love. Perona fully adopts them as her baby brothers and dolls them up. She's four years older than them and takes them out for the boring parts of warlord meetings/parent hand overs. She is the cool goth older sister who absolutely buys them cigarettes. She, Baby 5, and Ichiji have also somehow formed a makeshift gang that follows Sanji much to his displeasure but it's so fucking funny for laser beams to fry a Marine's cap when they're getting a little too close to Sanji. Or when Sanji is working a waiter or dishwasher or whoever. No matter what the parents say.
Except they miss when Sanji sets off and Ichiji pouts on Kuraigana for months. Sanji doesn't call or write and his poster is fucking awful. When he and Mihawk go to Ace's execution after Perona and Zoro arrive and Ichiji avoids him so that he doesn't wig the swordsman out. During the war his transponder goes off from Mihawk.
"Fire Fist is dating Sanji." Is all that's said so Ichiji joins the fray with his laser eyes. They save Ace and Luffy get them out. He goes with Crocodile after the war. Eventually on Karai Bari when the Strawhats and Ace, newly a part of the crew, show up. Ace and Luffy point at Ichiji and say that he's the red Sanji from Marineford.
"So you guys got Dad arrested, and Mama is dealing with the whole Navy thing by herself and Pops is on your crew?" Ichiji asks Sanji.
"On top of waging war against two emperors which one is dead, and the other is just...fucked up, I guess." Sanji nods.
"You have anything cool now?" Ichiji asks.
"I can sky walk and set myself on fire." Sanji nods.
"Fucking shit if Boa sends her damn snake on us, I'm feeding it to Anna." Crocodile grouses.
"There are much bigger things to deal with." Mihawk assures Crocodile. "For example, Fire Fist needs a proper shovel talk and I'm leaving that up to you both." Mihawk says he leaves.
"Oh right." Ichiji grins as Ace looks at Sanji.
"He helped me escape Tottoland, he doesn't need a shovel talk!" Sanji defends.
"Wrong." Crocodile and Ichiji retort as Sanji sighs and everyone starts asking who the fuck raised them.
61 notes · View notes