#THERE ARE CHILDREN WHO ARE TALLER THAN HIM
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The spaces between my fingers are where yours fit perfectly
When comparing hands, you realize how tiny you are to him.
ಇ. Character x Female Reader/MC
(Included parts in order: Caleb, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne)
ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, comforting and healing, size gap, long-distance relationship (for Caleb's part)
ಇ. Word count: 3k2
ಇ. Requested anonymously
ಇ. The title of this fic is a lyric from Owl City's song - Vanilla Twilight.
ಇ. Masterlist
ಇ. Request
𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
Since childhood, you had always loved holding Caleb's hand.
You adored putting your small hand in his palm. To feel such warmth. His hands were usually larger than yours. At first, there was not much difference between the hands of two children. But as you got older, the gap widened. You began to notice this and frequently inclined him to compare hands.
“Hey Caleb, give me your hand.”
"What for?"
“Just do what I said, and give me your hand.”
Caleb was thrilled, waiting for you to place a piece of candy or anything intriguing in his hand, which had just expanded to its full size. Then he got upset when he felt the touch of your hand instead.
"What are you doing?"
"Hmmph." You pouted. "Still not as big."
You put your hand on Caleb's, measuring front, back, left and right. He eventually lost patience and said:
“Why are you measuring my hand?”
“Because I want my hands to be as big as yours. Only with such big hands can you hold so many gifts and pies from Grandma..."
Your face was extremely serious as you spoke, but it made Caleb roll around in the grass, laughing until his stomach hurt.
“Why are you laughing at me?!” You felt a little offended. You struck Caleb hard on the arm. It was painful.
"Ouch!" He yelled, then got up to face you. His hair still had grass in it. "Listen up, pipsqueak. Your hand will never be bigger than mine."
"Why?"
“Because I will always be taller than you, bigger than you. I must be taller to protect you and Grandma! My hands must be bigger to always hold yours!”
Having said that, Caleb curled his fingers around your palm. You grinned naively, believing that such large hands were ideal for doing all of the chores or lifting heavy objects for you.
One time, while learning to cook with Grandma, Caleb burned his hand. He tolerated pain very well and did not whine. On the contrary, it was you who frantically ran to find ointment to apply to him. You were crying:
“Caleb, you have to be careful! You have to take care of these hands... If something happens to them, who will do the housework for me?..."
Caleb laughed. He used his other hand to pat your head. “What are you worried about, pipsqueak? I will always protect you. Who did I start learning how to cook for?"
You sobbed. Honestly, you felt so terrible every time Caleb got hurt.
Time seemed to fly by. You both were growing up. The space between the two hands also extended. At one point, suddenly, just comparing hands with him turned your cheeks red.
But these days, you did not get to do that often anymore. Caleb went to the academy so far away, and then his long missions left him with few opportunities to visit home. In his free time, you could only chat with him online. You really missed the feeling of his large hands shielding yours. You said:
“Caleb. Give me your hand.”
On the laptop screen, he burst out laughing. “What now? Even though I'm so far away, you still want to measure my hand?"
“Just do what I said.”
Caleb shook his head in defeat. He brought his hand close to the camera and spread out five slim fingers. His hands were thin and smooth, but after being accepted into the academy, you could feel the roughness or new calluses there. You smiled, raised your hand to the screen and pressed it against his.
“Looking from this angle, my hand is bigger than yours!”
“Wow, pipsqueak has grown bigger and stronger than me!”
Oh, how much you missed him! You were about to burst into tears and tell him to come home to you right that moment. It had been a long time since his last return. You longed to hold his hand.
But you wouldn't make Caleb worry if he had to embark on a mission away from home. You tried to show him your brightest smile. And you whispered:
“Yeah. You've always taken care of me since I was little. Now it's my turn to be stronger to take care of you."
Caleb knew you so well, because you were always the thing in the palm of his hand he cherished most in the world. He was silent for a long moment, then gently said:
“Pipsqueak, don't be sad. I'll come home to you next weekend, okay? Make sure you eat plenty. If I return home and notice that your hands have thinned even just a little bit, I will be very displeased!"
𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
The first time you met him, he left an impression on you with his large and steady hand.
You found Xavier on a mission. Since he did not move, you came closer and gently shook him. Then his large hand gripped your wrist securely. You were astonished by the sudden vigor with which you were seized. To be honest, you were afraid at the moment.
The second time you met him, his big hand protected you once more and took you out of danger. That hand placed around your waist, not squeezing hard to the point you became uneasy, but it was a gentle touch, as if he was frightened you might vanish if he held you too closely. Perhaps from that moment on, you felt the warmth and safety of being in his arms. And all your walls eventually collapsed, embracing the way he entwined his soul with your own.
Then you became used to holding his hand as you walked together. When you had to maneuver through a congested area, he would gently squeeze your fingers, as if to remind you to pay more attention to him. And as you two went along a quiet street or sat on the subway with his head resting on your shoulder, he tenderly rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. A gentle gesture, just enough to let everyone know that this girl was his.
His knuckles were hardened from sword practice. His skin was also consistently dry. He was clueless about how to take care of himself. So you began to learn about lotions for nourishing hands.You always carried a tube with you. On one occasion, you took it out and applied it to Xavier's hand.
"What's this?" He inquired.
“Hand cream.” You murmured this as you massaged the soft white cream into Xavier's obediently outstretched hands. “Your skin is so dry. I bought this for you to use.”
He did not answer, just stared intently at you taking care of him. When the thin layer of cream was absorbed, he turned his hands over and observed with a blank expression.
You giggled, then held out a hand in front of his face and said:
“Put your hand here.”
Xavier displayed confusion before placing his hand on yours and softly hitting the palm.
"High-five?" He inquired, continuing to appear perplexed.
"No." You answered, grasping Xavier's wrist to keep his hand close to yours. "I want to see how large your hands are. Hmmm…"
Xavier's hand was a little bigger than yours. You loved these hands. They constantly offered you a sense of security. On any endeavor, you could put your life in his hands without any hesitation. In daily life, you would always reach for his hand whenever you went out, or when your free hand wanted to feel his warmth. The only thing you never dared trust in these hands was, perhaps, cooking.
Xavier smiled. His hands felt significantly smoother after applying the cream, and they retained a very subtle flowery aroma. He laced his fingers with yours, then leaned down and placed a kiss on your hand.
“My hands smell like yours now.”
"Of course." You replied while blushing. “It's the same type of hand cream.”
Xavier did not respond. You caught him pondering for a long time. The next day, you found him applying the entire tube of cream on his hands.
"Oh dear! What are you doing? There's no need to apply that much!”
You quickly went to get a towel to help him clean up. He sat on the sofa, looking rather bewildered while you asked him:
“Are you going to use up the entire tube like that?”
Xavier responded: “Yeah… Since… This morning when I woke up, I couldn't smell your cream anymore. I want to use it all so the fragrance lasts longer.”
You rolled my eyes at Xavier, and a few seconds later you fell down laughing on the sofa. "Oh my! You did it in vain. These things don't last long."
“Is that so…” Disappointment was evident on Xavier's face. Seeing that, you sat close and tangled your hand with his. You said:
“If you like this scent, I will buy more for you.”
“What I like is your scent.” Xavier replied. His thumb caressed your hand. “I like the scent of your hair, your clothes, your hands… Everything that belongs to you…”
You were surprised, and delighted. Your face was more radiant than the sun outside the window. His hand felt so large and warm. If you could, you would never want to let go.
You squeezed his hand once. Fingers pressed closely together. You progressed from being terrified of this foreign hand to when it became familiar, and now inseparable. It was weird, since despite only knowing him for a short time, it felt like you had loved him your whole life.
Leaning your head on his shoulder, you whispered:
“Xavier, don't ever let go of my hand, okay?”
"Never."
𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
You preferred to visit Rafayel's studio more frequently these days. Of course, compared to staying in a small apartment alone, coming here to work with him, drenched in sunlight and sea breeze, surrounded by flowers and grass, was definitely a much more sensible choice.
But the main reason remained Rafayel. You enjoyed watching him in silence, as he concentrated on painting. His long fingers wrapped around the brush, perfect as if he was the work of art. You had undoubtedly noticed Rafayel's hands since the first time you met, when he demonstrated his incredible fishing talents. He was adept at wielding a racket and far more skilled at holding a brush. The hues of the mythical world depicted in the painting gradually revealed itself under his magical hands. He did not always use a brush, instead dipping his hands in the paint, and as his fingers started dancing on the white canvas, you believed you saw a rainbow even though it was not sunny that day.
You loved how Rafayel rotated the brush in his palm while contemplating before getting started with painting. You loved the way his fingers held the chopsticks and transformed the food into a culinary movie. You liked the way he wrapped his long finger in your hair to play with it. It seemed that everything he did with his hands was perfect, and unreal.
“Rafayel. Can you raise your hand?” You asked him that out of nowhere one afternoon at the studio. He was focused on an art book, so he did not respond and simply executed what you asked.
You extended your hand, intending to press it against his. Yet he raised his hand a bit higher. You grimaced and lifted your palm high. He did that again, and again, until his arm was stretched to its full length, and so was yours. The only thing was, since yours was shorter, you could not reach his palm.
“Rafayel!” You shouted fiercely. He closed the book he was reading and flung it on the sofa. On his face was a triumphant smile.
"What? Can't reach it?"
With an irritated expression, you rose up and seized his hand. Fingers intertwined, perfect as if he and you were made for each other. You used a great force to push Rafayel down into the sofa, while your other hand maintained your body weight by positioning it near his neck.
The smile on Rafayel's face disappeared. The scarlet hue of a ripe tomato gradually crept across his statue-like face and reached his ears. Rafayel seemed displeased.
“Are you bullying me?”
“Who bullied who first?” You argued back.
Noticing that Rafayel had begun to move beneath you, his hand entwined with yours now yearning to escape, you held him even tighter. His hands were slender and cool, velvety like a baby's skin. The veins were barely visible underneath the thin skin. The fingers were extremely lengthy; they belonged to an artist rather than a warrior like you. Even his nails were tidy, pink, and well-filed. Looking back at your hand in his, it was dry and small, with short fingers and nails that were neglected due to a lack of time, you were unable to avoid feeling envious.
“Hey, if you want to hold my hand, just say it.” Rafayel gazed at you furiously. “Is it necessary to pin me down like this?”
“I don't want to hold your hand. I just want to compare it with mine.”
Rafayel scoffed. He replied: “Comparing hands, why? We all know for a fact that I have the most gorgeous hands in the world.”
Seeing how he started praising himself, I sat up bored, intending not to joke with him again. But Rafayel refused to let go of your hand. The other curled around your waist, clutching you hard.
"Where are you going? We haven't finished talking yet, have we? If you like my hands so much, how about I give them to you?”
"Huh?" You were a bit startled. In your mind a scenario of receiving a huge gift box. When you opened it, you discovered Rafayel's severed and bloody hands inside...
Rafayel squeezed your face, as if he knew you were thinking nonsense.
“Whatever you're thinking, with that expression, I'm sure it's not what I want. Follow me.”
Rafayel led you into the warehouse, he pulled out some plaster powder and a few necessary tools. Later that day, there was a new piece in Rafayel's studio, yet not a painting. It was a statue of a small hand tangled with a larger one. A precise duplicate of yours and Rafayel's.
“Come to think of it,” he said as he looked at the final work with you. “My hands are most beautiful when intertwined with yours.”
𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
Doctor Zayne's hands were often cold.
You still remembered learning to knit with Grandma and making gloves for Zayne when you lived close. Unfortunately, you did not get a chance to present them to him yet. You kept them in your old box at home till this day.
At the time, his hands were already significantly larger than yours. They were chilly since his Evol was occasionally unrestrained. In situations like that, he would put his hands in his pockets, look down, and leave fast. Even though you chased him down to ask him questions, he declined to speak, much alone show you his hands.
At the time, there was no scar on his hands.
Presently, when you put on his large gloves, you noticed how enormous his hands were. Your hand was buried beneath a thick layer of wool, only taking up about half of the glove's space. You rolled your eyes.
“Doctor Zayne, look!” You raised your gloved hand for him to see. The wool glove's fingertips had extra room and swung to the rhythm as you waved them. Obviously, the glove was excessively big for you.
“Stop playing around.” Doctor Zayne replied. He took the other glove and put it on your other hand. “Put this on.”
“It's too big. I feel like I'm a monster with gigantic hands!”
You laughed. Zayne grabbed your hands and hoisted them up. He inhaled to keep them warm and responded: "Because someone has lost her gloves on the way here, she must accept her fate of becoming a monster."
Zayne chuckled, but his serious expression made you question if he was fooling or condemning you for being irresponsible. He and you were on holiday in the snow-covered mountains. How silly of you to have misplaced your gloves and not remembered where you had put them. Hence he had to let you temporarily borrow his.
Even after you bought a new pair, you preferred the feeling of putting your hands in Zayne's gloves. Especially when they still felt his warmth lingering inside.
Zayne's hands were always so big, they were twice the size of yours. Your body shape was average, but when you stood next to him, you appeared strangely tiny. He could easily lift you up. He could hold both of your hands together with only one of his. And he could hold all five snow seals lined up side by side in one hand at your request.
His hands were covered with scars. When you inquired about their history, he just made up an explanation that he washed his hands too thoroughly. He saw you as a three-year-old child. Of course you did not believe it at all, but would not ask more until he was comfortable enough to share his story with you. You adored tracing the scars and veins that bulged beneath his skin. Sometimes, he felt ticklish. Other times, he would tell you to stop messing around while he was working. But he never truly pushed your tiny hand aside.
There were times when his hands became very cold. Extremely cold. As his habit, he buried them in his layers of garments without letting you know. He would not dare touch you since he was frightened you would catch that cold. Yet in moments like that, all you ever wanted was to hold him close.
You removed his hands from his coat pockets. They felt as frigid as ice when you touched them. Doctor Zayne frowned. He wanted to withdraw his hands but you clutched them hard. Your little, trembling fingers curled around and cherished those cold hands. You offered them your warm breath.
“Let go of them. You will be cold.” Zayne expressed worry. But you shook your head.
“Just wait a little longer and we'll both warm up.”
“I will… hurt you…”
That was what terrified Zayne. What if he lost control and accidentally hurt you? He would never be able to forgive himself if that happened. There had been many times he had avoided or hidden from you, but in the end, you were always the one who ran to his side when he needed you the most.
Eventually, he gave in. He relaxed his hands in your palms. He rested his head on your forehead, his eyes softly closing. In you there was always the warmth that he yearned.
After a while, Zayne warmed up. You were not cold anymore. Between the hands was an immeasurable warmth that both he and you desired to cherish forever.
That winter, you gave him a pair of new gloves with snowmen on that you had knitted. They clasped securely around Zayne's fingers, a reminder that no matter what, you would never let go of his hands.
#heart hunters series#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fanfic#caleb#mahiru#xia yizhou#xavier#shen xinghui#seiya#rafayel#qi yu#homura#zayne#rei#li shen#lnds x reader#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#lads caleb#lads xavier#lads rafayel#lads zayne#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne x mc#caleb x mc#caleb x reader#caleb x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel x mc
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Good to know you're doing great, and that's fine (and Yes Inumake Toge 😍😍 🥺🥺) How about Zoro x reader (reader is the daughter of Gold Roger but uses a different last name she's two years older than Ace and her identity is a secret, she does tell Zoro in private after they get together) them having triplets together all look like Zoro (all have his sense of direction lol) just the shenanigans of reader having three lost Marimos 😂 she's very amused by it (it makes sense considering her sense of direction is non existent too 😂 the crew has five direction challenged members yikes) also she's a fighter (has Uzui Tengen's swords lol... I'm only adding this part cause I don't really like reader not being a fighter sorry if that's inconvenient you can remove it, I'm not asking for battle scenes just a note to point out) she's his height (the struggles of my tall ass constantly having to imagine how tall a character is for them to be taller than my 6'4 ass 😂) and kinda hot headed
i love the idea of Zoro's and reader's children being directionally challenged just like him lol. i can do this idea, because i am also directionally challenged :) i just don't know who Uzui Tengen is, but I did google him to make sure! i hope you enjoy this :) so sorry it took so long!
taglist - @kabloswrld
it runs in the family
Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader
summary - the ask ^-^
warnings - not proof read
It was hard enough having one lost soul to take care of. Watching Zoro was like watching a child, needing constant focus and attention to keep him from wandering off. Everyone takes turns watching him, but it ultimately ends up being your job most of the time because it's so exhausting.
"I'm going to that weapons store over there, be right back."
Your head snapped up when you heard him say that, eyes going wide as you immediately lunged forward to grab his wrist.
"It's right over there!" He protested, "I won't get lost."
You snorted and raised an eyebrow, "Babe I've seen you walk across the street and get lost. I don't believe you for a second. Sit down."
He grumbled and complained, but listened and took his seat next to you again. The two of you were waiting for the others to come back from their respective tasks, having finished your own (no thanks to Zoro, you had done it yourself). You swore you looked down for two seconds and when you turned to say something to him, he was not there. You shot up instantly, looking around for a mop of green hair.
"That idiot-"
You found him soon enough, and he was making his way to the weapons store just like he wanted. You were quick to scramble after him, knowing if you lost him now it would take you a whole day to find him. Maybe two.
"Zoro!"
The man grunted as you grabbed his ear, shooting you a pained glare as you twisted it and pulled him in the other direction.
"Dammit woman, at least let my ear go!"
"You need a leash!"
"..."
And that's pretty much how it goes every time you have to babysit your husband. It only got worse when you found out you were pregnant, and produced three exact copies of the swordsman. Three little menaces with his hair, his features, his personality, and your eyes. That's about the only thing they got from you.
To absolutely no one's surprise, they turned out to have a horrible sense of direction just like their father.
To be honest, you were a little relieved they hadn't inherited anything from you. As the daughter of the famed Gol D Roger, you were just as much at risk of being captured and locked up forever - or executed - just because of your parentage, like your younger brother. Only Zoro knew who your father was, as you kept the secret as possible. Even then, you only told him because you wanted no secrets between the two of you, which you'd promised each other on your wedding day. It seemed so long ago, with everything you'd been through, but you were more than grateful for the swordsman.
Not just for keeping your secret (you were pretty sure he forgot the day after you told him) but for protecting you to a point. He knew you could take care of yourself, he'd seen how skilled you were with your blades. He wasn't overbearing, because you were already a strong fighter, but he protected you in other ways, like keeping you from getting into dangerous situations that risked exposing who you were - like that one time in Water 7 when Garp absent-mindedly noted that you reminded him of Gol D Roger, Zoro quickly changed the conversation. He was dumb, but he was more perceptive than he led people to believe.
All these memories, of meeting him and dating him and eventually marrying him, flooded your mind as you gazed down at your sons. A soft smile on your face, you admired just how much they looked like their father, something you had hoped for but the others teased you for.
But you found out soon enough that although having three little kids running around was hard enough, it was made worse when you and the crew found out about their lack of directional sense.
"Zoro!"
You smacked the back of your husband's head hard, immediately waking him from his nap. He glared up at you for a moment before seeing the furious look on your face and immediately became nervous.
"Where are the boys?!"
"They were right over-" He pointed to the nearby swing, "-there."
"Uh huh, and where are they now?" You crossed your arms.
He scratched the back of his head, getting to his feet, "Uh..."
You smacked him again, "Dumbass. You're just lucky this island isn't as big as all the other ones we've been to!"
But as it turned out, searching for your lost children wasn't hard. They were only a block away from the small park Zoro had taken them to, huddled together on the side and looking around in confusion. In true Roronoa Zoro fashion.
One of them spotted you and yelled happily, dragging his siblings towards you and your sheepish husband. You smiled and scooped two of them up, leaving the third to be lifted into Zoro's arms.
"You guys know you're not supposed to go anywhere without me or your father," you scolded, holding back a smile at how cute they looked glancing at each other before looking down.
"Sorry, mommy. It won't happen again."
And they sound so cute, so sad, you just have to smother their little faces with kisses until they're laughing and pushing your face away.
"Ew, mom!"
But of course, it does happen again. Because they're Roronoa Zoro's children, they always manage to get themselves lost. The next time it happened, you were visiting Vivi in Alabasta. As you and the others were caught up in greeting the princess, your overeager kids found some other kids to play with and went off with them without telling you or Zoro.
Your husband, bless him, tried to go after them but got himself lost in the process. How you know? Sanji found your kids and brought them back, but said he hasn't even SEEN the swordsman.
"Babe you are the LAST person who should go looking for lost people!" You sighed when you found him, shaking your head. "It always ends up like this."
"Those are MY kids-"
"Clearly," you pinched the bridge of your nose. "Anyway Sanji found them, so let's just go." You dragged him back to everyone else, ignoring the way his eye twitched at the mention of the cook.
That's not to say you were good with directions, because you were also bad with them. Sure, you had a better idea of direction than Zoro did, but the crew was still a little wary about sending you anywhere alone.
You and your family tended to butt heads about it, especially when you were all shopping for things you needed. Zoro would claim what you were looking for was in one aisle, while you asserted that it was in another.
It was quite funny for the crew actually, watching the five of you argue and then run off in different directions, only to forget which way you came from and struggle to get back. They had a blast when you took the kids to a carnival where there was a maze, because they found their way out relatively quickly. All the while you, your directionally-challenged kids and your even more directionally-challenged husband went in circles.
"I think it's this way."
"No, no, it's definitely this way!"
"Trust me, I know where I'm going!"
"So do I!"
You two were so busy arguing about where to go that you didn't notice your mischievous children sneaking off to try and find their own way out. Much like Zoro, they hated arguing and they wanted to just take action instead of thinking. By the time you realised it was too quiet, they were nowhere nearby.
"Oh my God, not again!" You face-palmed, then whirled on the swordsman, "This is your fault!"
"Mine?! You wanted to argue!"
Steam was practically coming out of your nose and ears, but you took a deep breath and calmed yourself. One of you had to be reasonable here. So without a word, you turned and walked in one direction while your thick-headed husband went in the other.
"(kid 1 name)! (kid 2 name)! (kid 3 name)!" You tried calling, hearing their voices call back out to you every time you did. But as soon as you thought you were getting close, you would call again and their voices would be even further away.
They were going in the opposite directions.
"Hey, kids!" You called again, "Just stay right there for mom, okay? Stay where you are."
Eventually you do find them, but now you have no idea where you came from so you have no idea where to go. Outside the maze, the rest of the crew is fast asleep as they wait for the five of you to figure it out, Nami being the only one staying awake just in case you made it out earlier than they expected.
You didn't.
"We can't take you guys anywhere," the redhead complained, making you laugh.
Yeah, that was pretty much what the Straw Hat crew had to deal with.
A/N: i hope this lived up to your expectations! i wasn't sure how to piece it all together so just tell me if i missed anything in your request, or if you're not satisfied with any of the parts! :) im open to criticism!
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For the kiss prompts, I think 20 with Kanata and a s/o who's the same height as him would be really cute!
Kanata Yatonokami:
20. Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.
“I’m bored~”
You hopped down one step, then up, then down again, Kanata’s eyes following your movement. He was frowning which wasn’t unusual but he shared your sentiment, as you had both been waiting for a long while for Nayuta to reappear. It had been his idea to go out to this new shopping center as there was a store that piqued his interest, so now the two of you just had to wait until he’d seen all he wanted to. You had both been in the store with him at some point but he’d gotten annoyed, telling you to both stop breathing over his shoulder or he’d take even more time; you’d left the store like scolded children, waiting for him at the steps that led down toward the exit.
“One, two, three, one, two, three,” You hummed as you counted the steps, using one leg to hop up and down as if it were a personal challenge. Kanata was watching you like a hawk now, arms crossed as his gaze clearly told you to cut it out. You were just trying to keep yourself occupied! So, you ignored him, humming your tunes again and hopping back down to begin your count anew.
Kanata took that chance to rise, hands stuffed in his pockets as he took a step down but still managed to loom over you. It wasn’t a sight you got to see often and even as he scolded you to stop acting childish or else you’d get hurt; you were too distracted by the artificial added height to look at anything else. Kanata is well aware that you’re staring at him for too long, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention.
“What?” He asked, irritated.
“Nothing, it’s just… You’ve never been taller than me is all.” Kanata huffed at that, arms crossed again at your light teasing. You giggled at his sensitivity, hopping up two steps so you could stand on the same one as him. You leaned forward to rub your nose against his, giggling again as he didn’t bother uncrossing his arms despite returning the affection. “You know you’re more than tall enough for me normally, Kanata. Any taller and it wouldn’t be as easy to kiss you, anyway~!”
Kanata considered, for the briefest second, kicking you down the stairs but his love for you won out.
#Paradox Live#Paralive#Paradox Live x Reader#Paralive x Reader#Paradox Live Imagines#Paralive Imagines#kanata yatonokami#Yatonokami Kanata#Kanata Yatonokami x Reader#Kiss Prompts#Scenario
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andrew minyard was so sassy about being the only one driving his car but it was prob just because he was embarrassed about how long it would take to push the seat back.
#as someone who is 5’1#i don’t understand how anyone was intimidated by him#THERE ARE CHILDREN WHO ARE TALLER THAN HIM#andrew minyard#aftg#all for the game#andreil
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literally every single one of my ocs (who are dudes, or masc-leaning) are the most doofy-aaaa boyfriend ever. like without fail i don't think i can even write a guy who, regardless of composition and personality, will turn into the most stuttering man-loser the second he's confronted with the sheer beauty/levelheadedness/competency of his boyfriend/wife/girlfriend/whatever
#rereading old rps with friends and im seeing a Pattern#highlights of like a 3 second stammer ending with “I'm Drunk” while being so red faced man forgot how to Breathe. ill let you guys guess wh#another example is the most dude bro grrr biker gang 5ever Dante whos like SHUT tHE FUCK UP I'm gonna go visit my girlfriend >:( teehehehe#or milo 'whoopty doo here comes the goo' mason kicking his legs and twirling a phone cord when charlie is within 10 miles of him#its an ongoing trend and its so funny to me#alphonse can be a smartass 24/7 but the second he's flirted back with he's like a puddle. ESPECIALLY if its his very platonic wife who he's#like HEHEHE im marrrIIIeeeEDdd i had a huge crush on my WIFE thats so embarrassing hehehe#bros 7'6" hes got big dog energy#biddley too but in a subtle way i promise#even DUPONT whos not even IN a relationship he's a single father but the mother of his children he's so like#yes MAAM at her#skimpy little bastard and his wife whos taller than god#anyway end of post#oc#ocs
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Derek is a short king.
#this is actually why he's mean to people /jk#he's just so miserably upset that he's short he decides to take it out on other people- including his children who both ended up being#taller than him#aphmau#aphverse#aphblr#mystreet#aphmau mystreet#derek lycan#aphmau derek#tw derek lycan#mystreet aphmau#headcanon#aphmau headcanons#rewrite#not canonly but- i genuinely don't care#mystreet derek#short derek lycan
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I actually can’t believe I’ve never done this before but please look at my Small Characters next to human children that are about the same heights that they are, which is to say, a statistically average three, four, and five year old
#dnd#dungeons and dragons#gnome#halfling#character art#in other news I can't believe I spaced out my gnomes' heights to almost correspond exactly with how much the average preschooler grows/ year#this is so funny to me oh my god. it's one thing to know in GENERAL that even most children are bigger than Idri or whomever#it's another thing to be like 'oh the last time humans are about that size is when they're still literally toddlers' sfdkgjdfkg#Elyss' niece is five and now I wanna draw Eldryn with her real bad hahaha#Belial's niece and Jermaine's sister are both also about the same age but I dunno how much Eldryn's interacted with them....?#ON THE OTHER HAND..... BABIES PLAYDATE AND ALSO ELDRYN IS THERE BECAUSE I LOVE HIM.... HM#lmao now I'm on a tangent oops#Aubree also kind of adopted a little boy who's like six-- he's a full head taller than she is but I did already know that lol#'how tall is Seth' is different than 'how old would a kid that's this specific height be'#my OCs#Melliwyk#Idri#Aubree#Felix#dungeons and doodles
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)
synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break
word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)
contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry
notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak
everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.
they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.
you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.
you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.
when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.
satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.
it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.
he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.
you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.
but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.
“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”
you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.
he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.
he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.
“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”
“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”
“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”
“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.
he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.
“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”
“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”
“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”
“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”
“sure,” he chuckles.
and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.
“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.
he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.
great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.
you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.
“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”
“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”
“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.
with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”
you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.
you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.
you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.
—————
just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.
the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.
this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.
how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.
his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.
instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.
his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.
the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.
“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.
“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”
it’s way too early for this.
by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.
that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.
maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.
“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”
he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.
that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.
“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”
“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”
“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”
satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.
but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.
his bare chest, in fact.
you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.
“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.
this is…new. very, very new.
“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”
“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.
you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.
“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.
it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.
“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”
“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”
“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”
“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.
and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.
this is going to be a longer break than you thought.
—————
the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.
you grin, reaching over when—
“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”
“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.
“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.
“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.
he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.
it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.
“do you still throw away the ends of these?”
you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”
“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.
“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”
“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.
“yeah, as if.”
“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.
ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.
“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.
“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he���s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”
yeah. very snobby.
“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.
he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.
“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”
“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”
“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”
“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.
satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”
“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”
“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”
something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.
“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”
“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”
“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”
it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.
“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.
“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”
“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.
“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”
“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”
“i know you’re not talking—”
“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.
but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.
“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”
“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”
“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”
“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”
“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”
“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.
suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.
“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”
you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.
you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.
you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.
and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.
—————
satoru meets you when you’re six.
he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard.
somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.
a magnetizing one, in fact.
it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.
when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.
the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?
he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.
so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.
your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better.
he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.
“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.
it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.
“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.
satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.
it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.
“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”
he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru.
“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”
he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.
fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you.
“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”
and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.
would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.
god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.
he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you.
it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?
——
“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”
“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends.
oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted.
“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”
“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”
“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”
“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”
“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”
satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.
silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.
—————
it’s night four.
satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new.
he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome.
scarily handsome, in fact.
you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend.
maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.
you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.
you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.
“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”
“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.
“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”
“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused.
he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”
“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”
“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.
satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.
“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”
“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.
it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.
“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.
you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?
he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”
you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it.
“how would you know—”
“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”
“he was hot—”
“yeah? and i’m not?”
he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.
“satoru, what are you—”
“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”
“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.
it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.
“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”
and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.
so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.
your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.
“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”
“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”
“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.
no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.
“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.
“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.
“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”
“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.
“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.
“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.
for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”
“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”
“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”
you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.
“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”
that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.
it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.
“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”
“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.
but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.
“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”
before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.
you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.
“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.
“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”
he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.
satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.
your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.
suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.
it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.
you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.
he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.
“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”
“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”
so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.
“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”
“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”
“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”
“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”
“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”
“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”
satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him.
your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.
the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.
you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.
“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”
“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”
“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.
it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.
your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.
“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”
“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.
“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”
suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.
fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.
“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”
do not comment about a part 2
but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything
#teepods.writings#fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut
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half-foots are often mistaken for young tallmen or dwarves by people who don’t know about them.
But Chilchuck is like the 6’5” of half-foots. I wonder if he’s not even immune to that in half-foot communities. Like imagine you’re at the market and you see the tallest guy you ever saw. Like “holy shit he’s tall” tall. He’s a head taller than everyone else. APPARENTLY half-foots and tallmen can have fertile children. People probably constantly ask him if he’s half-tallman or half-dwarf. Maybe not dwarf cause he’s so skinny.
Chilchuck is also a middle child of 5 siblings. I wonder if his whole family is like that or if he’s just token beanpole. Man, the whiplash he must’ve felt the first time he went to a more diverse area and everyone started calling him small. no wonder he drinks
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kids remind me, often, of the things i've taught myself out of.
i have a big dog. he looks like a deer. he is taller than most young children. while we were on a trail the other day, a boy coming our direction saw us and froze. he took a step back and said: "i'm feeling nervous. your - your dog is kind of big."
goblin and i both stopped walking immediately. "he is kind of a big dog," i admitted. "he's called a greyhound. they are gentle but they are pretty tall, which is kind of scary, you're right. their legs are so long because they are made for running fast. i am sorry we scared you. would you like us to stand still while you move past us, or would you feel more safe in your body if we move and you stay still?'
"oh. i didn't know that about - greyhounds. i think i ... i want to stay still," he said. at this point, his adult had caught up to us. "i'm nervous about the dog," he told her, "so i'm - i'm gonna stay still." she didn't argue. she didn't make fun of him. she just smiled at him and at me and held his hand while goblin and i, with as wide of a berth as we could make, crept our way through.
behind us, i heard him exhale a deep breath and kind of laugh - "he was really big, huh? she said it's because greyhounds have to go fast."
"he was big," she said. "i understand why that could have made you a little scared."
"yeah. next time i - next time do you think i could maybe ask to touch him? when - i mean, next time, maybe, if i'm not nervous."
later, going to a work event, in the big city, i stood outside, trembling. my social anxiety as a caught bird in my chest. i took a deep breath and turned to my coworker. she's not even really my friend yet. i told her: "i feel nervous about this. i am not used to meeting new people, ever since covid."
she laughed, but not in a mean way. she said she was nervous too. she reached her hand out and held mine, and we both took another deep breath and walked in like that, interlinked. a few people asked us - together? - and i told the truth: i feel nervous, and she's helping. over and over i watched people relax too, admitting i feel really kind of shy lately actually, thank you for saying that.
the next time i go to an event, and i feel a little scared, i ask right away: wanna hold hands? this feels a little dangerous. i hesitate less. i don't hide it as much. i watch for other people who are also nervous and say - it's kinda hard, huh?
i know, logically, i'm not good at asking for help. but i am also not good at noticing when i need help. i've trained myself out of asking completely, but i've also trained myself to never accept my own fears or excuses. i have trained myself to tamp down every anxiety and just-push-through. i don't know what i'm protecting myself from - just that i never think to admit it to anyone.
but every person on earth occasionally needs comfort. every person on earth occasionally needs connection. many of us were taught independence is the same thing as never needing anything.
each of us should have had an adult who heard - i feel nervous and held our hand and asked us how we could be helped to feel safe. no judgement, and no chiding. many of us did not. many of us were punished for the ways that we seemed "weak".
but here is something: i am an adult now. and i get nervous a lot, actually. and if you are an adult and you are feeling a little nervous - come talk to me. we can hold hands and figure out what will help us feel safe in our bodies. and maybe, next time, if we're brave, we can pet the dog that's passing.
#spilled ink#warm up#so i have worked in childcare as a teacher for like 15 years#hence the language behind ''what helps you be safe in your body?''#like you can tell by what i say here i have EXPERIENCE with kids.#but tbh the REAL teacher moment is watching a 6/7 year old say#''this makes me nervous#can you please not come closer?''#as a teacher i was IMMEDIATELY like ... ahh whomever is raising you is doing an EXCELLENT job holy shit#verbalizing your fears? trusting an adult to listen?#ability to recognize a way you might feel safer?#like .... this kid's caregivers.... that one moment... i was like .... who are u i wanna french kiss you big on the mouth
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~ Costume? That’s Barley Clothes.~
Theo Nott x fem!Reader
[masterlist]
Summary: Malfoy!Reader who’s annoyed that they can’t be Theo’s date to the Halloween party dresses up to get his attention and ends up with more than one set of eyes on her. This is kinda short, I just wanted a Halloween themed oneshot.
Warnings:Possessive Behavior,Jealousy, Secret Relationship,Toxic(ish)Theo,Smut,Choking, Creampie.
“Baby, you know I’d go with you if it were up to me. I thought he wouldn’t be there I’m sorry.” Theo was annoyed to say the least, not only did his plan fail miserably, but you also seemed to blame him for it. The only reason he even wanted to go to this stupid party was for you, but of course Draco just had to decide last minute he wanted to go after all.
“I’m sorry, I know you wanted to dress up but he’s not gonna sit this party out.” You just eyed the much taller boy, he hadn’t put on his costume yet and could easily decide to stay with you but, “He’d get suspicious,” like it would be the end of the world if Draco knew. All you could do was roll your eyes with a sigh, laying down on your bed with a book as Theo watched you.
“Are you gonna say anything?” You just huffed at him, meeting his eyes for a second before returning to pretending to read your book, “If Draco found out I ditched the party he’s gonna come looking, and if he finds he in his little sister’s dorm he’d throw a fit.” You slammed your book shut, crossing your arms with furrowed brows before eyeing him from where you sat.
“His little sister huh?” You were frustrated, you couldn’t tell what he wanted anymore. One minute he’d be calling you his sweetheart, future wife and mother of his children, and the next he’d barley look at you, laughing in the Common Room from jokes Draco makes at your expense. “Just go to your party, I’m not some little kid who’s gonna cry without your attention for an hour,”
You huffed as his jaw clenched, eyeing you with a flash of anger, “I didn’t say you were a little kid, It’s just that if D-“
“Yeah I know if Draco finds out you’re in trouble,” You sighed as you rolled your eyes, slipping off your bed and leaving Theo trailing you with his darkening eyes, “I’m gonna take a shower, have fun at the party.”
Theo grumbled to himself as he left your dorm, slamming the door behind him as hard as he could just as you slammed the bathroom door. You sighed to yourself as you stared into your mirror, you weren’t just gonna sit out on your last Hogwarts Halloween party with Theo and he should have known that. You quickly threw on your costume and did your makeup light, wanting the glittery cat ears on your head to be the center of attention.
You wore a small black dress that could honestly barley be called a dress, paired with black heels that would bring your height to only a couple inches under Theo. You let your hair fall straight behind your shoulders, holding it back with the cat-ear headband, black eyeliner bringing out the color of your eyes with classic red lipstick drawing attention to your lips. You decided for no bra to let the dress hug your figure entirely, pulling it all together with a tight black belt adorned with a sleek black cat’s tail.
Goosebumps covered your skin as you made your way up the stairs to the packed Slytherin Common Room. A haze of smoke flitted over the various packs of dancing and conversing students while you made your way through to Draco and his friends usual spot.
Your skimpy black cat costume was basic, but a classic that was sure to drive Theo crazy. Your eyes met his as soon as the crowd parted to let you through to the group, leaving almost immediately to rake his eyes across your body as you approached. However you completely ignored him, walking up to Draco and announcing your presence before slipping away to get a drink, feeling Theo’s dead eyes stare into your back as you did so.
You hastily filled a glass with spiked punch and leant against the table with a sigh as the lanky figure of Lorenzo Berkshire approached the drink table only a few feet away from the group,“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight,” You eyed his loose button up and black jeans, he wasn’t wearing costume and if he was you had no clue what it was but you didn’t mind. He’d do.
“I wasn’t planning to at first,” You lied, turning to fully face the tall brunette, feeling Theo’s burning gaze on you both now, “But since it’s all you guy’s last year I figured I should come to as many parties as possible this year, don’t you agree?”
You maintained eye contact with Enzo as you lightly bit your lip, watching his eyes fall to watch it bounce back in place before meeting yours again. His eyes lingered in yours for a second as a smile slowly grew on his face. “I’m gonna be honest here, I thought you and Theo might’ve had something going on.” Enzo’s voice was low and intoxicating as he inched closer to you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Theo zoning in on the words spoken between you and his friend with a clenched jaw, no longer trying to hide his annoyance.
You laughed sweetly at up at Enzo as he eyed you with his bloodshot gaze, “Theo? He’s just my brother’s best friend Lorenzo, why would there be anything going on between us?” You had to make an effort to keep your eyes on the lean boy in front of you as his hand found it’s way to your waist, he tugged you closer to him slightly just as the shadow of Theodore Nott engulfed you.
“Walk away Enzo.” The boy in front of you retreated with raised hands and a mocking smile, sending you a wink that made you giggle as he slipped into the crowd, much to Theo’s dismay. Theo’s large hand took in your wrist as he tugged you toward the boys’s dorms. “Aren’t you afraid Draco will see you leave with me Teddy?”
You forced the most sincere voice you could muster, poking out your lip in a dratamatic pout as he turned to you with daring eyes, “I don’t fucking care.” He spat, tugging you into his dorm room before slamming the door shut behind you both.
“What the fuck are you wearing first of all?” Theo snapped, turning to meet your eyes as he loosened the tie around his neck with a huff. You looked down at your dress then back to him with your eyebrows furrowed before simply saying, “A costume.”
“A costume?” He chuckled, poking his tongue into his cheek as he eyed your body again, “That’s barely clothes.” Theo sighed, eyes dead and set into yours before eyeing your outfit again, though this time he didn’t seem to have a problem with it at all.
“It’s the same thing I would have been wearing if you came with me,” You huffed, crossing your arms with a roll of your eyes before meeting his gaze again with a challenging stare.
“That’s different, I’d have been with you.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he spoke, taking in his sentence with a laugh and shake of your head. “So maybe you should have come with me?”
“I would have if it weren’t for your annoying ass brother,” He snapped, stepping closer as you stood your ground in front of his bed. “Speaking of which, I’m just Draco’s best friend now? Last time I fucking checked not all of Draco’s best friends get to fuck you almost every weekend,” He shouted, his eyes bore directly into yours but you didn’t waver. He didn’t scare you and he knew that, but you both knew you probably should have feared him a little.
“Well I guess I could change that couldn’t I, Enzo seemed rather eager, maybe I’ll start with him.” You laughed, biting at your lip and going to turn around before feeling Theo’s large hands dig into your arms, turning you to face him as he shoved you into the end post of his bed.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” His voice was strained, clearly hurt by your jab but you didn’t care, though you probably should have. “Or what?” Your voice dripped with desire as his face edged closer to yours, your thighs clenching together subconsciously and before your knew it his lips were on yours in a hungry kiss. His hands fell to your waist as yours wrapped around to meet in his hair, tugging at it to egg him on as he lifted you just to toss you on his bed.
“You’re a fucking brat.” He growled, crawling up your body as his eyes dug into you before smashing his lips back against yours. Face paint and lipstick smeared together, ending up in each other’s mouths as your teeth clattered together. “Now I’m gonna have to teach Enzo a lesson on who he can and cannot touch because of you.” He whispered into your mouth making you shiver and sending a rush of warmth directly to your core.
Theo’s lips and teeth worked down your neck, nipping at it and leaving a trail of bruises in their wake as his hands worked to push up your dress. You fumbled with his belt, the metal clinking together loudly as you tugged it off of him and tossed it aside before eagerly unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down. Theo quickly moved your panties to the side, lining himself up and meeting your gaze for consent with hooded eyes before filling you up entirely.
He immediately set a ruthless pace, staring into your eyes as he groaned and grabbed at your neck, “If your eyes leave mine you don’t get to come until I say so, understand?”
Your thoughts jumbled together as Theo hit your g-spot over and over, working overtime just to form the word “yes” while Theo picked up his pace. He kept one hand gripping your neck tightly as the other held onto your hip with a brutal grip. “You’re mine Baby, I don’t fucking care who knows anymore. You are mine.” He growled, mostly speaking to himself as he lost himself in your soft walls.
You moaned up at him as you dragged your nails down his toned back pulling a groan from him before wrapping your legs entirely around him and trapping him between them. Theo began speaking Italian down to you, still fucking into you while watching your face intently, you couldn’t understand a single thing he was saying making you glow bright red as he chuckled down to you.
“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He muttered as his hips smacked against yours repeatedly, filling the room with the obscene combination of the smack of skin mixing with your moans and the creak of the bed drowning out his whispers of praise. “You feel so fucking good baby, I’m gonna fucking cum. Can I fill you up Baby?”
You moaned his named loudly as he tugged you closer to him by your neck, stealing your breath as you desperately mumbled a yes into his mouth. His hips snapped into yours faster as his hand fell between your legs, fingers finding your clit immediately to pull out your orgasm. You clenched around Theo as he hissed and sped of his thrusts, driving into you harder as he stuttered and moaned loudly. Your name repeatedly falling from his lips as he came deep inside of you pushing you over the edge, you clamped around him while your legs shook and your head became cloudy only being able to think of Theo as he fell on top of you completely.
Theo slowly pushed himself up further to look down at you, your face, neck, and shoulders smeared with his face paint and red lipstick just as his was, your hair a mess on his pillows, your eyes teary and staring up at him. He swore he’d never seen anything so perfectly ruined in his life.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Draco stood in the doorway, sighing into his hand after taking in the scene in front of him. His best friend had his sister in their dorm, that they shared. “Eh put a fucking sock on the door next time or something.”
Theo turned quickly as the door slammed shut before he could glimpse his friend, “Does that mean he’s not gonna hex me?” Theo asked, eyes fixed on the cloak swinging back and forth on it’s hook on the door.
~~~~
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Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 1 )
Part 2 >>>
Relationship : Fluff
Reader : Female, age 20.
Plot : You are one of the Playcare employees that looks after the Smiling Critters and makes sure all the mascots are in good shape.
The very first day you were assigned to the Playcare, you didn't expect the mascot to be huge and very tall. Hell, even taller than Huggy Wuggy themselves!
You were nervous to be around these mascots but it was your job to keep them at a top notch.
Dogday, the leader of the smiling critters was the first to greet you. His personality is as bright as the sun necklace around his neck.
The others follow his lead and greet you with smiles on their faces, welcoming you to the daycare.
Well, except one.
Which was Catnap.
The purple cat mascot is high up on one of the buildings, watching everything from above and his eyes looking down at you, judging you from afar.
For the first week, you monitor the smiling critters and their behaviours. The others are fine interacting with the children, except for Catnap who prefers to be on his own.
You tried to get the cat to do his job but the mascot refused to listen to you. Which was frustrating.
You were amazed that the technology in place is far more advanced and the mascots in this Playtime Co. have their own personalities like a real person would which was..... intriguing and at the same time.... terrifying.
According to Dogday, Catnap used to be very friendly but he had been distancing himself from the group recently.
He never knows why.
The supervisor told you that Catnap was the most troublesome in the group and they said to keep an eye on the cat and make sure he does his work and doesn't get in any trouble.
It would take time for you to properly work with him. So, you respect the mascot's boundaries and try interacting with him slowly.
Day by day, you make sure to visit him first every time your shift starts. you greet Catnap with a 'Good morning' and 'How are you doing?'.
The cat only stares at you with a swishing tail, you set down a bag of croissants and look up at the mascot.
"Hey, Catnap! If you're hungry, you can have these croissants! Eat it while it's still fresh, okay bud. You can't work with an empty stomach!"
"......"
Again, he just stares at you.
You also learn that these mascots are able to consume organic matter which again shocks you, so you always sneak in some food from the cafe for all the smiling critters, in secret.
The smiling critters began to like you and saw you as their favourite out of all the employees.
Things go on normally in the daycare, the smiling critters keep themselves busy with the children ( that you weren't allow to interact with )
You spend your time in the office and look through the papers. When you were about to take a sip of the hot drink from your cup—
"Hiya, there! Mrs. (L/n)!"
"Oh, f—k!"
You jump out from your seat and some of the hot drink spilled onto your pants causing you to curse under your breath.
It was Dogday.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!"
The dog apologises for startling you and offers you a handkerchief that magically appears out of thin air.
You said you were alright. You turn to ask what makes Dogday come to your office.
The smiling critter just said he wants to see you, saying to you that you have been coup up in your office for hours now.
You were grateful that he was concerned about you but you told him that the papers kept you busy.
"Sorry, bud. I just have a lot of papers to look through. Ya know, I have to keep all of you in shape"
"I see. Thank you for caring and taking care of us angel........unlike the others—anyways!"
Dogday whispers the last part which cannot be heard clearly by you.
"Do you need help with anything? I'm free! I can help you with everything and as a leader of the Smiling Critters, it is also my job to help you too!"
Dogday offers a helping hand, his tail swishing as he awaits for your answers.
You told him you do need help sorting out the papers into the folders which the dog excitedly said yes.
He sits on the floor next to you, since how tall he is. You point out the paper that he needs to sort out in the correct order.
Dogday have trouble picking up the papers with his large hands. You couldn't help but stifle at the sight, yet he managed to find a way of picking up the paper without crumpling it.
After a few hours passed. The bell rings loudly, signalling it was recess time.
You stretch your limbs and stand up from your chair, you turn to Dogday who already finished sorting out all the papers.
"You did a great job there, Dogday. Thank you!"
"Hehe, no problem Mrs. (L/n)! Glad to help!"
"Just call me, (Y/n). Dogday. No need to be so formal and besides I'm not THAT old..."
"Alright, (Y/n)!"
You yawn escape your mouth as you rub your eye, a nice nap is the only thing that comes to your mind after a long hour of paperwork.
Dogday notices how tired you look.
"A good nap will make you feel energetic afterwards!"
"Yeah, it does. I'm going to the staffroom and sleep there. You can go back to the playcare, Dogday"
But the orange dog didn't leave and instead picks you up which surprises you.
Dogday held you close to his body and said.
"No need! You can sleep here with me!"
His arms wrap around your smaller body, your face buried into his chest and his fur smells like vanilla. Which was comforting....
Before you know it, you already drift off to sleep.
"Sleep well, angel...."
Next day.
Following the same routine, you visit Catnap again but the cat was nowhere in sight.
You call out for the feline and you hear a loud thud behind you. Hot breath tickles your back which causes you to quickly turn around to see the purple cat staring at you with beady white eyes.
You hold out an apple pie to him, which the cat takes and devours with a wide open mouth.
"I want....more"
"Huh?"
"More....sweets..."
It was the first time you heard Catnap speak, his voice was deep and distorted.
You now have learned that Catnap likes sweets. Which gives you quite an advantage over him.
"Yes, you can have more sweets.....If you do your job"
You told the cat which he grunts roughly in return.
"You can request any kind of sweets you want in return, I promise. Just as long you do your job as a play care attendant"
Catnap seemingly thinking about the deal that you had offered to him. The sweets seems to get to him since he never gets to eat such food....
It was tempting and he finally agrees with you.
"Okay..."
With that simple okay, Catnap begins to do his job in the play care to Dogday's delight.
After the shift is over, you give Catnap his sweet treats as you promised.
"Haha! See, it wasn't that hard, right! You did a great job there, Catnap! If you keep doing that, I might bake you a cake!"
You praised the feline mascot with a bright smile. Which causes the feline to look away slightly.
The feeling of praise makes his heart flutter with warmth.....
It was a very long day at work and you bid the smiling critters a good night before you leave the playcare.
Unknown to you, some of the higher ups have noticed how well you do with the Smiling Critters.
You are safe....
For now....
A/n : There will be more interaction with Catnap in the next chapter! I am aware that Catnap is Theo which is a child!
I am not sure who resides in Dogday and he might be one of the employees of the playcare since he knows so much.
Relationship between the three would be fluff. If romance, it could be focused on Dogday maybe...?
Well, it's up to you guys.
#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#dogday#catnap#dogday x reader#catnap x reader#smiling critters#poppy playtime x reader#various x reader#fluff
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can you do a Tom Blyth x reader fic wherein they're doing a wired autocomplete interview?
Answering the Web’s Most Searched Questions || Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader
A/n: this was so much fun to make! I apologies for this taking a bit to make hahahaha. Keep the Tom Blyth x reader requests coming 🙏
Warnings: nothing but reader n tom being such a wholesome couple
Wc:
Divider by @pommecita
“Hi I’m Tom Blyth!” You smile at the camera. “And I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom waves to the camera as you both hold in your laughter but fail miserably. “And this is the wired autocomplete interview,” Tom clicks his tongue pointing to the camera.
“Who should go first?” You look to Tom as you see a glint of mischief in his eyes, “let’s paper scissor rock it?” He asks as you turn your body slightly to him. The next sped up montage was of the two of you playing paper scissors rock and not surprise that you won earning a groan from Tom as you are passed your board.
“Okay first one, who is y/n y/l/n……. dating?” You read it as you and Tom chuckle. “Who are you dating, Y/n?” Tom jokes as he looks at you quizzically. “It’s actually a secret,” You shrug, “Do I know this person?” Tom continues, “Yes actually, you are very familiar with this person,”
“Hmm, interesting,” Your boyfriend pretended to think about it as you wink to the camera, discreetly pointing to Tom beside you. “Moving on, Does Y/n Y/l/n have…… a pet?” “Yes I do actually, his name is tchai and he’s a spoodle. I bring him to set all the time and he just comes along and chills with us.” You say as an instagram post of yours pops up on the screen.
y/n_y/l/n
Liked by tomblyth, hunterschaffer, rachelzegler, and 3,837,202 others
My boys 💗
tagged: @tomblyth
“Next one, can y/n y/l/n….. sing and act?” You laugh at this one as Tom does the same, leaning his head against yours. “Unfortunately I cannot sing and act. That’s not me in the tbosas film, that’s actually my stunt double that looks identical to me and it’s actually Tom that sings all of the songs” You give a thumbs up as Tom and the crew start laughing.
“Does y/n y/l/n have any tattoos? Yes! I actually have a matching tattoo with my boyfriend, it’s on my pinky and it’s half of a heart and he has the other half.” You put your hand up and point to it as Tom quickly puts his beside your pinky, his other half connecting with yours.
“Oh my god, Tom has the exact same one. What a coincidence!” You giggle, “Such a coincidence right?” He shakes his head. “What does….. y/n y/l/n look like? Well if you guys didn’t know, I look like this” You point to yourself as Tom places his palm under your chin with a grin.
“What was y/n y/l/n’s…… first acting role? My first acting role was in Billy the Kid that came out in 2022 and Tom here is actually plays the main character Billy.” You nudge his arm as he gives a thumbs up, “And I play Dulcinea which is Billy’s lover at one point.“ You answer before you start to peel off the last one.
“Does y/n y/l/n have… a child?!” Your jaw drops open as Tom laughs out loud. “Do I have a child? No! I’m still very young but I do plan on having children in the future. I do have a younger sister who is 4 so I think people mistake her for my daughter,” You let out a chuckle.
“Grace does very much look like you I do have to say,” Tom points out as you nod in agreement. “Yeah I have to agree with that aswell, probably why people think she is my daughter. Especially when Tom and I are taking care of her for a day, people always say what a lovely family we look,” You giggle.
~
“Finally my turn,” Tom says in excitement as he’s handed his board. “First one, How….. tall is Tom Blyth? That’s actually a good question uh-“ “For reference, I’m 5’3,” You say as Tom stands up pulling you with him. “There’s quite a height difference,” You laugh as you look up at him.
“I think I’d say around 6ft? Yeah, I’m pretty sure because Hunter is 5’10 and I’m abit taller than her. So yeah, 6ft.” “Next one, What is Tom Blyth’s…. Hidden talent?” Your eyes lock with Tom’s, “It’s not a hidden talent, but I am quite a good whistler.” “Yes! Tom is so good at it,” You nudge him, “Don’t make me do it,” He smiles, biting his lip as you give him a look.
“Do it!” “Okay, fine,” Tom then does the hunger games whistle, three fingers in the air as you watch in amazement. “I was really nervous then,” He chuckles as you laugh to yourself, agreeing.
“Does Tom Blyth…. Have a girlfriend? He says slyly as you look at the camera, “No. I do not have a girlfriend,” Hearing his words, you look at him and find him nodding his head as he says it which makes you smile at his silliness. “What a shame,” You pat his shoulder jokingly as he shakes his head, laughing.
“Lucky last, Is Tom Bltyh… a father? seriously, what is up with these questions?” He says in slight disbelief. “Are you?” You tease him, “Like Y/n, I get mistaken as her little sister’s father but no. I have no children,” “Your children would be so good looking,” You point out before you could really process it in your head.
Tom looks at you in surprise but laughs, “You think?” He maintains eye contact with you as you nod, almost in a trance as you stare into his piercing blue eyes that you could stare in all day. “Hmm, that’s good to know you think that, babe” His pet name for you slips out as your eyes slightly widen.
Tom quickly changes the topic when he realises. “Well that’s it from us today,” He says in a happy tone, “Thank you for watching this video!” “bye!” You both say in sync as you both throw the boards at the camera before it cuts off.
#tom blyth#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus snow#the hunger games#hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you
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HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)
Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later.
Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up.
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.
WORDCOUNT― 5.4k
PAIRING― jay x afab reader
CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.
NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!!
nsfw tags under cut:
nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show? What’s not to love about it?
There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire.
It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?
Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work.
To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage.
Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers?
You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard.
He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.
Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance.
Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.
He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status.
It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage.
In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday.
Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.
You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money.
This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.
You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.
Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see.
Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it.
It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does.
Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center.
You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits.
Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time.
Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.
Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves.
And, well, would you look at that.
You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you.
“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”
You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass.
“Jake, again?”
The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though.
“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe.
“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”
“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”
“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.”
Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out.
“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”
“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays.
“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good.
This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity.
Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.
“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even.
The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others.
The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.
Oh.
Jackpot.
“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?”
He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him.
“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him.
“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”
Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.
“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.”
With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with.
You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him.
The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips.
Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body.
Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it.
“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?”
Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night.
“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule.
He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap.
Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has.
You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face.
Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.
“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly, turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?”
He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.
“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him.
“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.
When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.
“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him.
He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.
“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.
Rules, rules, fucking rules.
Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.
You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper.
“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”
You didn’t expect him to nod back at you.
“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”
You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free.
The game is on now though, it seems, as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out.
You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”
Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care.
“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile.
You smile at him, that half a mil is yours.
“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?”
Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it.
“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.
“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him.
When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win.
“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him.
“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?”
You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin.
“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.
“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?”
You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you.
“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”
Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.
“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.
Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.
You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.
Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks.
After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked.
Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it.
The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.
Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special.
You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching.
Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined.
“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him.
You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him.
“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment.
“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”
You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick.
“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.
When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you.
In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out.
His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in.
“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric.
You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice.
“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags.
You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face.
Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now.
You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.
And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.
He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.
His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.
“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.
“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture.
“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him.
Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker.
“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.”
You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back.
“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing.
And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls.
Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak.
“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”
He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you.
You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway.
If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked.
Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it.
The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again.
And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping.
And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)
By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.
“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.”
He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this.
You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you. He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do.
Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you.
“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”
“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”
Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held.
“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.
“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”
He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely?
“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.
“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.”
“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch.
Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.
“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”
“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door.
“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”
You watch him reach for the doorknob.
“Saturday?” You ask.
“Saturday.”
And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.
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*NSFW* How to train your pet Human pt. 3 (Yandere!Alien x GN!Reader)
CW: Dub-con, mild psychological distress, mind break, dead dove fic
Part 1, part 2
Kirtch slumped over his friend's standing chair, miserable and mopey.
A tall creature, taller than even Kirtch, sighed dramatically, sauntering around their depressed friend with a smaller horned being crawling behind them.
"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong." Kirtch whined pathetically in Jaudna's native tongue. Jaudna made a gurgling sound with the soft spot on their head, the closest human equivalent being someone rolling their eyes. They sprawled across their lounging seat, motioning for their pet to stay on his knees.
"I'll tell you exactly what you've done wrong. You pampered them too much."
"I punish them!"
"You punished them for their escape attempt. That was it. You've allowed your pet to test your authority in plenty of ways after that."
The man on his knees pleaded with his eyes to be let up, but stayed perfectly still, like he wasn't alive. Kirtch noted Jaudna's pet's demeanor with discomfort. That discomfort only lasted until he imagined (Reader) in that same position, looking up at him with their large dewy eyes, waiting so patiently to be held by him... his discomfort was replaced by jealousy.
"You don't understand, (Reader's) such a sweet little pet, and whenever they struggle they're so cute about it. I just can't understand why they aren't happy."
"Humans' minds are incredibly flawed. According to the few psychological texts I have gotten my claws on over the years, their memory is not set in stone like ours, it is fickle and easily manipulated. One of my books referenced a case in the nation called 'The United States of America' where nearly the entire country fell into panic over an imaginary evil, because a few doctors used a phoney science called 'hypnotism', a practice they believed could help recover forgotten memories, on a bunch of children, but accidentally implanted false memories of abuse, leaving the children traumatized, believing that they had been victims of a horrific occult."
Kirtch looked to his good friend nervously. "Are you implying I do something nefarious to my pet's mind?"
"No, I'm showcasing an example of how stupidly easy it should be to train your pet to love you." They tossed a book into Kirtch's hands, the cover printed with a photograph of a wild looking man, with fluffy hair and dark, hateful eyes. "Hypnotism isn't the only creative way humans have learned to reprogram each other."
Kirtch almost threw the book back, but saw Jaudna's unnamed pet still sitting so patiently for his master, and the pain in his body where his heart may have been throbbed again. "Thank you.. Jaudna."
(Reader) had waited for what they assumed to be well over an Earth day, alone in Kirtch's quarters, waiting for his return. The only company they received were the employees who brought their meals, speaking down at them in a language they didn't know, but could understand the disgust. It had been over a month since their fight with Kirtch. Every day since had been nothing but hell, feeling like their heart had been ripped out, they laid in their bed cage, only moving when necessary, allowing themselves to hide away inside their own mind.
The main door opened again, and (Reader) could hear Kirtch's long, graceful steps as he passed through the study and into the bedroom. "(Reader)? Are you still in bed?"
In an act of defiance, (Reader) kept their mouth shut, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders. But it was of little use, as Kirtch easily lifted their purposefully dead weighted body out of the bed.
"I'm sorry I was gone for so long, pet, but I had to see an old friend for advice." He carried (Reader) back to his desk, sitting them in his lap, fighting to hold them upright as they flopped about limply. "(Reader), please sit up so I can take off your shirt."
He began working on the wrists, the intricate metal cuffs with multiple buttons that almost acted like locks, and (Reader) subtly straightened their back to give him better access to the neck corset thing, thankful to finally have it off for a couple hours at least. (Reader) had grown to find it somewhat elegant the past few months, but it still was an incredible pain in the ass.
Feeling the air on their neck was bliss, and (Reader) immediately ran their fingers over their skin. (Reader) breathed a deep sigh, relaxing their body unintentionally. But almost as soon as their hands left their throat, a new collar was latched into place, a loud mechanism clicking as it tightened, stabbing the back of their neck with what felt like a fixed needle.
(Reader) cried out in pain, sprawling out their limbs on reflex, pushing themselves out of Kirtch's embrace and onto the floor, lying naked on their knees as they clawed at the collar, desperate to relieve the pain.
"What?? Why?" Their voice was barely audible through their sobs.
"I'm so sorry my pet, the pain will end soon, wait-" Kirtch pushed a button on what looked like a remote, and (Reader) could physically feel the rush of liquid enter their body, then the pain lightened, leaving (Reader) almost euphoric in it's absence.
"What is this? Why did you do this?" Betrayal laced their tone, and Kirtch looked almost on the verge of tears, but he stood still, refusing his urge to scoop up his little pet and beg for forgiveness.
"I know now that I didn't train you correctly, and for that I am sorry. I've given you too much leeway, and that is why you've been so unhappy." He took a ragged breath, thumbing the controller as he thought out his words. "I didn't want to do this, but I care about your happiness. This is for the best."
"So you put a shock collar on me?" (Reader) asked incredulously, spitting venom.
"No, nothing barbaric like that!" Kirtch looked hurt, flinching as he almost dropped onto his knees to comfort (Reader). "I just need to convince you that you're happy here with me, just as I did the first night you were here, to help you release your stress."
(Reader) remembered the shot he gave them, that first night when Kirtch used a toy to get them off, the hormones he artificially added to their body to make them feel pleasure, and then thought about the pain in the back of their neck. The color drained from their face. There were only two options; plead or double down.
"You can manipulate me all you like, I'll never be happy here." A tear escaped as (Reader) transformed their hurt into anger. "I deserve someone who will love me, not as a pet, but as an equal. Because I am a human fucking being. And we have partnerships. We don't jack off our pets, we do not love our pets like we love the people we have sex with, because that- that is not okay! Why did you.." (Reader) couldn't stop themselves from crying, looking up to try to at least slow the waterworks.
The silence between them was loud. (Reader) turned away, wiping away their snot with their bare arms.
"Pet, noun; a domestic or tamed animal kept for companionship or pleasure. Adjective; denoting a thing that one devotes special attention to or feels particularly strongly about." (Reader) looked up, horrified. "Your's may not be my first language, but I feel I had a pretty decent grasp on my understanding of what a pet is."
Kirtch placed a hand over his face to hide his expression.
"You'll be happier once this is all over. I promise."
"You son of a-!" (Reader) couldn't finish their sentence, more fluid passed into their spine, followed by an immediate sense of emptiness. Extreme anxiety flooded their body, causing severe stomach pain almost instantly. They collapsed, holding onto their midsection, their bare skin clammy. "What? Why?"
"No more talking back to me, pet." Kirtch kept his voice steady.
(Reader) cried out, rapidly becoming exhausted from heavy nothingness filling their body. "Please.. stop.."
Kirtch nodded, appearing relieved. He pushed another button, and the emptiness ebbed away, leaving (Reader) numb.
"I don't understand why you're doing this." (Reader) weakly grumbled, too tired to pick themselves up.
"Because I want you to be happy."
"I'll never be happy with you."
"Why?"
"Because! I deserve to be loved!"
"I love you-"
"Fucking liar." (Reader) snarled, knowing that this would cause them to be punished again, but needing to get in the last word. Kirtch looked so miserable, so crushed by (Reader's) words, but they felt vindicated by his pain. They needed to twist the knife deeper.
He smiled, so sadly, and grabbed a blanket, bending onto one knee as he covered his pet. "I love you, (Reader)."
Their heart clenched, and their face flushed. Immediately they searched his hands for the remote. "S-stop that."
"I love you."
Chemicals pumped into their neck, making (Reader) feverish and causing their thighs to ache. Their breath hitched, and tears of betrayal escaped. "I hate you."
"I know."
More pain gripped their throat, regret causing physical discomfort. "Why are you doing this?"
His smooth shelled fingers caressed their jaw, tenderly cradling (Reader's) face as though he needed them. Kirtch's touch sent shivers across (Reader's) skin, and they couldn't tell if it was because of the collar or their loneliness, but they wanted to pull him closer, make him touch them more.
"I will live for much longer than you. I will watch you grown old, and die. Even then, I will still love you. You are the most incredible creature I've ever met. I don't mind if you push me away, and slap at me. I just want you to be happy, at least most of the time." His head grew closer, his hardened face almost brushing (Reader's). "Let me make you happy."
'I need to fight back. Make him pay! I'm practically a slave! He bought me! I'll never see my family again because of him!'
(Reader) leaned forward, mind melting through their ears from the intense heat, and smashed their lips onto where his should have been.
All rational thoughts were drowned out by the intense need. They needed him, his love. (Reader) was aware of the sound of buttons clicking, but they couldn't stop, crawling onto Kirtch's body, feeling the edges of his joints scraping their back as his hands hungrily roamed their body, wanting to touch everything.
They would have felt ashamed, knowing how aroused they were, their exposed body touching Kirtch's stomach. Sweat was clinging to (Reader's) skin, and their eyes drooped stupidly. The only thing they could think of was relieving themselves, and wanting to see Kirtch relieved as well.
"Are you going to fuck me?" (Reader) whined between wet kisses, drunk on his touches.
"I will, if you want me to."
Their mood shifted, frustration beginning to surface again. "No. If you love me, wouldn't you want me?"
Kirtch sighed, fiddling with the remote behind (Reader's) back. "I do not have the same nervous system as humans do. We only engage in sexual acts for the purpose of procreation."
Shame shocked (Reader), sobering them up instantly. "Oh. I- I am so sorry." (Reader) moved to get off of Kirtch, but was held in place by the much stronger being.
"I will, to make you happy."
"No, I'm sorry! It won't make me happy knowing you aren't feeling good. I'm-I'm sorry, please let me go."
Kirtch pressed the button again, watching his pet's face darken and their mouth go from frightened to slack jawed. "Knowing you are feeling pleasure, from me, and only me, will bring me more joy than I can express." His cloak was ripped away, revealing his gorgeously colored exoskeleton. Kirtch gripped (Reader's) face tighter, forcing his blue tongue deep into their mouth, bursting with pride at the sounds (Reader) was making.
"What do you want me to do?" Kirtch asked, not intending on sounding like he was teasing them, but Kirtch craved the sound of their voice begging him.
"Please.." (Reader) swallowed their drool, feeling the hormones pumping into their brain, but too horny to care. "Please fuck me."
The spot on his pelvis where a human's genitals would be split open and a long, slimy cock revealed itself, growing behind (Reader's) back to a horrifying size. (Reader) only became aware of his erection when it fell forward, slapping against (Reader's) ass and lower back. In their intoxicated state, they turned back to look at what had suddenly touched them, and their eyes grew large in surprise. "Is that..? That's too big..."
Off balance and tipsy, (Reader) turned around, still sitting on Kirtch's abdomen, so that they were facing his exposed dick, and touched it experimentally. It was ridiculously huge, but because of the hormones being injected into (Reader's) neck, they were ravenous, using both hands to pump up and down on the shaft as they stuck the thin tipped head into their mouth, tasting Kirtch passionately. Kirtch was beyond elated, watching his precious pet so needy for him.
Kirtch picked (Reader) up, moaning at the popping sound as he pulled their mouth away from his body, seeing nothing but love in (Reader's) eyes as he spun them back to face him, and slowly began lowering (Reader) onto his naturally lubricated member. "Keep looking at me."
(Reader's) mind was hazy, and it felt like they were about to die, saliva and alien fluids leaking out their mouth and down their chin. Their internal voice had gone silent, the amount of tampering that had been done to their brain left (Reader) devoid of rational thought and intellect. "Yes sir." They barely got the words out as Kirtch entered their body, sliding into their needy little hole easily and without resistance, ramming himself in so their pelvis smacked into his shell with a wet plop, bringing (Reader) to a climax just from entering.
"Smile for me, pet." Kirtch cooed joyfully, loving how (Reader's) body spasmed, before slowly lifting them up, revealing the trail of their combined wetness stretching between their reproductive organs.
(Reader) smiled, reacting on autopilot as they rode out their orgasm, practically biting off their tongue when their sensitive body connected with Kirtch's again. "Ahhh, I already came! Stop!!" Their words cried for relief, however their voice and smile demanded more. It was too much, and (Reader) did want a break, but it also felt amazing, and that dirty little part of themselves that was desperate for love needed their body to be abused.
Kirtch bounced (Reader) on his cock, fucking them like a toy, regretting that he didn't have a camera rolling to capture just how adorable his pet was in his hands. "Look at how happy you are, pet! Don't you want to be this happy all the time? Don't you always want to be happy, with me?"
Kirtch greedily pushed the button again, peppering (Reader) with kisses as they came again, their sticky juices splattering on his stomach. The squelching sound of (Reader's) bruising body getting fucked by the hard as steel monster beneath them was music to Kirtch's ears. He had, embarrassingly, read the book his friend had lent him, and knew now how humans used pleasure to keep brainwashed people by their side. But it wasn't just pleasure, it was that feeling of connection. He had thought about what (Reader) had said, that humans don't jack off their pets, and that made sense, for animals that did not share the same level of intelligence as an adult human. What (Reader) needed, was to feel equal, to feel like they weren't just a pet, but a partner. So how would they feel, if Kirtch ejaculated so deep into their body they were still excreting his cum weeks later?
"I'm going to mark you as mine, (Reader)." It was a lie, his species did no such thing, but the look of unbridled joy on (Reader's) cross eyed face, the loopy smile that twitched as tears poured down to their chest, was a sight that made it worth lying.
"Are you cumming? Are you cumming in me?" (Reader) slurred, barely holding themselves upright in Kirtch's grasp.
"If you promise to be a good little pet." Kirtch could hold out for as long as needed. His species did not have sex for pleasure, so there was no sense of urgency when they needed to release. He could have continued going for hours, if he hadn't overdone it with the collar. (Reader) was on the verge of passing out.
"I promise! I promise to be a good pet! I promise!" (Reader) exclaimed, colliding their lips back onto Kirtch's as a string of hot sperm shot up into (Reader's) body, a fluid so thick it was practically glue, leaving (Reader) feeling physically full. Kirtch couldn't help but push the button again, seeing his pet overflow with adoration for him.
"I love you, (Reader), I really really do."
Kirtch whispered sweet nothing's into his pet's ear as they passed out, then carried them to his bed, tucking in their swollen body, not minding the mess. (Reader) really was the most beautiful and adorable little pet in the entire universe. He doubt that he would ever get another pet after (Reader) was gone. He sat on the floor, rubbing circles into their tear stained cheeks, smiling contently.
Of course, the next day Kirtch would have to use the collar, showing (Reader) how bad they truly felt inside when they refused to get out of bed, and while it was awful making them cry when they tried to refuse to eat, it was for the best. Kirtch knew it wouldn't take long for (Reader) to graduate from needing their collar, and that soon they would always be by his side, begging him to pick them up and play with them. It didn't matter whether (Reader) needed cuddles or needed to be filled with his seed, Kirtch would overuse that remote until they desired his touch all the time.
He didn't mind the glassy, doll like glaze to their eyes, the change in their speech, the way they began crying whenever it looked like Kirtch was unhappy, or how they stopped pushing him away. After months of flushing their system with artificial love, Kirtch knew that his pet was happy with him. And that was all that mattered.
#yandere#yandere alien#yandere alien x reader#pet human#cw dubcon#mind break#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic#cw mind control#part three
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What if Danny went to school with Damian? I’m just imagining them going feral together after a little while, because you know that Danny picks up on Damian’s liminal vibes.
I mostly just want Damien to bring Danny home, and for Bruce to do the headcount thing that Mr. Weasley needed to do in Harry Potter. Just like ‘I could’ve sworn I didn’t have this many this morning’
Damian made a friend.
It shouldn't be as big a deal as his brothers were making it out to be but even he knew that he didn't have the best track record on friendships. It was hard to get along great with the kids in his school.
A lot of them were too carefree, to be unburdened by the things he saw and did on a battlefield and he couldn't stand how loud and messy they all were.
Damian preferred to sit by himself with some headphones in and draw whenever he could get the chance. According to the other children that made him an "emo loser" and a lot of them took great joy in flinging insults and taunts at him.
He never even spoken to them but for some reason, the general populace of Gotham Acadamy deemed him a great target for their scorn. Sometimes Damian wondered if he deserved their taunts, flung paper and spitballs.
If his time in the Leauge of Shadows truly made him broken and wrong as his classmates claimed.
It wasn't like Damian couldn't defend himself. He could have all of them begging for mercy within a minute but to do so would put at risk his Robin identity.
Which then would put his family at risk. Damian would never allow those under his protection to be harmed. So even if it hurt his dignity he allowed some of the more physical bullies to get a few hits in and ducked his head when he walked through the hallways.
His other classmates saw, but no one chose to speak up for Damian Wayne otherwise known as Bruce Wayne's accident on travel and dirty secret. He was the freak. The weirdo. They knew that if they got involved, even if they didn't agree with it, then they would be targeted.
He never expected anyone to step in whenever his bullies found him.
But then again, he came to learn that Daniel Fenton wasn't just anyone. His friend had a heart of gold with a righteous rage that was hardly contained in his smaller body.
It had been three days since Daniel had been transferred to Gotham Acadamy, during their free period. The youngest Wayne had been minding his own business, eating the vegetarian meal prepared by Alfred and drawing a little in his sketchbook when he was surrounded.
Damian had been pushed up against a wall by the meaty hands of the snickering soccer team. They were gripping his shirt collar and Damian had been preparing for a punch in the face when Daniel had appeared out of nowhere.
"Hands!" Danny had shouted pointing at Derek, the captain of the team with a scowl. He was the one who was going to beat Damian up while his friends held Wayne in place. "That's a penalty kick buddy!"
And then Danny kicked Eric- a teenager who was at least a head taller than him- right between the legs. Danny threw his whole body weight into that kick and the captain proved it by choking out a wheeze and falling to the ground.
Before his friends could react, Danny was upon them swinging his lunch tray like a battering ram.
Needless to say, the rest of the soccer team was not impressed, especially the goalie. They abandoned Damian to fight against Danny, who well seemed like he knew his way in a fight, was nowhere near Damian's level of training.
Good instincts but he lacked a solid foundation.
Danny was able to fight off the seven members of the soccer team (the rest didn't really hang out with them during breaks) but he had a lot of wounds as a result.
"Run dude!" Danny had shouted at him, putting himself between the team and Damian. His lip had been busted, he had a black eye and a nosebleed but Danny didn't seem to care. "I'll hold them off!"
Damian was ashamed to admit that he just stood there in shock at the new transfer's behavior. Daniel....was attempting to rescue him. Why?
He hadn't even known Daniel at the time.
The teachers arrived then, dragging everyone to the principal office where Damian was accused of starting the fight and Danny was threatened with being expelled only three days into his move. The soccer team had been smug, while the principal who Damian believed disliked him for his Middle Eastern Blood, seemed to jump at the fact he could smear Damian's name.
Daniel was on scholarship which did not help his chances at all in a school that had legacies.
His father had been away on a mission, so the school had been forced to phone Richard instead. When his brother arrived the soccer team's parents had been throwing a fit about all the hits Daniel had gotten in.
"Mr. Wayne shouldn't have agitated them and Mr. Fenton jumped in unprovoked. ," The Principal said staring Richard down when his brother had loudly demanded to know what happened.
"But he didn't" Daniel cut in. His guardians hadn't arrived yet and had remained mostly silent by the way. The group of parents and teenagers turn to him. "They were the ones to attack Wayne. I hit them unprovoked though. That part is true. They didn't do anything to me, but I can't stand cowards that attack in groups."
"I guess you have proof of this?" Mrs. Skeel sneered. She was Eric's mother and often brides her son out of problems.
"I have a body cam," Daniel reveals pulling out a miniature camera from his tie. He smiles at the dumbfounded stares his actions cause."Recorded the whole thing."
"Can I see the footage?" Richard requested, which Daniel easily handed over. They played it on the Principal's computer and there the camera shows Daniel sitting in the tree that Damian had chosen to sit under. The video captures Daniel watching him up until the soccer team arrives, and their innocence is proven.
Daniel didn't seem to care that he made enemies with almost everyone in that room as Richard quickly took control of the meeting with the evidence. Damian thinks he may not have to worry too much now that the staff were aware that Waynes would and could cut their funding.
Not only that, but the parents were also weary of angering Father. None of this meant that Daniel was safe so Damian took it upon himself to never let the new student be alone for too long.
As a means to protect him.
It wasn't until he realized two months later that school had gone for a dull meaningless pass time to laughter and enjoyment because of Daniel. They walked to class, they shared notes, they passed notes, they watched videos, Daniel chattered about everything and anything and they sent each other funny memes.
Daniel was vastly different from Damian but it didn't seem to bother him. If anything their differences were what made them so close. Daniel claimed that his two best friends back in his old school were vastly different in interest and personalities too.
He had made a friend.
Daniel was his friend.
A friend who didn't seem to mind when he would go quiet to draw or medicate. A friend who didn't need an explanation or justification for his eating habits. A friend he was able to vent about his troubles to and lend an ear to when Daniel faced his own woes.
A person who laughed at all his dark jokes, regardless of how much death was in them. Someone who seemed almost as... what did Todd call him? Feral? as Damian was.
Damian had chosen to invite Daniel to a sleepover. His very first ever sleepover with people from school- Jon held the crown for being the first friend to have a sleepover with him- and he has been ever so excited.
It's childish for someone of his age to show such anticipation for something so small but he couldn't help himself. Something about Daniel was captivating. Almost otherworldly so.
There was something about him that made all of Damian sense buzz but not in a bad way. He isn't sure what it is, but he is getting tired of Drake's and Richard's knowing smirks.
He detested being left out of the loop.
The doorbell rings. Todd makes the motion to stand up, which would be a disaster. He does not want Daniel- a person who swears in old classic book titles to meet his one brother who adores said books and reads them for fun.
Damian flings himself over the couch, using Todd as board. He ignores the shout of rage that his action causes and the hollaring laughter of the rest of Father's brood.
He clears the door before any of the other Wayne members and breaks out into a run. Just in case any of them got the idea of trying to meet Daniel before Damian can control the situation in which it happenes.
Also, he wanted to see Daniel. Spring break felt like an eternity now that he couldn't see his friend every day. He would like to have met up with him since the break started but Daniel's guardian had planned a trip and they only just returned.
He had yet to meet Daniel's uncle but heard a lot of Mr.Clockwork from the teenager. Damian was still unsure if he liked the man. He seemed far too aloof when it came to Daniel.
"Geez Dami, relax! Your boy toy isn't going anywhere!" Brown cackles
"Give him a big smooch!" Drake adds, his laughter echoing Brown's
I will deal with them later. Damian swears, fixing his hair from where it had fallen out during his run. He checks his reflection in the mirror by the doorway. He wants to look good for his first ever school friend's sleepover.
Damian had picked his best outfit, wearing his favorite jeans and black button-down. He accessorized with silver rings and chains, grateful Jon had been willing to facetime to give him the modern teenager stamp approval.
Once he is satisfied that his appearance is at its utmost best, he opens the door.
"Hi, Dami!" Daniel chirps. He is wearing a faded pair of jeans and a white shirt with a red dot in the middle. It's nowhere near Damian's stylish and well-put-together often, and yet he looks as beautiful as a grace nymph outside the school uniform.
Damian mind goes blank for only a second before he nods. "Daniel.Welcome. This is Wayne Manor. I live here for I am a Wayne."
For I am a Wayne!? Damian thinks to himself in horror unsure why those words hand tumbled out of his mouth. A wave of shame washes over him as Daniel curiously looks around with that pleased little half smile on his lips.
Daniel is always half smiling as if he heard a joke only he was privy to.
"This place is cool!" Daniels says spinning around to face him and missing Father stumbling out of the living room. Damian is unsure why the man had return so soon, as he thought Batman would be off-world for another week at the least with Flash.
His father looked dead on his feet, eyes half open as he walked up to Daniel and yanked him into a hug!?
"Oh," Daniel says pressed up to Father's chest. "Hello?"
"Hi, son." Father mutters. He squints down at his friend with bloodshot eyes. " Did you get smaller Timmy?"
"Father!" Damian shouts outraged while the rest of his so-called siblings come spilling out of the other sitting room.
"Bruce!" Drake shouts a wide grin on his face. "I'm over here."
"Wha-? Then who is this?" Father blinks slowly, one eye closing before the other, as he tilts his head. He has yet to realese Daniel, though his part his friend seems content with the embrace seeing as he had returned the gesture. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.....ten? Do I have ten children?"
"You only have nine" Thomas calls out helpfully. Father nods, then counts again, pointing one finger at the people in the room
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine" He looks down pointing at Daniel. "Ten. Why are there ten of you?"
"That's a son-in-law, old man"
"No. I could have sworn none of my children are married......Dick you're not married are you?"
"Not yet B."
"Jason?"
"Trying to find a finger to put a ring on it Old man."
"Cassandra?"
"No thank you."
"Tim?"
"Ew."
Daniel giggled at Drake's response and Damian felt the sudden urge to bury a knife in Drake's side.
"Steph?"
"Nah."
"Duke?"
"I'm too young B."
"Cullen?"
"I can't even get a date, Bruce"
"Harper?"
"Inability to get dates run in the Row family tree."
Father nodded then. "Good none of my children-"
"What about Dami?" Daniel asks with a wide grin. Both his friend and Father turn to stare at him. Damian suddenly feels himself sweating through his shirt.
"Damian? You aren't married?
"Of course not!" He denies it loudly and faces an unconformable red. Daniel cackles like the devil he is.
Father meanwhile continues to hug Daniel while muttering. "Then where did ten come from? Alfred? Why are there ten children in my house?"
"Master Bruce if you do not let that young man go and go see Dr.Thompkins for that concussion I swear, heads will roll!"
Damian is grateful that once again Alfred seems to be the only one with a brain in this manner.
"I like it here," Daniel proclaims watching the butler drag away his confused father. Damian is utterly unprepared for the look that his friend shoots him from under his eyelashes, and he almost trips over his own two feet as he says. "Show me to your room?"
"I...of course! This way! I live here!" Curses his voice cracked. It ended in a squeak! He, Damian Wayne son of the Bat and Demon, made a fool of himself by squeaking!
"This is better than a daytime tv sitcom." Row- the male one- snickers from the stairway and Damian flips him off as he passes by with Daniel.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#dead serious#Why Ten? au#Bruce was so confused by the tenth person#Danny made a friend#and Damian is experiencing his first-ever crush#The Waynes are watching Damian stumble like they watching a wild animal documentation
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