#I apologize for any insult in my first answer

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It��s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[4ever-me]

Have you changed your mind? - Park Humin (Baku)

Synopsis: At your new school you meet a boy who is your complete opposite, but opposites attract.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, Dom!Humin, squirting, oral (fem!receiving), bulge kink, big dick!Humin, fingering, size kink (light), overstimulation, violence(Reader gets punched), blood, harassment (not described in detail), Reader attacks some guys with a pen, Reader is a female version of Sieun, In this story there are girls in Eunjang, Grumpy X Sunshine, Reader is sensitive to loud noises (this was a little bit based on me).

does not follow the drama's storyline, so all the characters are of legal age. Minors DNI

Word Count: 3.4k (Sorry)

A/N: It was the first Weak Hero story I made, but it took me longer to post. I hope you like it ♡. English isn't my first language

Part 02: here

You were still in your first week of classes at your new school: Eunjang High School. It didn't take you long to figure out the roles of each one, but you didn't fit into any of them. You weren't athletic, you didn't play any sports, you didn't fight, you weren't the most popular or the smartest.

You didn't usually start conversations, but if someone approached you and started talking, you would do it without any problem. However, no one had approached you yet, and maybe it was because of your somewhat grumpy appearance and not very friendly expression. But you were cool; still, you didn't have any friends or roles or positions in the school.

You enter the school and walk down the hallway with headphones on, without listening to any music. You walk slowly, starting to hear a commotion approaching. You don't care until you hear loud laughter and some people laughing a little more quietly. You get scared and lean against the wall, seeing a tall guy laughing and greeting people, followed by several others. Park Hu Min, or Baku, as everyone knew him, was the "leader" of the school. He had beaten up some guys from a gang that was chasing Eunjang. You didn't understand much about these things, so you didn't think much about it. But you knew one thing: Hu Min was loud, very loud.

He walks past you and your eyes meet. He winks in your direction and, when he's no longer looking, you grimace, frowning and finding what he did strange. After the crowd leaves, you go into your classroom and wait for class to start.

It’s lunchtime and you’re in the stands, watching a group of boys play basketball on the court. You eat a snack and drink some strawberry milk that a boy with glasses gave you as an apology after he bumped into you while running through the hallways. You watch Hu Min dribble the ball quickly and make a basket, yelling and hugging his best friend. You startle when he yells, even though he’s wearing headphones. The main reason you wear headphones all the time is to drown out loud noises, since you’re extremely sensitive to sounds.

You go back to eating, distracting yourself with the boys playing, and it doesn’t take long for you to get startled again by a boy sitting next to you. Park Hu Min. You look at him with raised eyebrows and a full mouth, staring at him like he’s the strangest being you’ve ever seen.

– Hello, pretty girl, – He smiles, leaning on his hands as he spreads his legs a little, looking a little sloppy.

– Hi – You say with your mouth full, trying to swallow the food.

– What is such a beautiful princess doing here alone?

– Eating – You answer dryly, wanting him to speak a little more quietly.

– You know what? – He points at you – I don’t think you’re a princess; you’re a thief, because you stole my heart. – He winks at you.

– What? – You didn’t understand if that was a compliment or an insult.

– What’s your name, cutie? – He approaches. But, thank heavens, before you can answer, a boy in blue shouts calling him; when Hu Min looks at the boy, you quickly leave in silence. And when you’re already far away, you hear him calling you, but you don’t look back and go straight to your class again.

It's been a few days since Humin last spoke to you, and you had avoided him like the plague during those days. If you saw or heard him in the hallways, you hid; you didn't go to the court anymore, because you knew he would be there with his friends. One day, you were in your class and saw him appearing at the door. You quickly crouched down, intending to hide. He shouts your name and you wonder how he found out your name and your class. No one answers, because probably no one remembered your name. When he leaves, you look up, seeing a boy looking at you with a bored face: Yeon Sieun. You realize that you used the table and his body to hide; embarrassed, you get up and go to your table. But, one day, Humin unfortunately found you. You were in the cafeteria, with headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. You are startled again by someone sitting next to you quickly, making you choke on your food and start coughing;  Someone pats your back as you grab your juice to drink. Stopping coughing, you see Humin next to you.

– Are you trying to kill me? – You ask loudly, still out of breath.

– Me? Kill you? No, no, no… – He moves his hands quickly as he explains to you – I would never want to kill the love of my life.

You just look at him in disbelief, picking up your tray as you leave and muttering “weird” to yourself.

It had been a few days, and you kept avoiding him. In the last few days, you had noticed the boy, seeing that he and his friend Gotak had been getting closer to Sieun and Juntae. They were a bit of a strange foursome, and it was funny to see the four of them together.

You walked home; this time, you decided to take a different route, one that wasn't full of people. You put your hands in your sweatshirt pockets, feeling a folded piece of paper, and smiled thinking about what it was: a little letter you found under your desk, signed with the name "Baku". It was a romantic letter, written in a not-so-pretty but legible handwriting. You couldn't help but laugh when you finished reading it, after lunch; you put it in your sweatshirt pocket as soon as class started. You thought it was cute, since you always wanted to get a love letter, but you never imagined it would be from him.

You walk down an alley, seeing a message on the wall that says "No Fighting, Eunjang High School", signed with the boy's name, exactly like in your letter. You keep walking until you see three boys entering the alley. You continue, attentive and cautious, holding the pen tightly in your other pocket. You used to carry a pen in your pocket, since you never knew when you would need one.

They were from another school and, when they see your uniform, they start talking to you. But you ignore them; they step in front of you, blocking your way.

– Hey, kitty, where are you going? – Asks the middle boy, with his hands in his pants pockets.

– She's from Eunjang! – He states the obvious, giving you a mischievous look while his hands shake.

– Move out of the way. – You say in the strongest voice you can. They stop laughing and look at you.

– What did you say? – Asks one of them, angrily.

– Get out of my way, idiots! – You says more firmly.

The boy in the middle advances towards you and you quickly pull the pen out, stabbing him in the shoulder. He yells some curse and you pull the pen back, making him fall to the floor near the wall. The other two boys come towards you and you even manage to cut one of their arms; but the other holds you back and makes you drop the pen.

– You cut me, you crazy bitch!! – He yells in your face and you struggle trying to get out of his grip. But the boy who yelled at you punches you hard in the face and you fall dizzy when he lets go of you. It's the first time you've been punched and it hurts more than you imagined. You put your hand on your nose and feel something wet; when you put your hand in front of your eyes, everything is still blurry, but you can make out the red color of your blood.

You hear a commotion as if it were a fight, but you don't try to see what it is.  When the noises stop and your vision starts to return, you see Humin approaching and crouching next to you.

– Are you okay?! – He asks worriedly, touching your face with both hands.

– They broke my nose… – You whimper.

– Let me see… – He lifts your face, analyzing it. – It’s not broken – He reassures.

– Come on, let’s go to my house to clean up this blood, – He carries you on his back.

– No… My house is close by – He agrees and guides you to his house.

You arrive at your house and go inside, heading towards your room. Humin leaves you on the bed and goes to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit. It's a good thing your parents weren't home; they would freak out if they saw you with a bloody nose. He sits down next to you and starts cleaning the blood.

– How do you know how to take care of wounds so well? – You ask curiously, since he seemed like a professional doing it.

– I get hurt a lot, you know? I play basketball and I also get into a lot of fights. – He explains. – Aren't your parents home?

– No, they went on a trip… – You say. – Will I get a bruise? – Your parents couldn't even dream of what happened.

– Probably not, but if I do, it won't be very obvious. – He sets the cotton aside. – There you go!– He puts the materials he used away and throws them in the trash. He comes back and sits down next to you.

– You look like a friend of mine;  He loves to poke people with pens. – He says.

You laugh and look at him. – Yeon Sieun. – You already knew the story that was circulating at school about the boy. Humin mumbles an "exactly".

– Did you see my letter? – He comes closer with a smile on his face.

You mumble in agreement – ​​I threw it away. – You lie in a simple tone, but try not to laugh when you see the boy's incredulous face. You pull the letter out of your coat pocket and throw it near him. He opens a smile from ear to ear.

– I knew you loved me too! – He claps his hands happily.

– Calm down, it's not like that! – You don't love him, but he's cute and funny too, and the letter made you look at him differently.

– I have time to change your mind. – He looks at you so intensely that you feel embarrassed. The atmosphere in the room gets more tense, but not in a bad way.  He still analyzes you and looks deep into your eyes.

– Come here... – His tone of voice changes, becoming more serious as he calls you with his hand. You get up and sit next to him. But he rolls his eyes and spreads his legs wider as he places you on his lap.

– What are you doing? – You ask with wide eyes.

– Making you change your mind. – He places his hand on the back of your neck. – Do you want it?

You don't think twice before nodding and saying "Yes, I want it" in a whisper. He also doesn't think twice before closing the space between your lips.

The kiss is easy at first. You notice him testing the limits, moving his hand from the back of your neck to your waist and asking for his tongue to enter your mouth, which you immediately grant, feeling the muscle invade your mouth, making the kiss more intense. You don't even notice when his hands are on your ass, helping you to grind on his lap, and you also didn't notice when he yanked open your school shirt, making the buttons fly across the room, exposing your bra.

He lifts you off his lap, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed. You don't understand what he's going to do until he spreads your legs and kneels between them. The boy smiles and kisses your thighs, and you shiver. He brings his hands to your shirt and pulls the fabric from your shoulders, pulling your bra down, freeing your breasts. He looks at them and comes closer, kissing your collarbone, before lightly kissing each of your nipples and you arch towards him.

The boy returns to between your legs, calmly taking off your panties and hiding his head under the fabric of your skirt. You feel his hot breath against your wet intimacy, and without warning he separates the lips of your pussy and gives a big lick, making you let out a loud moan and close your eyes tightly and do the same with your legs, he spreads your legs with his big hands, pulling your thighs to his shoulders. Humin begins to suck your clitoris and lick it like a hungry man, you lean on the bed with your hands and moan loudly, the boy runs his tongue from your entrance to your clitoris, sucking hard, making you scream and arch. You feel the tears blurring your vision and bring your fist to your mouth, biting down to muffle your moans. He sticks his tongue in your entrance and you shudder, he does the same movement a few times before pulling away and sticking a finger in your pussy, moving right after, you cry and grip the hem of your skirt.  He puts another finger in and you feel full, your pussy burns with the lack of habit. Seeing how much you are squeezing his fingers, Humin goes back to sucking your clit, making you relax your grip on his fingers, allowing him to move them. He starts slowly, still sucking you, speeding up each time you moan louder and soon he is already thrusting with his fingers quickly while sucking you and you can hear how wet you are, you feel hot and tight, already seeing stars. Your hands go to his hair when you start to feel something approaching, you scream and your arms almost give out when the knot in your stomach breaks, you feel a wave of pleasure, you shudder and writhe, but Humin doesn't stop, leaving you whimpering and crying with the sensitivity, and consequently he stops after a while, the boy looks at you and gives you a kiss on the lips. 

Humin lays you down as he climbs on top of you, he kisses your cheek and forehead, you hug his shoulders and pull him into a slow kiss, you wrap your legs around his hips, he looks into your eyes.

– Are you sure about that? – He asks quietly.

– Yes, I am – When you say it, he goes straight to your breasts, taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking it, he caresses your thighs, lifting your skirt, leaving it on your hips, his mouth releases your nipples and he looks at your pussy.

– You are so beautiful...– He is already putting his hand on his belt, taking it off and pulling his pants and underwear together.

You widen your eyes when you look at his pelvis. He is big, very big. You get nervous, maybe he won't fit you.

He laughs at your reaction – Touch it. – He asks, but when he sees that you don't, he takes your hand and puts it around his shaft.

It is soft and you almost don't wrap the whole shaft with your hand. You start stroking, seeing a drop of pre-cum fall on your belly, he continues with a small smile looking at you.  He takes your hand away and fits it between your legs, passing the tip through your pussy, he fits it at your entrance and starts to push slowly, but when he puts the whole tip in, you feel yourself being torn, you complain "stop, stop". He does, rubbing your clit very lightly and leans in to kiss you, but when he gets closer, his cock slides deeper into you, making you whimper.

It takes a while until he's completely inside you, but when his hips are pressed against yours, you feel full, about to cum, your eyes are wet and you're shaking, and Humin still plays with your breasts. He starts to thrust slowly, and you feel that familiar wave of pleasure returning.

– S-Stop! – You stutter – I'm going to cum! – He laughs mockingly, grabbing your legs and pressing them to you chest, giving a deeper angle to his cock. He pulls out of you and comes back in hard, you scream and he keeps doing it.  With just five thrusts you cum on his cock, he continues, despite your sensitivity.

You hear Humin's deep moans increase in volume, he's almost screaming, and what you expected would bother you turns you on even more.

– You're so tight! – He moans, pressing his weight into your legs, speeding up the pace even more.

You feel small beneath him and this makes you extremely sensitive, with these thoughts you feel your climax approaching and you don't know if you can handle a third orgasm, but at this moment it's the only thing you want.

He pulls away abruptly before you can cum and he lies down on the bed pulling you onto his lap, he grabs your hips, placing you on top of his cock and slamming you hard into his pelvis, you open your mouth in a silent scream at the sudden invasion and more tears fall from your eyes, he leaves his hands on you as support. You lean on his strong chest and start moving up and down on his cock with his help. You lower your gaze, directing it to where you are connected, and on your belly, you see a bulge that appears and disappears as Humin's cock enters and leaves your pussy, you moan broken and low seeing this, Humin follows your gaze and realizes what you saw and smiles satisfied seeing his cock marking your belly.

– Look, do you see how deep I'm in you? – He takes your hand and places it on your belly, and you feel the volume. He puts pressure on your hand making your hand squeeze your belly making the angle change and you feel fuller.

– Do you like this?�� – He moans loudly and you head shakes in agreement desperately.

He holds you still on his lap and begins to lift his pelvis towards you violently, he leaves one hand still holding yours against the bulge in your belly and with the other he grabs your hips moving you according to his movements.

You are exhausted, with your eyes rolled back and moaning without caring who can hear as he destroys your pussy with desire. The climax approaches again, but this time much stronger, much more intense, much faster, and you scream along with him and with the euphoria of the orgasm, you don't even feel that you have wet the boy's entire abdomen and the bed with your squirt, you fall on his chest weak and with your vision darkened, still feeling the violent thrusts pressing on your cervix and the jets of sperm inside your pussy.

You take a while to recover, and when your consciousness returns completely, you feel the boy's hands caressing your hair, and a few light kisses on your forehead.   You snuggle closer to his chest, wiping your tears with your hand, feeling a slight pain in your nose.

You lift your head, seeing the boy's gaze on you and that characteristic smile. You approach and give the boy a long kiss on the lips. He smiles between the kiss and when you pull away, he asks:

– Did I make you change your mind?

[angels-hideaway]

𝔇𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

summary: a collection of short stories between Knight! Caitlyn Kiramman x fem!princess! Reader for HCW!💙

warnings: smut in the middle of the story. I’ll tell you when it’s coming.

songs: Ethereal by Txmy, Golden Brown by The Straglers, Carnival of the Animals: The Swan

“I swear”

“I swear”

“To protect”

“To protect” 

“And to give my life”

“And to give my life”

“For her highness”

“For her highness.”

“Under any circumstance.”

“Under any circumstance.” 

“With god as my witness.”

“With god as my witness.”

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

The knight was in full armor, pledging their loyalty and life to you. As princess, you knew you’d receive your own Kiramman night one day. They’ve been protecting your family for generations with skill and dignity. This one; however, she’s different. Starting with the fact it’s a she. The female voice surprised you. A lady knight? Almost unheard of. 

You’d see her sometimes, training in the vast field outside your bedroom window, but from such a distance, you never caught this mysterious woman’s face. You’re brought back from your thoughts by the man beckoning you to stand. Like you rehearsed, you stand, receive the sword, and knight her. The crowd erupts in applause, and the knight finally stands. 

She’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice about her. You give her the sword, which she receives with two hands and a bow. 

After the commotion of the ceremony, you’re escorted back to your bedroom by ladies in waiting to get out of your special gown. “Did you know her highness’s knight is a woman?” One whispers to the other. “I did! I heard it was because the Kiramman’s were unable to produce a son.” So that was it. There was no Kiramman son to protect you, so their daughter would. 

You saw no issue with it. Even if she’s half as skilled as her predecessors, you’d be in good hands. Taking the time to rest in your simple silk dress, you pluck a book from your shelves and settle down to read. 

Knock knock knock

The wrapping at your door comes around half an hour later when you answer, it’s your new knight. She’s not fully armed anymore, but her helmet is still on. “Good afternoon, your highness.” She bows. “Good afternoon…” you’re so curious about this woman, and why she won’t remove her helmet. “As your personal guard, I’ve come to start my duties today. May I come inside?” You open the door wider and allow her to come inside.

“You’re a woman?” The question slips from your lips before you could think about asking. The knight turns quickly as if it was an insult. “Well- yes, your highness, but I assure you I can protect you as well as any man.” She sounds bitter.

“That’s not what I meant! I just found it to be peculiar.” 

“My apologies. I am an only child. There is no son to take on the family name, so I was to instead.” She’s got a pretty voice. 

“I have no doubts you’ll make a fine knight. Sometimes, I’d see you training out there.” You motion to your window. 

“Really? Yes, I practice out there a lot.” She adjusts her helmet. 

“Would you maybe…uhm, remove your helmet? I’d like to see your face.” You can hear her armor shift when she does. You’ve caught her off guard. “My face? I’m not sure, your highness… it’d be unchivalrous.” 

“Would it? As your princess I command you.” You weren’t going to let chivalry stop you from finally seeing this woman up close. She sighs, but removes her helmet. Her striking blue eyes avoid your curious ones, and her lips tighten. She’s beautiful. Her dark blue hair is tied into a bun, and her face is perfectly sculpted. 

When she notices you staring, her cheeks turn a soft pink. “Is that to your liking, your highness?” 

“Uhm…yes. There’s no need to wear your helmet all the time.” You try and brush off the feeling in your chest, and the heat in your own cheeks. “What’s your name?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from your new, beautiful personal guard. “Caitlyn Kiramman.” Caitlyn. It suits her perfectly. 

“Can I call you Caitlyn?” 

“Of course, your highness.” She finally looks at you. It’s silent. “You’re beautiful.” Caitlyn looks surprised, but catches herself and puts on a stoic poker face to hide it. “Thank you, your highness.” She looks around your room before her eyes settle back on you. You break the silence.“I’ve been looking forward to my personal Kiramman knight.” You giggled. Caitlyn smiles “Were you? I can only hope I won’t disappoint you, your highness. As a Kiramman, and your knight, it is my honor to serve you.” She bows. Maybe you don’t mind the chivalry so much after all.

“My lady!” One of your maids calls. “Tea is ready in the garden for you.” 

“Shall we go?” You say to Caitlyn. “Of course, your highness.”

Laughter and music filled the ballroom, as lords and ladies waltzed and drank. You were standing in the corner, sipping idly on a drink, denying suitor after suitor a dance with you. Everyone wanted to dance with the princess. After all, the one who conquered your heart would gain the throne. 

That’s what they all thought, but your heart had already been conquered. Conquered by your lady-knight who guarded you fiercely. Her dedication made you swoon. The small gap between her two front teeth made your heart flutter. Her watchful eyes monitoring your every move made you weak in the knees. You were so caught up in your fantasy, you didn’t realize that she was making her way over to you.

“Your highness.” Caitlyn bows politely. “Caitlyn! You startled me.” You dismiss the thoughts of the woman standing right in front of you. She gently takes your hand and kisses it, keeping eye contact the whole time. Her lips are soft. “You look lovely tonight. No wonder all eyes are on you.” Her eyes carry a certain fondness in them. No one’s ever looked at you like that. No one except for her. 

“Thank you.” You reply. She stands up straight. “Dance with any handsome suitors this evening?” Her voice sounds a little teasing. “No.” You admit.

“Why’s that, your highness? No one to your liking?” 

“Something like that.”

Before you can continue your conversation, a noble from another region comes over to you. “Your highness, may I have this dance?” Feeling bored and unamused, you accept. “Yes. That sounds lovely.” Your voice is devoid of any actual emotion. He leads you to the ballroom floor and you dance. You feel nothing. You had to dance with some men though. You didn’t want to seem impolite.

While you’re lost in your own world as this man whirls you around, you get a glimpse of Caitlyn. She’s staring daggers at the noble you’re dancing with. She looks…

 jealous. 

You’ve never seen your stoic knight scowl like that. When the dance comes to an end, she doesn’t clap.

When you return to stand by her, she clears her throat and goes back to her poker face. “Caitlyn, are you alright?” 

“Quite alright, your highness.” Her voice is sharp. She’s upset. “Did you want to dance?” She looks flustered. “No, princess. Even if I wanted to, this ball is not for me.” 

She didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night.

For months now, you have begged Caitlyn to take you on her horse. In truth, you know how to ride a horse, but that’s not what you wanted. You wanted an excuse  to wrap your arms around your knight and hold her close. “Please Caitlyn? I promise you won’t be endangering me!” You begged for what felt like the hundredth time. “Well…fine. If you really want to this much.” 

You could almost jump for joy. Caitlyn sees how ecstatic you are, and a giggle slips from her usually stoic face. “You’re lucky you’re my princess.” She comments before leading you outside.

“Careful.” Caitlyn warns once she gets you mounted on her horse. “Now, wrap your arms around me. Just so you can hold on..” she’s oddly quiet. Like saying that embarrassed her. You oblige, and even go as far as to lean your head on her shoulder. She stiffens, but relaxes and clears her throat. “Ready?” She slowly urges her horse into a steady canter. 

“You can go faster than that.” You say into her ear. “Are you sure, your highness?” She looks over her shoulder at you. “Please?” She sighs, but smiles softly. “I can’t say no to you. Come on, boy” she talks to her horse. Now, she’s going fast. She seems very comfortable on horseback. You’re clinging to her. Not just because of your ulterior motives, but because you feel like if you let go, you’ll fall off. 

“Is this fast enough for you, your highness!?” She yells over the horse’s hooves and the wind in your ears. Caitlyn’s ponytail falls out, and her navy hair blows in your face. She’s laughing like she’s having fun. You’ve never seen her act such a way. She’s always so sure to act in accordance to her chivalry. You laugh with her. Caitlyn’s horse neighs, driving her attention to the oncoming thicket. She stops the horse abruptly, making you lurch into her. Loosing her balance, Caitlyn falls, and you follow.

You laugh with her for what feels like hours on the ground. When you’re both done, Caitlyn stands up and offers you her hand to help you up. You take it, and she pulls you up. “Was that enough for you?” She asks playfully. “I can’t believe I almost got you killed.” She runs her hand through her disheveled hair. “Well, let’s head back. Your father will have my head if we don’t get back soon.” 

“You can take a break for just a few minutes.” Your arms where around Caitlyn’s neck and she had one gloved hand on your hip. Quite an intimate position for anybody, but one especially unacceptable for a princess. “Princess, your safety comes first every time. I don’t need breaks.” You pouted at her. “Nonsense. It doesn’t have to be a long break.” Caitlyn gently pries you off of her. “I’m sorry, your highness. I’ll have to refuse.” Sitting back on your bed, you ask. “Why do you always work so hard? You almost never take any breaks.” 

You see Caitlyn shift around in discomfort. “I have a lot to manage. One princess along with my entire family’s honor. No one expected much of me.” You decide to be quiet. This is clearly her trying to be vulnerable. “Because there was no male heir to the Kiramman name, it was up to me. A girl. I’ve always had to work twice as hard, be twice as strong, fast, smart, just for anyone to take me seriously. Even now.” Caitlyn looks exhausted. 

“I…I didn’t consider that. I’m sorry, Caitlyn.” Now, you feel a little selfish for messing with her. Caitlyn looks remorseful. “No, don’t be sorry. I did everything I did to get here. Guarding royalty has always been the pride of the Kiramman family. Being here with you now means everything I’ve worked for was worth it.” She comes close enough to loom over you, and bends to meet your face. “But maybe I could use a break. Having a princess like you to remind me to relax is a blessing in itself.”

She looks beautiful up close like this. You can’t look away. Caitlyn’s eyes soften, and she cups your cheek with one gloved hand. “I’ll forever be loyal to you. Not a single soul can touch you as long as I’m alive.” The intimate moment lasts a little longer before Caitlyn clears her throat and stands up. “Excuse me, your highness. I’ll go take my post now.”

You were sitting outside with your entourage of maids and ladies in waiting, who were all swooning watching the knights spar. You were too, but the only one staring at the lady-knight was you. You’ve never seen her spar, but she’s good at it. After quickly ending a match, Caitlyn notices you. She approaches and removes her helmet. She’s covered in the slightest sheen of sweat. “Your highness,” she keels and kisses your hand. “Caitlyn! I came to watch you you spar.” She looks surprised. “Did you? Well, thank you. I hope I’ve impressed you?”

“Very much so.” Caitlyn giggles.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay and talk very long. After all, everyone’s waiting to joust with the current champion.” She smiles curtly before putting her helmet back on and leaving. Watching her maneuver with such ease and expertise only encouraged your forbidden fantasies. Every so often, you’ll even catch Caitlyn turning in your direction after a match. Almost like she wants to see what you thought of it.

Of course, you clap, smile as you’ve been trained to, and continue to admire her skill. You’d expect nothing less from a Kiramman night, man or woman. What drew you to her even more was the fact that she worked harder than any other knight in the palace grounds. All to finally get the opportunity to stand by you.

The idea was very romantic, but even more so because it was true. You weren’t stupid though, and doubt that Caitlyn feels the same. After all, from what you’ve learned of her, she sticks to the classic rules of chivalry. Opting to ignore the harsh reality, you brushed those thoughts away and returned to observing her.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Caitlyn whispered to you again. “It’s fine. You’re with me so I’ll be alright.” You whisper-shouted back. Being that she can’t refuse you, she continues walking alongside you. The cloak you were wearing to sneak into town effectively hid your face, and more expensive clothes. Caitlyn was free to have her face exposed. As long as she wasn’t wearing armor, you looked like a pair of peasant women; normal. Caitlyn of course insisted that she bring her sword. When you refused, she settled for a dagger.

“Let’s go over here!” You grab her hand and drag Caitlyn to a stall selling some strange dessert. “Princess! I can’t let you eat that.” Caitlyn stares at the street food in disgust. “Don’t call me that!” You shush her and buy the thing anyways.“It looks like rubbish.” Caitlyn says. “It tastes good.” You defend the humble treat. “Would you like a taste?” You offer her the side where you’ve been eating from. “Uhm…” She hesitantly takes a bite. Her cheeks are pink again. “It’s fine…” Caitlyn seems a little flustered. 

When you finally return, Caitlyn sneaks you back inside without anyone noticing. She helps you climb through the window in your bedroom, and takes the peasants cloak. “There. I really shouldn’t have allowed this. Unfortunately I can never say no to you, my lady.” She smiles at you fondly. “I know.” You reply mischievously. Caitlyn gets close. Her eyes are looking all around. Sometimes away from you. “…Your highness, may I?” Her hand gently grabs your chin, and her thumb is on your bottom lip. If you didn’t feel the same desire for her, she would get in trouble for touching you like this. You nod meekly. 

She wraps her arm around you and pulls you closer. “Excuse me.” And then, her lips are on yours. She kisses you slowly, softly, and with passion. She slowly gets your back against the wall, and prods your lips with her tongue. Understanding what she wants, you let her in. The kiss lasts for what feels like forever. The room is completely silent save for the soft, quiet moans coming from you and Caitlyn.

When she finally pulls away, she hugs you tight. “My lady…” She says into your ear. “I love you, princess. I swear it.” She caresses the back of your head softly, and sighs. “They’d have my head for this.”

WARNING!!! Smut ahead. Continue at your own risk. There is more fluff/ story afterwards so skip if you want to!

You’re riding in a carriage through town, and Caitlyn is on horseback riding next to you. It’s the night of your birthday ball. Despite the excitement, you weren’t too keen on going. The day had been long, filled with afternoon tea with dignitaries, visits from neighboring kingdoms, and suitors galore. This ball would be the same way. 

Once you arrived, Caitlyn dismounts her horse to help you out of the carriage. You take her hand, and step out. She immediately notices your frown. “Is everything alright, your highness? I hate to see you so upset on your birthday” 

“It’s nothing.” You insisted, before making your way inside. You can see she doesn’t quite believe you, but escorts you inside anyways.

Caitlyn’s face falls when she sees him, and when his title is announced. Your betrothed. She looks to you as if to ask for an explanation, but you can only look away. She returns to her poker face, and continues to escort you through the ball.

“Let’s dance again? Maybe this next song?” Your future husband asked, as you pulled away after a dance. “Uhm- yes, I just need some fresh air. I’ll come back.” You rush to the balcony to get away from him. Leaning on the railing, you feel yourself getting ready to cry. This is not what you wanted at all. Before you can, you hear the clink of metal, and turn to see Caitlyn has followed you outside. 

“Are you alright?” When you just look at her pathetically, she comes and wraps her arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Is it about your betrothed? He seems like a good man. Maybe even fit to be king.” 

“Yes, it’s about him!” You whine. “I don’t- I don’t want to marry for convenience. I wanted to marry for love.” Caitlyn pauses, before responding.

“Is there someone you love right now?” Her voice is quiet, and almost a little hopeful. “Yes.” You whisper. You don’t even have to say anything more for her to lean down and kiss you right there.

“Isn’t this going to look suspicious?” You ask as Caitlyn leads you down the hallway. “No. I’m simply a knight leading her lady to her quarters, because she feels overwhelmed by the festivities.” She smiles. “Wouldn’t it be chivalrous of me to assist her in calming down?” What were you getting yourself into right now?

“Sit.” She motions towards your vanity, and you take a seat. You watch in the mirror as she unfastens your corset, and every so often she’ll make eye contact through the mirror. “I knew this would happen one day.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “That you’d be betrothed.”

“I could refuse it. Surely, if I spoke to my father and explained-”

“There’s no way. I really don’t know what’s going to happen, but right now I don’t care.” She kisses your now bare shoulder. “Give me a moment.” She stands, and enters your bathroom. 

When she comes out, it looks like she just took off her armor. She’s still wearing a shirt and pants, and her hair is loosened. She sits on your bed, and you go to join her. 

Caitlyn has you both down to your undergarments. “You’re even more beautiful without all that nonsense.” She says in reference to the tight corset and pounds of makeup. “I swore my life to this body.” She says quietly while kissing your neck slowly. Her  hands explore your every crevice. “My lady…I love you. I don’t care about any suitor.” She whispers in your ear, before licking up the shell of it. She makes her way down to your legs, and parts them. “You’re okay with this?” She asks. “I need you to promise me.” You nod. “No, with words, your highness. Tell me what you want.” 

“I want you, Caitlyn. Please.” You plead. So unladylike. A princess should never beg for anything from someone below her. Ever.

Caitlyn kisses between your legs, but stops when she sees how strangely you’re reacting. “Oh- your highness I apologize. You’re a virgin. After all, princesses aren’t meant to indulge in such pleasures.” she sits up, looking down at you fondly. “How forbidden. A princess being wooed by her knight, and loosing her virginity the night she meets her betrothed. I could be killed for this, you know.”

She comes back down, and gently prods your entrance with her finger. “Just tell me if it’s too much, yes? Your highness?”

Your hands are on Caitlyn’s toned back as she prepares to deflower you. “I don’t know how to get you away from that suitor…He may be able to have you, but he won’t have this.” She gently inserts one finger inside you. It’s a strange new feeling, but one you welcome. Caitlyn kisses your neck gently, but occasionally chooses a spot to suckle on. She’s pumping her finger slowly. When you get too noisy, she shushes you. “Shhh…you can’t be loud, princess. Someone will hear you acting so indecently.” She’ll whisper. “Caitlyn!” She gently bites your ear in response. “Ah ah ah. Shh.”

“I’m serious when I say I could be killed for this. I’d loose everything I worked for.” She adds another finger, making you moan louder. “Shhhh… quiet princess. Can you really no longer hold yourself together? Becoming so weak because of your knight? How unladylike.” She scolds, and goes a little faster. 

When you feel yourself starting to climax, it’s almost like Caitlyn noticed first, because she’s moving faster. To muffle your reaction to your own climax, Caitlyn kisses you again, swallowing all your moans with quiet ones of her own. “Beautiful. That was beautiful your highness. You can do it once more, yes?” She coos into your ear. Even when you’ve finished, she doesn’t stop. “Princess, Please, let’s not go back to that stuffy ball with that awful man. I’ll take care of you.” She’s moving again. This time she lifts one of your thighs on each shoulder, and begins to lick and mouth your maiden hood. 

She’s keeping eye contact the whole time with her hazy blue eyes. She looks almost drunk off of you alone. You can no longer tell if you’re soaked with your own fluids or Caitlyn’s saliva. Her mouth feels warm against you, and you’re trembling.

You’re already going to climax again. Caitlyn’s tongue is determined to find all your sensitive spots. “Caitlyn..ahh. Please don’t stop.” Her grip on your thighs tightens and she buries herself deeper into you. 

After another climax, you feel spent. Caitlyn comes back up to lie next to you and pull you closer. “Was that to your liking, your highness? It certainly was to me. You taste just divine.” She murmurs into your hair. You fall asleep in her arms just like that. Luckily for you, Caitlyn locked the door.

“What now?” You smoothed your hair which was tied back in a bun. You got no response. Who could blame her? Anyone would be upset in such a situation. For the past month, you’d been having an affair.  Denying your future  husbands attempts to spend time with you in favor of sneaking off with Caitlyn. You couldn’t exactly avoid him now; sitting at your vanity in the while gown and veil. “Whatever happens, I’ll be there. I don’t care if that man is your husband. My loyalty is to you.” 

“Caitlyn..” you can’t find the words to speak to her. She sees your sadness and offers you help to stand up. She puts a hand on your shoulder, and uses the other to brush some stray hair from your face.“It’s alright. You look beautiful like this.” She has a strange, sad smile on her face. “Nothing will stop me from loving you, my lady. Please don’t forget that.” She embraces you once more, for what feels like forever. When you finally pull away, she kisses your forehead. “Shall we go?”

Taglist: @child-of-plut0

[thejukeboxzero]

@colorlessjay god bless lunch breaks for giving me the chance to write more of these shenanigans, enjoy

__________

“Dean, look.”

Dean looks down at Jack, who’s been dutifully trailing him around Sam’s ridiculously sized university campus for the better part of an hour, bee-themed bag bouncing on his back.

Jack waits until he’s sure Dean is looking then jumps up and down, the soles of his sneakers lighting up as they hit the sidewalk. When he’s done he looks up at Dean with a proud grin, like he knows he’s the coolest kid on the playground.

“I’m jealous.” Dean manages to respond before looking around the wide outdoor common space, “You sure you don’t know where your dad works?”

Dean had originally intended to just return Jack to the curb he accidentally kidnapped him from, but after waiting around for a few minutes he realized that Jack’s dad had probably already run off searching for the elementary schooler and that he should try and track the guy down, maybe apologize for the heart attack that comes with losing your kid.

“He works here.” Jack answers with a nod, “He teaches big kids about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

Jack shrugs, now distracted by a potato bug crawling its way in front of him.

“Really helpful, kid…” Dean mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. They’ve had this conversation maybe a dozen times and the answers always remain the same.

He’s tried calling Sam, hoping he’d at least be able to show Dean where he can return this kid, maybe a front office or security booth? But the little shit hasn’t been answering, probably too busy shoving his nose in pre-law books to even realize he was supposed to be outside an hour and a half ago.

“Dean, Dean-” Jack's tugging on his coat now and Dean, ever so slightly, regrets telling Jack his name, “Dean-” 

“What’s up?”

“Where does your daddy work?”

‘Hell, hopefully’ Dean thinks, unable to stop the way the venomous thought snakes into his mind, “He’s uh- He doesn't work anymore.”

“Where do you work?”

“I work at a place called ‘The Roadhouse’.” He tries to be as vague as possible, not wanting to be the one who explains the concept of a bar to Jack.

Jack frowns and cocks his head to the side suspiciously, a weird little habit he keeps doing, “Roads don’t have houses.”

The child's words sound accusatory and Dean finds himself needing to defend himself, “Yeah well… This one does. We keep it at work as a pet.”

He expects Jack to call him a liar, or to cock his head more like the change in angle will help him interpret Dean’s words, but instead he just gasps and smiles widely, “You have a pet!? Wow! We don’t have any pets, I really want one though!”

Dean clutches the handle of Jack's bag and begins to lead him away, towards the north end of the campus where he’s like 10% sure Sam should be, “What kind of pet do you want?”

“A snake!”

The kid just keeps getting weirder.

“A snake huh, that’s…” He doesn't want to insult Jack but snakes are just plain creepy.

Jack doesn't seem to notice Dean's distaste, too busy peering back over his shoulder, probably still trying to look at that bug.

He gasps in delight, “Dean!”

Dean doesn't stop, he can’t, he needs to get this kid to someone so he can go grab Sam, go home, and sleep until he becomes one with his memory foam mattress.

“Yeah, kid?”

Jack grins widely at him, “I see my Dad!”

“Where?” Dean whips around, tightening his grip on Jack, ready to run after whoever Jack points at and give him back his kid.

It's weird though, at first he only sees Sam, standing stock still about ten yards away, his face a mixture of mortification and pure horror.

Then Dean's jaw lights up with a crack of pain, his vision going white for a moment, and he’s suddenly on his back, sprawled out on the sidewalk with a metallic taste in his mouth.

A furious face appears above him, electric blue eyes glaring down with murderous intent, and Dean feels what he’s pretty sure is a knee pressed painfully into his sternum, pinning him to the ground as he wheezes, trying to regain the wind that has been knocked out of him.

“Hi, Daddy!” Jack's delighted voice is barely audible over the ringing in Dean's ears.

“So you’re his Pops-” Dean grumbles to the furious man above him, turning to the side and spitting out a glob of blood, “Awesome.”

_____

<<First│<-Prev│Next ->

[23xfgg]

YANDERE! BATFAM x DRUG USER/SOBER! READER

(Ch. 1)

(Ch. 2)

Ch. 3 <-

(Ch. 3.o5)

An // Sup my little omegas 😼 yes. You (🫵) are my little omegas *growls*. Your alpha is here to give you chapter 3 of this *gestures to the tumbler post* story make sure you say thank you alpha in the comments 😼😼😼🐺🐺🐺

the tag list is also closed!!!! (That’s a lie)

ALSO SORRY IF I DONT RESPOND TO COMMENTS YOUR APLHA OVERTHINKS THEIR RESPONSE TO THE POINT THEY DO NOT RESPOND AT ALL THINKING IT SOUNDS FAKE BUT I WILL LIKE TO SAY THANK YOU FOR ALL THE KIND WORDS I LUV YOU GUYS I WILL COVER YOU WILTH MY ALPHA SCENT FRRRR🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

With the Bat family 😱

They are constantly busy with their lives. Whether it’s them ensuring that their night lives as Gothams and Blüdhaven’s vigilantes aren’t exposed to the world or their regular civilian lives, keeping up appearances. But still with all that they are able to make time for the people in their lives. They just don’t want to make time for you.

Over these past few months they noticed small changes with your personality and appearance. Your makeup is darker, you always have rings on and your preferred shoes have a platform to them.

Your personality, once chasing after their affection and attention you are now just constantly locked in your room and if you are in a common area like the living room and they enter you make quick work of leaving and avoiding any type of communication/ commotion that cold of happened.

The first one of the brothers that noticed your change was Damian. He noticed the way you no longer lash out to the degrading comments he makes about you or your mom. Your eyes look dull during his ‘Damian insulting your very existence’ time, like you are thinking of other things than focusing on the words spewing out of his mouth. Which you do, you are mentally calculating how much of your personal stash you have left before you run out and probably have to buy more or go raid one of your stashes around Gotham. Depending on how much cash you have left. You couldn’t care less about what he is saying and just want to leave.

It took him by surprise (which he didn't show) when you just walked past him like he wasn't there and just walked out of the manor. He wonder at where heading off to but he didn't ponder long. There is an important mission he needs to focus on currently and that takes importance over whatever you are going to do.

Alfred was the first one officially to notice the change with you. He was with you often when you were younger. He treated you like you were his daughter that he cared for (not the one he abandoned for the Wayne family). So it hurts him when he saw you becoming more closed off and secretive. You even started lying to him about your activities. Whenever you were asked where you were leaving to you give him short answers like “Out.” or you just completely lie to him and say you are going to the movies. It hurts him when you lie but he isn’t going to push for the truth but rather leave his door open so you can tell him out your own free will.

He decided not to alert the change in your behaviour to the rest of the family because he knew that they would dismiss it as they don’t see an actual problem even though there is a problem arising.

Penis (Dick) was next to see a change but it was dismissed as soon as he noticed. You walked out of your room the same time he was talking to Tim about visiting some fast food chain that opened up recently. He saw you and had a brief memory of you asking if the he can hang out with you sometime. His excuse at the time was obviously “Sorry little birdie but next time for sure.” But next time never came. With the sudden recollection of that request from years ago he spewed another apology and gave an empty promise about hanging out together. You just rolled your eyes and returned back into your room thinking that the vodka you have in your wardrobe sounds much better than heading to the kitchen for actual hydration.

He brushed off your lack of response as you just accepting the ‘change of plans’ and finding something else to do (there was no plans to begin with but he didn’t know that nor remembered).

When Duke joined the manor, you were already extremely closed off and kept to your self so he just took it as normal. He only knew that this wasn’t how you acted before through Alfred reminiscing on how he use to bake cupcakes with you when you were younger.

He was curious about what caused the whole personality switch but knew you wouldn’t talk about it so he left it at that. Mostly because he doesn’t exactly know how you will react to him suddenly bombarding you with questions.

You only had less than a handful of interactions with Cass. Mostly because you were weirded out by the fact she can read people’s body language so well and you didn’t want anyone to know about your extra activities. So you may have came off a little cold but speed walking out of a room every time they are just about to enter and never realign making eye contact with them. Your reaction towards her probs made you look guilty but you didn’t care you just focused on avoiding them and keeping yourself to…yourself.

It’s the same with Steph. You constantly try to avoid her coming off as cold and distance but you don’t really care. You don’t even clearly remember when she came into the manor. You just woke up one day still high and saw a purple blob with a blonde top and just continued with your raid on the snack cupboard in the kitchen making sure to not take any snacks that belong to the other residents. And that was probably the last time you were willingly in a room with one of them albeit it was because of your hunger.

Bruce, Barbra, Tim and Jason didn’t really care. They barely notice the change with you and when the did they only dismissed it as a rebellious teenager phase that you will probably grow out of (AN// you will probably die before that happens. I am totally not foreshadowing….or am I wehheheeh) with due time. Never really focusing on your lack of presence in the room or in the over all manor. They all had better stuff to do. Bruce has to deal with being Batman, protecting Gotham, Brucie Wayne and his family. Barbra has her work as oracle cut out for her. Tim is a CEO at like seventeen. Having to manage that along with being Red Robin, and the hero teams he is apart of and being basically a computer whizz why bother even considering that he may notice you. And lets face it Jason has his own stuff with his unsolved anger with Bruce, being a crime lord/anti hero known as red hood, if he was going to actually notice you he wouldn’t care either way.

They will all see the changes but they never care…

An // RAHHHHH you can tell where I started to give up….tsk tsk

I do want to clarify that some members like Duke and Cass didn’t really join until after your personality switch so they have little idea to what you were like before hand while others just don’t care. Steph probably thinks that you are a raging bitch because you practically ignored her when she first met you. You probably didn’t even register her voice was aimed towards you because you were just trying to figure out when did the grimace get a blonde ponytail.. sorry Steph I love purple :p

The next chapter will come after a hiatus due to university work so I will probably not start anything until I am done with this semester and I’m finally on holiday

Tag list is in fact not closed I’m a liar but I will in fact close it when the next chapter drops y’all

So if you want to join these special omegas…just comment

taglist sorry to anyone who’s tag did not work and if I forgot you pls tell me in the comments: @welpthisisboring @vanessa-boo @shycreatorreview @jsprien213 @1abi @cxcilla @moon0goddess @sadeem575 @galaxypurplerose @zeros-rot @visualchu @lostsomewhereinthegarden @waterberryss @burningkittenprince @91-kya @scoutyyy @haileybugulug

Bye bye my little omegas…your alpha is going to miss use and your pheromones *AWOOO*🐺🐺🐺👋👋👋

[omnitrash]

Self aware Dmc where they can hear you or see you during cutscenes or during general gameplay. Not knowing how to feel about someone watching and even controlling them. Hell, you even talk to them as if they could hear you. I mean they could but you didn’t know that, and it’s not like they could respond if they wanted to.

Self aware Dmc where they slowly grow fond of you and the way you fawn or panic over them. Getting them more skills, sounding like you’re close to tears when they get hurt on accident and start apologizing. Or hearing you praise them for a job well done after a fight and even say “We did it! Or rather you did it…still! Good job!” and them chuckling internally since they know you didn’t include yourself due to not wanting to take any credit or something similar.

Self aware Dmc where the characters recognize you no matter what console you play in or no matter which game of the franchise it is. They’re glad to see you again and how excited you are to keep learning of their world.

Self aware Dmc where they love to see your reactions to certain things in cutscenes. Like finding the small numbers of each mission hidden in the cutscenes of Dmc 3 (you looked so cute when you got excited once you found the number). Or when you fought Vergil for the first time in Temen ni gru (he couldn’t help but be amused as you panicked when Dante almost died and when you started cheering once you got a hit in on him). Or when you looked so lost during Dmc 2 (Dante almost broke out of character when he uttered the lines “Do you have to ask?” and you just blew up and begged for answers due to the lack of context of the entire thing. How adorable). Or when you cried or teared during any emotional moment and worried over them (Lady still appreciates the concern you showed when she shot her father. And Nero and Kyrie are glad they had someone who cared so much for them when they were sealed in the Savior).

Self aware Dmc where they love seeing flustered over certain moments in the game too. It’s definitely their favorite thing to hear you shamelessly fawn over them, especially since you think they can’t hear you. If you happen to have a favorite from the cast, when you’re offline, they’d brag to the others on how much they fawn over them instead of anyone else. (Nero, for example, was extremely smug when he heard you sputter after saying “Gotta pay attention, sweetheart”. You could barely speak coherently, that’s too cute)

Self aware Dmc where they have to stay in character when they hear you cuss out any minor enemies or main antagonists during boss fights or cutscenes as if you’re arguing with them. Some of the insults aren’t half bad, they’ll give you that. Even if it barely makes sense to them.

Self aware Dmc where they feel bad when you get frustrated over a particular boss fight and can’t get through it after several tries. They don’t like seeing you beat yourself up for it and it makes them want to try even harder for your sake. Anything to make sure you don’t cry…again.

Self aware Dmc where they try to tweak some of the dialogue or cutscenes to give you more content or small 4th wall breaks. It’s endearing to see you so excited and flustered when they do.

Self aware Dmc where they eventually grow possessive of you, their dear player and want your attention all to themselves. How could they not, you’re just so sweet and caring towards them even if they’re just fictional characters to you. You treat and talk them like they could reply to your remarks (and they desperately want to. How they wish they could)

Self aware Dmc my beloved.

(I’ve never written headcannons or drabbles like this before, hope it’s good. And yes, most of these headcannons or scenarios were based on my own experiences when playing the games, sue me. There’s not enough self aware dmc content. WAHHH-)

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #16

"Aren't you curious?" Sam asks. "You gotta check it out!"

Danny is not, in fact, curious. He's watched everything his adoptive parents have done for the past six years wildly oscillating between amused and apprehensive.

The Fentons are eccentric, to put it mildly; obsessive, to put it insultingly. But when he's flipped through their papers, the formulas—while far beyond his comprehension—don't look like those of crackpots.

He wouldn't be here if they were merely that. He's not that lucky.

"We should go," he repeats, hands rubbing at his upper arms as a sudden chill works its way down his spine. And then, just as he recognizes the sensation, the world goes eerily still.

"Hello, Danny."

The creature steps forward from behind him. It passes by Sam's motionless body without a glance in her direction. It makes sense. In this silent, stationary world only the two of them truly exist.

The creature looks different this time. Its visage is that of an elder on the brink of death. So decrepit is it that the fluidity of its movement is the most unnerving aspect of its being. But its eyes are unchanged from the child that once came to Danny when he was at his lowest, piercing and red as blood.

Danny bows deeply at the waist. "Creature," he says, as politely as one can when using such a moniker.

The thing cocks its head.

"To receive such a greeting. I am honored."

Danny winces. "I am grateful," he admits. "You have done me a great—...you helped me. Thank you. And uh," his shoulders droop. "Sorry. For before."

They both pause to recall the eight-year old who once hurled curses and daggers alike.

"I have made grown men fear anew what lies in the dark." The Creature says. "You need not apologize for the actions of a scared child."

His eight year-old self would've bristled. He would've demanded retribution for such an insult. He was no average child. He had been raised to surpass the tolerance of any grown man.

His eight year-old self had been scared shitless, yes, but he would've died before admitting such a thing.

Danny isn't that person anymore.

"Yeah but. It was pretty rude." He rubs at the back of his neck. An easy tell. He's allowed that now, to tell and have it be easy.

The Creature seems to be cataloguing these differences. Whether or not it is displeased by these changes, it is difficult to tell. It would be rather ironic if it were upset, considering its technically the creature's fault in the first place.

Danny considers pointing that out, but the Creature is as unconcerned with small talk now as it was six years ago.

"I did you a favor, Danny."

Danny swallows. "Yes," he acknowledges.

"And now you will do one for me."

Danny closes his eyes. Just for a moment.

He'd known the second the Creature had re-appeared. He'd buried the knowledge of the deal he had made only so far as he could enjoy this new life without mourning its inevitable end.

He was built to be a weapon, and his decision had only been to trade the hands of who wielded him. A desperate choice, made by a desperate child.

I wanted to say goodbye! Danny Fenton wails, pushing his hands into his hair. I wanted to hug my Dad. I wanted to hug my sister. I wanted to hug my Mom. I wanted to hug my Mom. I wanted to hug my Mom. I want to hug my Mom—

Danny's hands are trembling.

Oh, he thinks. I did not bury it far enough.

Still, he opens his mouth and answers what has not been asked:

"Yes."

The Creature raises a hand and points past Sam, past Tucker. He points at the portal to the Ghost Zone. His parents' magnum opus.

"Go."

Danny nods, automatically. "I will go to the tunnel."

"You will enter."

"Yes," Danny agrees, blankly. The Creature provides no further instructions. Instead it watches him.

It doesn't work. Does the Creature not know it doesn't work?

It watches him. It waits.

So Danny approaches.

Confusion and fear keeps his steps slow, but the curiosity he never could quite kill keeps them steady. He's ashamed at how fast his heart beats, not because he is nervous but because some part of him, the part that never quite settled in this quiet midwestern town, is excited.

He spent the first eight years of his life fighting to keep it, and the sick part of him that trilled with delight at every blade ducked in the nick of time, every cliff he scaled bare-handed, every time he held his breath for deeper and longer than before—

goes abruptly silent as he reaches the mouth. He places a hand at its lip and peers into the yawning darkness before him.

There was a system of caves he regularly traversed, in the life before this. It was in those caves that he made the deal with the Creature, who brought him here.

"Wait," it says now. It hovers beside him, its purple cloak just skimming the floor.

"What are you?" Danny asks, staring into the tunnel.

"You know what I am, Danny," it murmurs. "Answer her."

"What?" Danny turns.

"I said," Sam exaggerates, "Aren't you curious?"

Danny's mouth is dry. The jumpsuit crinkles in his hands.

"Go."

"Danny?" Tucker asks. Sam lowers her camera.

"Go."

"...You know what?" He pastes a smile on his face. "You're right. Who knows what kind of awesome super cool—" too much, tone it down "—things exist on the other side of that portal?"

It's his idea. Whatever happens next, it was his idea.

His choices. His fault.

He pulls the suit on, letting Sam yank the sticker off. His friends stand together, and he lets himself look at them, take them in, just for a moment.

He steps inside.

Maybe. Maybe this isn't the end. Maybe he still gets to have this. Maybe maybe maybe.

In a previous life, he thought the caves would be his tomb.

But he made a deal. He escaped. He became Danny Fenton.

This is not the cavern of his childhood. He learned the crevices of those walls twice over; once by torchlight, then with the tips of his fingers and a cloth tied over his eyes.

Danny Fenton has a family. Danny Fenton has friends.

He trips on a wire. He feels the chill of unfamiliar metal even through his gloves.

Danny Fenton has hope.

The wall gives way under his palm. Something beeps.

And Danny Fenton dies.

[kateswallofweird]

EX-BOYFRIEND DICK GRAYSON . . .

dick grayson x reader who drinks coffee (though the coffee doesn't rlly add to or take from the plot so !); cw angst ish, highs and lows of a relationship

💭 a reminder that love isn't supposed to hurt. it might sting and it might be rough, but it isn't supposed to ache. take care of yourself and protect your heart xo

PART 2 HERE

being in love with dick grayson was like hot chocolate on a cold winter night and the first fall of snow upon season's change. he was warmth and light laughter. he was diving into the deep end of a pool and coming up for air when you thought you'd gone too far. he was brightness—your single star against the cerulean backdrop of the vast night sky.

but loving dick grayson was also silence after a long night. it was watchful eyes and rising tension despite your confusion. it was changing topics and a dismissive laugh, empty and unsettling. it was the cold creeping up and blanketing you in a chill you couldn't escape. it was midnight blue—a darkness that didn't seem all encompassing until you were stranded in the middle.

loneliness is a gut punch when you're surrounded by love but kept from it by distance. it's the hurt you feel at night, the ache that grows in your heart. it's knowing that things are over before it is, and the final act of desperation before joy evades you and light slips through your fingers. it's drowning without water and suffocating in your own desolation.

"i'm sorry."

your relationship had ended with a simple apology and unsaid words. there were no tears shed, no screaming match, no final attempt to stay together. there was only bitterness (of a love so great lost) and the sad realization of the end upon you (one long time coming).

but that was two years ago. things were changed. you were changed, and you had healed (though his initials were still etched into you). dick grayson was a thing of the past, or so you were convinced.

"it's . . . it's been a while, hasn't it?"

crackly like his connection was weak, his voice filtered through the speaker of your phone from your inbox of messages left from missed calls. he'd changed his number.

"i got a new phone and changed my number this morning. some wayne stalker situation. and bruce, he said to call him first, but i—" he laughed lightly like he couldn't believe himself, "i found myself dialing you instead. apparently, i still have your number memorized."

and you stilled in your kitchen, nursing your mug of scalding coffee, because what if you moved and you realized all of this wasn't real?

"i've been thinking a lot these days . . . about you, about us." he took a deep breath. "i messed up. i see it now. i'm sorry."

memories of your fights fought to the front of your mind, the scars his sharp words brandished on you and the fresh wounds your insults left on him. loving dick grayson was worth it, but it certainly wasn't easy.

"and i miss you. i hope that isn't too selfish of me." he cleared his throat, and you set your mug down to pick up your phone. "oh, it's dick by the way . . . in case you happen to have any other ex-boyfriends hitting your line. not that i'm wondering." he mumbled something under his breath that the phone didn't quite pick up, but a smile betrayed you. you could practically imagine his sheepish expression.

"so goodbye i guess," he said, his voice a lot closer to the microphone now as hesitance rang thick. "and um now you have my number, which i realize now you may not want, but if you ever feel some urge to, uh, call me—you can, and i'll answer. no matter what."

the line clicked and the message ended, leaving only the ghost of dick grayson and a whisper of your ex-boyfriend in your kitchen.

💭 how are we feeling dick grayson nation? attacked? comforted? good? bad? well there's going to be a part 2 (it's on the way!) so hang on tight ig!

[suspiriuums]

You and ROOMMATE!NAM-GYU don't apologize to each other.

Well, you do. At least sometimes. Otherwise, neither of you have ever felt the urge to utter the words "I'm sorry" to each other due to some bullshit complexes the two of you harbor.

That night was rough. What began as an honest discussion about communication turned into a screaming match of name-calling and accusations and overall bitchiness that led Nam-gyu storming off to his room and slamming his door. It was loud. Ugly. Your cat Miso ran off to your room in the middle of the fight to get away from the sheer volume.

"I just wanna know that you're not dead in a ditch somewhere, dude!" you yelled, arms gesturing wildly to punch emphasis on your worries. "It's so easy to pick up your phone and answer my fucking texts!"

Nam-gyu groaned dramatically. "You're so fucking controlling," he spat, throwing more insults your way, not advancing his argument any further.

As if he had an argument in the first place. At the end of the day, the loser had no respect for you. So he called you a bitch a few more times before storming off like a brat.

Several hours had gone by—the time inching towards 11 o'clock at night, and Nam-gyu hadn't come out of his room except to use the bathroom. When he ran into you, he'd just huff and roll his eyes before purposefully bumping into you, making you stumble and curse at him under your breath. And now you were knocking at his door, waiting for him to give you the go-ahead to be let in.

"Nam-gyu," you called out. "Nam-gyu. Either open the door or let me in,"

It took a few seconds, but then you heard the sound of a bed creaking and footsteps approaching the door. When it opened, there stood an annoyed, bitchy Nam-gyu wearing a gray shirt and old pajama pants. "What do you want?" he asked, voice dead and plain

You began to fiddle with your hands in front of you before asking, "Wanna go to 7/11?"

Nam-gyu looked up, shifting in his stance as he mulled over your request. Light taps on the door, sighing as he thought and thought and thought. Then he nodded.

"Yeah, sure," he answered before walking past you to get his jacket and shoes. "But you're paying,"

Of fucking course you were.

[martyr-inthedark]

Favorite Food

Tw: food whump, aftermath of torture, unreliable narrator, unreality

"Whumpee, what is your favorite food?"

Whumpee's eyes snapped to look up towards Whumper (not at him, never to look at him).

"S-sorry, sir?" It's best to ask for clarification than to do anything too soon. It was a lesson that caused Whumpee to chip a few too many teeth. Their heart pounded in their ears. It's been so long since they've heard their own name.

"I said," Whumper's fingers tapped the table he was sitting at, and his nose crinkled, "Whumpee, what is your favorite food?"

Dread swelled in Whumpee's chest. There was a right answer, surely. They took a breath, a whimper escaping their throat. Did they really have a say? Was this just another trick? A test Whumpee was doomed to fail? There were two options. They could be honest, and risk Whumper ruining another part of their identity. Or, they could lie, and Whumper could punish them for lying (he knew every time, the bastard-).

"Everything okay?" An intense blush filled Whumpee's pale face. Shit. Shit, they took too long. There was a right answer to this riddle. There had to be.

"Sorry, my lord. I am only deserving of what you give me," Whumpee finally choked out. They did not see but rather felt Whumper's eyes fall on their face for the first time all day. They could do nothing under his gaze except tremble on their knees and silently pray for mercy. They sat listening to the gentle 'hmph' from their master.

Whumpee flinched when Whumper stroked their hair, their first sign of affection in a long time. Whumpee wilted into their hand as cold finger tips traced down the side of their head, pushing hair behind their ear, falling down their cheek and finally landing under their chin. Whumpee's lip trembled as their gaze was directed to Whumper's fierce expression.

"Oh, my poor doll," Whumper tsked. Whumpee's new tears followed the same route Whumper's fingers did just moments before. "Whumpee, what is your favorite food?"

"I'm sorry," Whumpee started, mostly to soothe the risk that Whumper was getting frustrated with them, but also to buy themselves a moment to think. They had not thought of their favorite food in so long, after realizing that going home was not an option (anything to ease the pain of loss). Thinking back to a time that felt far away, it came to them, what they missed most. "I'm s-my apologies, sir. Um. I really love... it's hard to pick. Potato soup, or really any soup. Mostly potatoes. Sir."

"That's really interesting." Whumper let go of their chin and their eyes finally fell to their rightful place on the floor.

"Sorry," Whumpee whispered, falling quiet once more. They braced themselves for a bitter insult, a smack on the back of the head, anything, and nothing ever came. They continued to silently cry. What was Whumper going to do? They answered the question. Was it right? The not-knowing was killing them. How could they be good for Master if they didn't know what he wanted?

...

Evening rolled around and Whumper beckoned Whumpee to sit at the table. Dinner had been set, and Whumpee sank into their seat, not wishing to further annoy their master. It wasn't unusual for Whumper to want Whumpee to sit with them. However, it was rare that they had a plate or bowl, and the conversation from earlier still haunted their day. Whumper gestured, and Whumpee lifted the cover off their meal, and—

Potato soup.

Slack-jawed and wide-eyed they dared to look up at Whumper. This wasn't for them, it couldn't be. Whumper had already started eating, and though he had his mouth full, he commanded Whumpee to eat. Tears swelled in their eyes and they shook their head. They weren't supposed to eat until Master was done.

"Whumpee," Whumper warned.

Whumpee flinched. Whumper's chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. Whumpee shuttered at every slow step toward them. Finally, Whumper crouched down below Whumpee, taking their quivering hands.

"Look at me, sweetheart," Whumper said, gently stroking Whumpee's forearm. Whumpee sniffled and did as asked. Whumpee, for the first time all day, saw Caretaker's loving and concerned eyes. "The soup is for you, Whumpee. Just for you. You can eat it, or not eat it. Whenever you want. If you want to wait for me to leave, that is okay. If you want to eat it now, that is okay, too. Your decision is safe here, okay?"

Whumpee nodded, and wept. And they wept hard. No sniffles. No simple tears. They properly wept as Whumper-no-Caretaker pulled their starving frame into a hug.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm so sorry, Caretaker." All Whumpee could do was breathe out the words between sobs. They never felt more broken, more irreparable, than right there in the reality of Caretaker's arms.

"I know, doll, I know. You don't have to be."

"I thought—I must be an awful person—I thought you were him."

"You're okay. You're not in trouble. I'm glad you see me, now. I'm glad you're here."

Whumpee felt sick of themselves. They wished for a day they could wake up in the morning and feel whole. They wished for a day they weren't afraid of blinking wrong. They wished for a day where they could just eat their favorite food and it not be cold from waiting on them to get over their meltdown.

[thatgirlsworld36]

You are mine- Jobe Bellingham

---One shot; Jobe Bellimgham x fem!reader

word count--> 4.8K

WARNING:mention of alcohol; angst, jelousy unprotocted sex(wrap it before you tap it!) , kinda rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, fingering, hair pulling(like once)... my writing!!

a/n- That's the first time i write one shot and the first time i'm writing smut in my life, sooo. Hope it's not too long. Lmk if i missed something in the warning.Also english is not my first language. Stay safe <3

Enjoy!

The moment the door slammed behind me, the lively chatter and laughter from the other room faded to a distant hum, leaving us in an uncomfortable silence that seemed to envelop us like a heavy blanket. I turned around and met Jobe’s gaze. His jaw was set,  and his eyes narrowed. 

-What the hell do you think you’re doing?- he hissed in a low, husky voice. There was something fierce in his gaze. Poisonous. My stomach churned just from the intensity with which he was staring at me, but I managed to find my voice and speak.

-I'm having a good time with my friends? I don't see where the problem is.

-Y/N, are you serious right now? The problem is that you were openly flirting with him!- his hands balled into fists. He took a step towards me, not taking his eyes off mine. He took another, almost completely closing the distance between us.

-With whom?- his words caught me off guard. I felt as if he had just slapped me hard, but his hands hadn't moved. They sat tight against his body, still clenched into fists. He was trying to suppress his rage. - Jobe, I really don't know who or what you're talking about. I haven't flirted with anyone!

- Don't tell me you didn't notice the way he was looking at you!- he growled with a force in his voice that bordered on shouting.- Everyone in the room saw you smiling and laughing at his jokes.  How you lean closer and closer to him. How you let him pull you aside to whisper something in your ear because “you didn’t hear him.” Don’t make me look like a fool!

My heart pounded in my chest. I tried to calm myself down to quell the rising argument, but the insult from his words was too strong. Had I ever given him a reason not to trust me before?

-Do you know how much you mean to me?-  he continued without even giving me time to defend myself. -I can't sit back and watch you try to get someone else's attention! You're mine. Do you understand that? Mine!

-Jobe, I didn't do anything! I don't want to hurt you.- I tried to sound calm, but my trembling voice gave me away. I didn't want this, I didn't want to argue with him. I was fighting back the tears that were trying to escape me. -I wasn't flirting with Victor, I was just trying to have fun.

-I didn't mention a name. Did i?- His voice became low, almost a whisper, as he leaned closer to my face.  His dark brown eyes were indistinguishable from the darkness. I could feel his anger all over my body.-If you weren't guilty, you wouldn't know who I'm talking about. And does having fun have to come at the expense of other people's feelings? How can you not understand that you're hurting me?

I stared at him for a minute. My thoughts wandered and I could feel my vision blurring. I hadn’t done anything. At least not consciously, I didn’t want it to seem that way. Nor do I want to hurt him.

- You didn’t say his name but I’m not stupid Jobe! I know you’re talking about him. Tell me, what do you want from me? To apologize for something I didn’t even do?- the calm left my body. I wasn’t going to let him accuse me of something for no reason.

-I’m not convinced about that anymore Y/N! If you’re not stupid, then you’re just too blind. Do you even care about our relationship? Do you care about ME?

Hot tears slid down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold them in any longer. The tension seemed to take over the air and suck even the air out of my lungs. I opened my lips to answer him, but when nothing came out, I closed them.  My mind had become a dark, scary place. It was like I was a prisoner to myself. 

-Come on, what happened? Don't you have anything smart to say anymore? Or do you think that if you cry everything will go away?- his voice was colder than before.- I'm asking you for the last time Y/N, do you even care about me?

-Jobe, I-

The closet door opened and Jude's head poked out. It was obvious that he was a little tipsy, and the surroundings and our faces made no impression on him.

- Not that I want to interrupt you, but two of the guests are leaving and- he was stopped by a quick burp, took a sip from his glass to quell another and continued- and I decided to take you back to the party. Or was it a reunion? Whatever.

He turned his back on us and with a slight sway headed back to the living room as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't interrupted a pressing argument. 

Jobe took a step forward to pass me, but suddenly caught my jaw between his fingers.

-This isn't over. We'll talk again when everyone leaves. By then you'll have plenty of time to think about what you did and about my question.- his thumb slid down my cheek, wiping away a few of the escaped tears. The feel of his hand on my skin was warm, almost comforting. A stark contrast to the chaos in my head.  With his little finger and ring finger, which were under my chin, he lifted my head slightly, making me meet his gaze again. - Do you need me to repeat the question again? You know, in case you've already forgotten it. 

I shook my head. There was no need, it was already imprinted in my mind. It sounded like an endless echo that wouldn't leave anytime soon. That wouldn't leave ever. But this answer wasn't enough. He squeezed my chin very lightly, barely perceptibly, but indicating that this wasn't enough for him. He expected something more. 

-No. No need. - I whispered under my breath. 

-Our future depends on you. Think carefully.

______________________________________________________________

The noise in the room was deafening—laughter, music, broken words that I couldn’t put together into a complete sentence. But it all sounded distant. Muffled. As if someone had put a thin layer of glass between me and reality. I don’t remember how I got to the living room after my conversation with Jobe, or when I picked up my glass, but now, as I sat on the couch, staring at the melting ice, none of that mattered. Drops of water ran down the side of my glass, onto my fingers, but even that couldn’t break me out of the trance I was in. It couldn’t save me from my mind. 

Jobe’s voice still rang in my head—low, thick, filled with anger and jealousy. It echoed like a bell. Louder than the music.  Louder than laughter, louder than conversation, but not loud enough to be found and removed from my mind. 

"You're mine. Do you understand? Mine!" 

I looked into his eyes as he said it. Dark, deep, unyielding. The tremor in his voice, the way his fingers gripped my jaw roughly. The gentleness with which he ran them down my cheek. This moment felt more alive now than the world around me.

One of the guests spilled his drink, someone leaned over to wipe it, and another toasted something I didn’t hear. The world kept moving, but I wasn’t part of it. My gaze kept falling on Jobe. He was surrounded by his brother and other friends. Jude was waving his arms cheerfully and telling some ridiculous story that he would probably regret in the morning. And Jobe was just sitting there. He was trying to act like nothing had happened, but he couldn’t fool me. Not me. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping his glass, and his other hand was in his pocket. As if it was the only way he could stop himself from clenching them into fists. His shoulders were hunched forward slightly, and his jaw was still set. He hadn’t looked at me once, but I knew his full attention was focused on me. 

 I bit my lip, trying to swallow the weight in my chest, but just then I felt movement next to me. A hand rested on the back of the couch next to me, making me jump slightly.

-Are you okay? You look… not here.

Not here. Yes. That's right. I'm not here.

But then I recognized the voice. Victor. I looked up from the whiskey in my hand and met his blue eyes. So different from the ones I love, the ones I desire.

-Everything is fine.- my answer was short. Evasive. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Especially him. 

A cold shiver ran down my spine. The feeling that someone was watching me made my blood boil. I quickly moved my gaze from the blue orbs in front of me and met Jobe's eyes. Brown. I didn't think it was possible, but his gaze was even more dangerous than it was in the room earlier. He was watching me. Closely following my every move, every word, every gesture I would make to the man in front of me. 

-Y/N, are you even listening to me?- Victor's voice was loud, shouting over the music trying to catch my attention.  

- Excuse me, I don't feel well. I think... I'm going to go out onto the balcony. I want to get some fresh air.- I answered him quickly. Mechanically. I got up from my place on the sofa and left my glass on the coffee table next to me. 

 -Are you sure everything is okay?- his hand landed on my shoulder. My whole body tensed. I felt like all eyes were on me. Everyone was waiting to see how far he would go. Where Jobe's patience would end.- I can…

-No no no, im okay.- I interrupted him quickly before he could finish and pushed his hand away. Someone behind me called out Jobe's name, which caught my attention. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw him. He had turned completely towards me and Viktor. The glass he was holding before was nowhere to be seen around him, and his hands were clenched into fists. He was no longer suppressing the impulse.- It was nice to meet you, Vic. Good evening!

-Are you sure Jobe didn't do something? If so, you can always tell me.- with these words he put his hand back on my shoulder and looked at my boyfriend. It was as if he was challenging him. He wanted to see what he would do. Will he hit him in front of everyone?

- I said everything is fine!

I didn't give him time to answer and hurried to the balcony. I needed to be alone. The guests had decreased drastically, but the situation was pressing me more and more. When everyone left, one persone would remain. I needed to have a conversation with the man I love. A conversation that would turn into an argument. An argument that most likely wouldn't end well.

The moment the cold air hit my face, all my emotions rushed over me. Hot tears started to fall down my cheeks, making my hair stick to my face. My vision was blurry, but I managed to reach the railing and grab it. I held it tightly, as if it was the only thing holding me here. An icy wind blew around me, lifting the ends of my dress and making my hair fly away a little from my face, but I didn't feel the cold. 

 I stared straight ahead, unable to feel anything other than fear and rage. I was afraid of how it would all end, whether he would find out that I hadn’t done anything. Then the rage came… Jobe REFUSED to understand the truth. He was accusing me for no real reason. Without ME giving him that reason. I just wanted to disappear. The wind to pick me up and blew me away. Somewhere far away. Anywhere but here. Not at this moment. Not in my home. 

The balcony door opened, but I didn’t turn around. I kept looking ahead, my eyes half-blurred and my head repeating a sentence. Over and over. Like a knife that cut into me harder and deeper with each repetition. 

“Do you care about ME?” 

Something heavy fell on my shoulders. A jacket.  It smelled like  alcohol and cigarette smoke, but one scent was stronger than any other. Or it wasn’t. Maybe I was just so used to it that I could smell it on everything. Pure poison for my mind. Or an addictive cure. I didn’t know. I knew the jacket was Jobe’s. I knew he was standing behind me from the moment the balcony door opened. But I wouldn’t turn around. I didn’t want to. I wasn’t able to…

-Was he here? With you. Alone, just the two of you.- His voice was low. It sounded cracked, trembling as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time. But this time I could feel not only the rage in him, but also a hint of pain. Was I really hurting him?

The cold finally took hold of me. I pulled his jacket a little more over my shoulders and let his warmth and smell take over me. I squeezed my eyes so hard that small white dots appeared on the otherwise black background. Tears continued to fall down my cheeks, and my lips felt like they were glued together. I didn't want to speak. 

  I felt movement behind me. Before I knew what was happening, two hands came down to me, and his chest was pressed against my back. I opened my eyes slightly and blinked in an attempt to chase away the tears. He had me as if I was in trapp. His hands were millimeters away from mine. He was gripping the railing tightly, his knuckles turning white the same way they had earlier when he was gripping his glass. His body pressed against mine as if to keep me warm. He was protecting me. But I wasn't sure if it was from himself or from others.  

  I felt myself shivering. I didn’t know if it was from the cold or from all the emotions raging inside me. I didn’t know how I hadn’t felt it before. 

-Please.- He was shivering too. Not just his hands and voice, but himself.- Just tell me. Was he here with you? When Victor left the room shortly after you, did he come here? Please.- There was pain in his voice. It was so strong, it made my heart break into small pieces. And I was to blame for this pain. But at the same time, I wasn’t.

-No. He didn’t come here.- It came out as a whisper. I didn’t know if he heard me. 

A quick sigh escaped his mouth and he rested his head on mine. My arms parted. My fingers were no longer holding the railing, and my eyes burned, but I wasn’t crying anymore. We sat like that. Glued to each other for what felt like an eternity.  Gentle actions and moments that were in complete contrast to the harsh and chaotic words and thoughts in my head.

-Jobe, I can't…

-I don't want to argue anymore. I don't want to fight.- His voice was soft. I didn't feel the rage in him. Not anymore. 

  He put his hands on my waist and turned me around to face him. Our eyes met again. Brown. My favorite color. A color I never thought I would like. He put his hand on my cheek again like he had done before, but now it felt different. Better. More intimate. 

-Let's go inside. We can warp up there.

  It wasn't a question. He was telling me what we were going to do, he took my hand and took a step forward, then stopped. He was waiting to see if I would let him lead me. If I would let him end the argument. 

I followed his lead and stepped forward as well. A faint smile appeared on his face and he led us to the bedroom. Jobe slid his hand down my back, slowly and possessively, as he led me to our room. A moment later, he put it back on my hand. I could feel the warmth of his body next to me, the firm grip on my wrist. Not too strong, not painful, but enough to know he wasn’t going to let me go. Not before he got what he wanted. Me. 

We were close to the door when a familiar voice pierced the space. 

-Y/N! 

Victor. 

I looked back and saw him—he was standing at the end of the hallway with a blonde girl next to him. He was smiling and had his hand raised in the air. 

-Tonight was great. I’ll see you soon. 

Before I could react, I felt Jobe’s grip on me tighten.  His body froze next to mine. I looked back at him, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. His eyes were fixed on Victor. The calmness that had emanated from him a few seconds ago was replaced by a much darker feeling. Jealousy.  

I exhaled when I realized that Victor was simply leaving and raised my hand to wave him back. Just a gesture, purely friendly. With no intention of annoying Jobe with it or ignoring Victor.

But I couldn't.

A strong hand pulled me into the room. The door slammed behind me and my back was violently pressed against it. A dull echo echoed through the walls. Jobe's eyes looked at me again. Pure black. Full of newly charged anger, jealousy, but also passion. 

-What…

His lips were locked on mine before I could even finish. He wasn't just kissing me.  He was taking what was his. His tongue thrust roughly into my mouth without any mercy. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in a new trap. I didn't want to escape anymore. I was enjoying the end of the evening more and more.

 The kiss was getting more and more intense. Intoxicating. My lungs were running out of air, but I didn't want to pull away. His right hand was already gripping my jaw, while the left hand loosely held close to my waist.

Suddenly Jobe pulled his lips away from mine and touched our foreheads. We both struggled to take a quick breath. The moment of calm didn't last long. His lips found mine again and he started kissing me more roughly. This time his hands were roaming all over my body. I could feel him everywhere. It was as if he was under my skin and merging with me. His kisses started to go lower and lower. His mouth was roughly biting and sucking my neck. He was marking me.

-Only mine.- his voice was low and deep. Desire was pouring out of his tone.

Only mine…. Only mine... Only his.

His hands slid under my dress, pulling me out of my little trance of ecstasy. The face that was buried in my neck quickly slipped out and looked me in the eyes, grabbing my jaw again with one hand.

-You're not wearing underwear, love?- he sounded surprised. Excited. His eyes looked at me hungrily. Like a predator looking at the half-naked body of its victim. I was in front of him, pressed against the door, my dress lifted to my waist. Without underwear or bra.- Tell me, honey…- he buried his head in my neck again, biting and sucking harder.- did you do all this for me? Is it because of me that you walk around all evening without panties ?

 I just nodded, unable to answer. The lips on my neck, his teeth digging lightly into my flesh. The hands that roamed my almost naked body. Everything was almost wonderful. Intense. Intoxicating.

 A hard slap hit my thigh, making me moan slightly.

-I asked you a question, princess. Are you going to make me repeat it? Are you seriously going to play with me like this? Right now?

-Yes Jobe, for you. Only for you.

-And risk all the guests seeing what a little slut you are? Risk Victor finding out.- his hand slid under my dress finding my bare breast squeezing it at the mention of the other man- And you didn't do it for Victor. Are you sure? You dressed like this, in that short red dress, without underwear, not for him. But for me.

I nodded my head to confirm. It was all just for Jobe. A second hard slap cut through the air. This time it hit my ass.

-Yes Jobe, it's all just for you. I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you. I only want you.- I almost cried with pleasure. His fingers had begun to make slow circles on my clitoris, his mouth sucking, tugging, and biting the skin on my collarbone, and his other hand was playing with my breasts. It was almost perfect. Almost. I could feel his cock throbbing against my leg. It was begging for release. My hand slid slowly down his chest, reaching the bulge in his pants.

-That was it.- he hissed softly against my skin, his hands finding the hem of my dress just above my hips and lifting it above my head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Then he picked me up by the waist and threw me onto the bed on my stomach.

I bit my lips hungrily as I listened to him unbuckle his jeans, letting them fall to the ground. I tried to turn on my back to look at him, but I was stopped.

Smack.

A hard slap hit my ass, making me stop and moan slightly. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the slight stinging pain on my flesh.

-That was because of your attempt to make a fool of me, to make me believe that you weren't flirting with anyone.

Another slap, a fourth one crashed down onto my already slightly reddened skin. A moan escaped my lips, making me bite them, trying to suppress it. There were still  more people down there. Our friends.

A strong hand grabbed my hair, making me arch my back and look behind me.

-That was because of the fact that you were flirting with him. Whether it was conscious or not.- with those words he struck another spank- The fifth, was because of the fact that you had been walking around almost naked all evening, almost revealing to people what is mine.

I bit my lip harder and harder, trying to stop my sounds of pleasure and ecstasy that were struggling to escape. I looked at Jobe's hungry eyes almost innocently. As if I didn't want this. As if I wasn't enjoying it.

-That- a stronger, sixth slap followed, making me close my eyes and let out the moan of pleasure I had been keeping between my lips.- is because you're trying to hide the sweet little sounds you make. Good girls don't do that. They let their boyfriends hear them. And you're a good girl, right?

-Yes.- my voice was quiet. A barely audible sound, mixed in an atmosphere full of desire, passion and jealousy.

A final seventh slap landed on my ass, causing the burning and slight pain to increase. This time I let my moan escape freely, earning me a slight smile from Jobe.

- The seventh was just because I can…and to remind you who was fucking you.

Jobe Bellingham. Number 7.

He turned me around sharply and slammed his lips into mine again, pulling my hips closer to him.

-Only. Mine. Damn it. Mine.

His lips left mine, but before I could protest I felt his tongue give my naked and throbbing clit a quick lick. My head fell back onto the pillow, and my hands tangled in his black curls. His fingers found my entrance, thrusting just one in. Slowly. He teased me

-Damn, you're so wet. Just for me.- his lips sucked hungrily on my clit. It was like he hadn't eaten in days. His finger started moving faster, making me tighten around him. Almost perfect. Almost again, but not quite.

-Jobe, please. I…I…Oh my god…

Jobe inserted a second finger the moment I started talking. He moved them faster and faster, making me roll my eyes and lift my hips closer and closer to his mouth. His tongue was circling my clitoris. I could have sworn I saw stars. And I wasn't even with my eyes open.

His fingers began to move like scissors, making me come closer and closer. His other hand held me in place, his iron grip not allowing me to move anymore, and his thumb was drawing light vague figures on my thigh. It was making my body relax even more.

-You want to come, don't you? I feel you love. I feel you curling around me. How your little cunt is trying to strangle my fingers. How it's begging to come. Do you think you deserve to come, hmm?

- Jobe yes…I…please, I Jobe…- his name came out like a mantra. As if that was the only thing my mind knew. The only thing that mattered.

- I don't think so.- with these words he slowed down his movements. His tongue was giving light licks on my clitoris, and his fingers were moving much, much slower. He hadn't stopped, but he was bordering on complete rest.- I think you're going to come on MY cock. Only there.

He bit my clitoris lightly and moved his fingers again quickly, making me tangle mine in his hair again and lower my head moaning his name.

I didn't know how long his sweet torture lasted, but I felt like I wouldn't last much longer. I had to finish. I couldn't keep being brought to the edge and then he would stop, give me time to calm down and start all over again. Just because he could.

-Jobe I…I can’t…any more I- it almost came out as a sob. The stolen pleasure was getting harder to bear.

- Too bad, I told you, you’ll come all the way on my dick. And I’m not done playing with my beloved princess yet.- his fingers started to stretch me again and he bit my clitoris lightly. That was my last straw. Despite my attempts to stop myself, my orgasm overtook me, turning me into a moaning mess. My thighs writhed under Jobe’s grip and I could feel his gaze staring hungrily at my face. His fingers were moving much faster than before, making me come out faster from the ecstasy I had fallen into.

When my body calmed down, my eyes cleared again and I was able to see something other than black and white spots, I met Jobe’s gaze. His eyes were fixed on me. Furious. A short slap fell on my sensitive clitoris, making me moan loudly.

-I told you not to come. Good girls listen to what they are told.

He took off his boxers in less than a second and inserted his cock into my still sensitive pussy.  He started moving immediately. Without giving me time to adjust. Rough, hard and deep. He pressed his chest to mine and grabbed my face, making me look at him.

- You are so tight as hell. And so mine, damn it.- he smashed his lips into mine. His thrusts became faster and faster, his lips - rougher and rougher. Everything was almost perfect… no. Everything was already perfect.

Our sweaty bodies stuck together, making us feel each other's hearts. Jobe broke our kiss, touching his forehead to mine, closing his eyes.- So mine. Say it. Tell me you're mine.

-Only yours.- with these words he buried his head in my neck inhaling my scent. His lips kissed lightly with his mouth open the point of my pulse. His thighs didn't stop their brutal pace- Jobe, I...I'm close I can't...I can't take it anymore.

-Come on, I'm with you. Let it go darling, come on, show me you're mine. Show me who makes you cum.

With these words I released the knot in my stomach again. I felt Jobe's sperm descend into me shortly after. Making our juices merge. After a few more thrusts he allowed himself to get out of me, hugging me tighter. His head still buried in my neck.

I liked the ending I was worried about. Me and him entangled, hearts beating side by side.

-Only mine.- he whispered and kissed my neck, pulling the sheets over our naked bodies.

My masterlist

[retireddaddyric]

“You’re nobody.”

Synopsis: (y/n) is a journalist who always throws shit at Daniel Ricciardo but she gets to interview him after he retires and things get steamy!

Warnings: 18+, insults, swearing, degrading, bad words, spanking, sex acts, unprotected sex.

Note: this is all fiction. English is not my first language, so I apologize in if there are any errors.

You never liked him. That’s why every written piece of yours about him had titles like “The devil behind the God of the paddock”, “Daniel Ricciardo: the driver who never really made it”, “The clown of a fake circus”, “All honey, no badger”.

His ego was big, his fans crazy, everyone loved him, even those who claimed they didn’t. He laughed everytime and everywhere, you asked yourself for years if he laughed in bed too or if at least there he would take things seriously.

In fact, when people used to show him your articles in his paddock days he just laughed confidently at cameras and left with witty answers. He didn’t like people who questioned his skills and you did, always, stabbing him exactly where it hurt.

You didn’t hate him, but you thought he was a mask. That his behavior was built behind cameras, that he was good on track but he was more interested in being a Netflix star. And now that he was retired he had all the time in his life to start his acting career.

“The end of a lame career, the start of a stellar one in Netflix”, said your last article about him which was published the day Redbull sent him home.

During his racing days you would even come cross each other in the paddock, looking at each other from distance with a challenging stare but none of you ever spoke to the other. You wrote shit about him, he would bring it up during interviews throwing strays at you but never saying your name out loud, never giving you the satisfaction of being recognized.

And you didn’t care. You liked being the controversial voice in his hero-like story.

What you didn’t understand though was why of all people who asked to interview him after retirement he refused them all.

Except you.

And you met him in his Monaco apartment, four months after seeing him leave the paddock in Singapore with emotional eyes. That day he smiled too, but his eyes were sad.

You’re sitting at an armchair in his trophies’ room, they look at you like a punch in your face. Your legs crossed, your notebook on your lap and the pen in your hand looking up at him while he stands before a desk, leaning against it, his arms crossed.

You didn’t introduce yourself when you entered his house, he didn’t exactly welcome you in.

He just nodded and asked you to follow him here. No smiles, no shake of hands.

“I thought you were taller, since you always seem like to speak from above everyone.”He smirks.

“And i thought you were more humble, not even being sent home reduced your ego as big as the whole paddock.” You say fast. “Actually I’d never thought you’d face me.”

He smiles. “I’d never thought you’d ask for an interview face to face. I thought you were scared!”

“Scared of you?” You laugh sarcastically, your eyes dropping to his big nose, that squared jaw.

He smiles looking down at you, finding you extremely hot for not having fallen to his feet once for all there years. “Admit it.”

This back and forth goes on in between your real questions.

“You were a promising future f1 champion once, what happened in the in-between?”

“Sometimes the track decides for you. The checkered flag can’t always be yours.”

He smiles and looks at how you uncross and cross your creamy legs.

“Some say you lost your confidence and that lead the teams to drop you off.”

“Pression isn’t really something you can escape in this sport and I’ve had a lot, if you’ve really followed the sport.”

“Do you miss it?” You say making him look back into your eyes.

“There are other ways to feel your heart beat fast.” He scrolls his shoulders, smiling.

“Would you change anything if you could go back?” You look at him in the eyes with a piercing stare.

“I’d rather lose everything again than lose myself.” He says proudly.

“Isn’t it ironic? Going from being one of the most feared on the track to being the most liked on social media? Is really the helmet what you like better?” You smile venomously.

“Likes on instagram don’t give me the adrenaline rush.”

“But your career ended without glory. Do you think people still follow you for your talent or because you became a shining toy for sponsors and magazines?”

“Oh you tell me since you’re here to get a piece of me.”

“I think it’s easier to become a celebrity than to admit your reflexes got less sharp.” You try to hit the nerve.

“If you think being a formula one driver means just being fast you’re even more naive than what you look. But I forgive you, not everyone can keep the pace.” He crosses his ankles looking at you with a bastard smirk.

“With all these fast answers one would think you’re just a character and not a man. Is there still something real underneath?”

He smirks. “You like to provoke people. I could like you if you didn’t feel the need to throw shit at me every time.” He says looking at the recorder on the armrest of the armchair.

“I don’t throw shit, I just want to see if you can hide behind the helmet once more.”

“You wanna challenge me?”

“I just wanna see for myself if all those good things they say about you are rooted on a real soil.”

You look at each other for a long moment.

“Drop that pen before I start answering with my hands.” He says low.

“You’re scared words might bare you more than how hands could.” You provoke him.

“I’ve got no problem of baring myself, not even at being looked at while I do so.” He smirks. “You, on the other hand, are still keeping that pen in your hand, you need it to feel in control?”

“No I need it to make you keep talking.” You say rising your eyebrows and tapping your chin with the pen.

“I’d rather show facts than talk. Because you provoke people but then you slam your foot on the brakes.”

You hit the recorder button, the red light turns off.

“I never hit a brake in my life.” You say dropping your pen on your notebook.

He walks towards you looking down at your lips.

“Then hold on tight.” He says grabbing the notebook and making it fly above his shoulder.

His hands grab you by the hips and he picks you up effortlessly sitting you on the desk.

His hand grabs your face forcing you to look up at him. The other one is at your thigh on your jeans.

“You wanna know if you like me too?” He whispers huskily.

“I don’t like you.” You bite your bottom lip. “I’m convinced of this.”

He smirks. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Try harder, cham-“

His mouth is on yours, kissing you like a starved man, leaving your insult in mid air.

You feel your insides burn, you kiss him back with the same hate, the same violence. He pushes himself between your legs pulling you closer to his body by your ass.

“All that mouth and look where you are. In my hands.”

“Are you even capable of keeping me in your hands or is it all scene?”

“You wanna play hard, (y/n)?” This was the first time he used your name, it rolled surprisingly good out of his soft lips.

His hands tear your shirt open, he squeezes your tits in his callous hands. You moan throwing your head back as he pulls your bra down in a sharp move and sucks on your nipple, hard.

He pushes you on the table by your throat and uses the other hand to cup your sex from your jeans.

“I bet you’re already dripping.” He whispers darkly touching you.

“You have to work harder, champion.” You breathe heavy, saying the word ‘champion’ in a sarcastic tone.

And before you could finish the sentence he flips you on the table so you’re bent forward on it. He grabs your wrists and keeps them on your back with his left hand. The other one pulls your jeans down fast, violently.

He slaps your ass hard, you moan arching your back.

“You like to play tough but look at the way you spread your legs.” He says pulling your lacy thong to the side and sliding two fingers in, fucking you with them, then three, without mercy.

You moan, your pussy is soaking wet, your hips shake in pleasure. His fingers are expert.

“There you go, you’re pretty wet for someone who doesn’t like me.. is this why you wanted to interview me right?”

“I’m a professional.” You say breathlessly. He laughs sarcastically “Are you now?”

Then he turns his fingers inside, curling them.

“Warm and tight, like it’s made just for a big dick, yeah?” He asks before pulling his hand out and slapping your ass cheeks again, wetting it with his soaked fingers.

“All those articles, all those names and you’re trembling underneath my hands..” he laughs devilishly.

You close your eyes when you feel him unzip his jeans. Then he fists your hair pulling your head backwards towards his mouth. You feel his big dick between your asscheeks, sliding, making you needy.

You squeeze your eyelids waiting for him to thrust inside but he doesn’t. He keeps you still with his hands while he teases you.

“Always late.” You whine while you try to sound in control.

“Say you want it.” He dares you.

You swallow “I do.” You say a little ashamed.

“Louder.”

“I need it.” You shout.

“Words!” He gnarls.

“Fuck me Daniel! I need you cock!” You breathe out of your throat.

He laughs shaking his head “Our elite’s journalist begging to be stuffed.” He smacks your ass and licks your ear. “Dirty whore, it’s humiliating isn’t it, needing the same person you said you never liked, begging him to satisfy your inner slut.”

And with that he thrusts his cock inside you, balls deep. He roars putting a hand on your nape and the other on your round ass, keeping it spread open. Your hips shake, your eyes roll back in your head, you moan loud.

“Fuck..” he mutters, his chest heavy. He looks down at his cock hidden inside your cunt. It’s too god to be a normal fuck. And then he starts moving, deep, hard. A punishing pace.

“You’ll miss my cock more than your fucking pride after this.” He whispers. You whine in pleasure grabbing the end of the desk with both hands. His hand falls on your ass again, smacking the red skin. You jump but moan loud. “Yes!” You shout.

He smiles. “You take me like you don’t wanna let go.”

“Asshole.” You say choking oir.

He keeps thrusting, faster now. His voice is breathy when he says “It’s because you would have been no one without my name. Your articles about me are the reason you are still a journalist.”

“I am a journalist because I am good at my job.” You’re panting, your eyes crossed, your lips parted. It feels too fucking good.

“You’re only good at being a viper.” He hits your cervix with a particular very hard thrust. “And at taking my cock.”

He grabs you by the hair again pulling you towards him and speaking in your ear, his lips brushing against it, the hard stubble scratching your cheek. “Or maybe you did all that because deep down all you wanted was to be taken like this.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You pant, your legs shake, your inner walls squeeze his cock tight from within.

“You never did, still you talked.” And then he pushes your head back on the desk and starts fucking you like an animal, like a possessed. Your blurred eyes from ecstasy look towards the window, out at the blue sea. You never felt this good, nobody ever made you feel this kind of pleasure.

You squeeze your eyes shut and he smirks when he sees you jumping back towards him, taking him even harder.

“Fuck yes, you can’t even fake hating on me now. Isn’t this the failed driver’s cock?” He says husky, his t-shirt clinging to his sweaty chest, his hips hitting so hard you are bruising yourself against the desk.

He grabs your slim waist and with forceful thrusts he makes you come so hard. You moan loud, shaking, your lips biting so hard on your arm you can taste your blood in your own mouth.

You hear him laugh low, breathing heavy. “Who’s ‘finished’ now, uh? Who’s ‘desperate’?” He said reminding you all the words you had called him in your articles all over the last year.

Then he puts both hands on your ass and after some very hard thrusts his cock pulses inside you and he fills you up, squeezing your ass in his strong hands. He groans loud, throwing his head back, his adam apple jumping.

Then he pulls out, you’re laying there looking at the blue outside, panting.

He watches his cum slide down your inner thigh.

“A wasted seat. That’s what you called me after the Bahrain grand prix last year. A broken ghost of a driver.” He whispers, zipping his jeans. “Who’s the broken one now, (y/n)?”

You stand up and pull your thong and jeans up. You adjust your bra and closing your shirt you whisper.

“This isn’t finished Ricciardo.” You threaten him.

“Oh you wish.” He smirks.

(part two anyone?)

[ramp-it-up]

Knock You Down: IV

Photo credit to @thebluemage. Edit mine.

Part III | Knock You Down Masterlist | As Hard As I Did

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Finally! Date Number Threeeeee!

This is a follow up to

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This is the final part! (For now) I think that this is one that I will definitely write in answer to asks. I just love these two so so much! Thank all of you for rocking with me on this one. This was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. SMUT!!!! The end of the Slow burn, now it's burning very fast 😅. Cursing, flirting, jealousy, apologies, Bucky cooking (a warning!), kissing, dry humping, dirty talk in both English and Romanian, voice kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected sex (yay Bucky!) And these two are so fucking fluffy. I'm scared, y'all. I want it to be good enough for the build up.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

As soon as he entered the Brownsville Arts and Culture Center, James Bucky Barnes was hot. Blood was rushing to his ears and he needed a drink. He wasn’t sick; his symptoms were all due to you.

The black dress that adorned your body contained all of his hopes and dreams, but you seemed to be flirting with another man, twirling for him and then giving him a hug. To add insult to injury, you had the nerve to laugh and smile with the punk. 

You in that black dress was everything in the world that Bucky could want, except maybe you out of that black dress. As his eyes traced down your form, he noticed the 5 inch red bottoms that you had on. Yes. You, out of that dress with just the red bottoms. That was what he needed in his life.

But first, he had to take care of that other man.

—-

“Benson’s work emphasizes the subjects’ spiritual essence over their physical appearance, don’t you think?”

You turned around at the sound of the deep baritone. 

“Well hello, Mr. Rogers. How are you today? Delivering an art analysis given to you by AI? Oh. I forgot. You are an ‘art dealer.’ An art dealer who goes to Soul Cycle in Brownsville all of a sudden?”

Steve clutched his heart.

“Ah. I’m hurt, Y/N. I thought we were cool. But I guess I deserved the air quotes.  I do actually love art. I took some art classes when I was a kid and I still love to sketch.”

“Hmmmph. Okay. I’ll give you that. But how is it that you popped up in my Soul Cycle class? Don’t play me, Steven.”

Steve raised his eyebrow at you and grinned. He understood why Buckiy was so drawn to you. Not only were you gorgeous, you were a spitfire. That was hot.

“I would never try to play you, Y/N. I also actually love Soul Cycle. Used to teach a class in Park Slope.”

“I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, can you?”

Steve’s eyes slid over you appraisingly.

“Speaking of. You look very, very nice today.”

You twirled for him, feeling as safe as you would your brother.

“Nice. Okay, listen. I’m sorry about the other day. I was just trying to protect my friend. And you.”

Steve sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ve never seen Bucky like this. He’s never been this smitten with someone before and let them into his life. But I get it now.”

Steve’s blue eyes were almost as beautiful as Bucky’s.

“Bucky is my family. Since we were kids. He’s always taken care of me. And I will do anything for him.”

He raised his eyebrow at you.

“I can see now that means that I will do anything for you, because I have a feeling that you’re gonna be around a lot. So do you forgive me?”

You considered Steve. He was not too different from his best friend, and you couldn’t hold a grudge. Not after Bucky laid it all out to you last night You opened your arms.

“Let’s hug it out.”

Steve chuckled and gathered you into his warm embrace. You pulled back and giggled, grinning at him.

“So what makes you think I’m gonna be hanging around?”

“Well, judging from the look on Bucky’s face, he’s serious about you.”

Steve nodded behind you, toward the door. You looked that way and saw James Bucky Barnes headed straight for you. 

And he didn’t look happy.

—--

“Good morning, Frumoasă. You look stunning today. The exhibit is amazing, the space looks great and it seems that the right people are in the building.”

Bucky came up and placed his hand on the small of your back as he spoke to you, ignoring Steve. His blue eyes were storm clouds at the moment, and his touch was electric.

“Thank you, James. You’re so observant, I appreciate that. And you look very handsome today.”

You looked him up and down and bit your lip, meeting his gaze and the way he kept eye contact as he inclined his head in response. 

Bucky was attractive as hell in his black on black shirt, blazer and slacks. You noticed that his collar was unbuttoned; the medallion hanging on his chest made you want to take it between your teeth. You stared at it for a moment, imagining such a scenario where that could happen and then met his eyes again, prompting desire to roll through you as Bucky licked his lips. He was right there with you.

You smiled at him in a way that you didn’t smile at Steve. Who was Steve Rogers, anyway? You could hardly remember meeting him as your mind went to the feel of being in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

You sensed an air of proprietariness as Bucky took your hand and kissed it, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Possessive Bucky Barnes felt like a sin you wanted to indulge in. You cleared your throat and looked at Steve, as if surprised to find him still standing there, watching the show.

“Well, I see some board members over there, I’m going to go do my job. Talk to you later, boys.”

You walked away and gave them a wink over your shoulder, and you caught both of them looking at your ass. You shook your head and chuckled as you went on your way.

“You trying to steal my girl?”

Everyone stopped when Steve laughed, his deep boom a distraction. Bucky still wasn’t amused.

“Oh. So you’re in love.”

“What?”

“You’ve never worried about me taking your leftovers or vice versa before. Hell, we’ve even shared–”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Bucky snapped at Steve who put his hands up.

“Whoa, there. Just yanking your chain, buddy; I know she’s special. I wouldn’t dream of making a move on her. Not that she knows I’m alive. When you walked up, I thought I was going to have to take off my jacket so you two could fuck on the floor.”

Bucky was barely listening to Steve as his eyes followed you around the room. One thing Steve said was echoing in his mind: “So you’re in love.”

—-

You floated through the rest of the day on a cloud. The exhibit was a smashing success with the 

Board of Directors in attendance. Securing Howard Benson’s penultimate work from Rebirth was the feather in your cap. 

And you had Bucky to thank for it.

Bucky’s visit was also a hit; he and Steve charmed the board members with the help of Sam and Nat, who arrived later. They all made amends for what occurred that week and you were left very impressed with James Barnes.

After a couple of hours at the event, Bucky came over to let you know he was leaving.

“I will see you later, Frumoasă. I have much to prepare for tonight. Nico will pick you up at 7:30.”

“See you soon, James.”

He kissed your hand again.

“See you soon, Y/N.”

—---

“It is actually insanely attractive how you handled yourself in the kitchen.”

You were seated with Bucky on his couch in his living room, looking over the New York skyline from his Brooklyn penthouse. The dessert had been delicious and the wine in your hand was spectacular. 

“I was sure you’d order something in and just play it off. But I watched you create a meal in front of me, and I should have known that if you said you were going to cook, that you would do just that.”

Bucky’s heart beat double time at what you were saying. He wanted so much for tonight, but most of all, he wanted it to flow naturally. He saw that you were relaxed and open to him, which pleased him immensely.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Frumoasă. I enjoy cooking for my friends and family. Cooking for a beautiful woman is a treat.”

Bucky’s eyes slid over your form. You had changed to jeans and a color block sweater that just put your cleavage out there for the world, which was Bucky Barnes, to see. You also wore the same red bottoms from that day, and Bucky was beginning to think he had a foot fetish as you took them off at his entryway.

You took a sip of wine.

“How often do you do that? Cook for a woman?”

You barely hid your curiosity.

Bucky smiled and drained his glass, reaching over to refill it.

“Not as often as you’d think. Never had any other woman over here. Food is not usually the top priority with them.”

You pouted, which was so cute. Your spark of jealousy inspired Bucky.

“But I don’t want to talk about anyone else. Tonight is about me and you.”

Any uncertainty that arose was quelled by his assertion. You grew warm, so you finished your wine and rose to go to the window. 

“This is the most gorgeous view I’ve ever seen.”

“Absolutely agree.”

You looked behind you and Bucky was still sitting on the couch, hands spread out on the back of it, checking you out. You gave him one of your adorable smiles and he came to stand behind you, and took you in his arms. 

“I want you to know that you deserve everything, Y/N. To be cheered on and protected every day. And thoroughly ruined every night.”

You turned around and his hands went to your hips. It was the perfect moment.

“James?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

Bucky’s eyes dilated, and he moved his hand to your cheek. He licked his lips as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Ah, Frumoasă. I thought you’d never ask.”

His first movement was a subtle brush of your lips. He pulled back to assess the situation, and you didn’t know why, but that made your nipples tighten into stiff peaks. You gasped as Bucky watched you hungrily. 

The air seemed to change around you, and you shivered. He lowered his head so his lips could meet yours again, and this time his mouth was gentle but demanding. You gasped at the spike of electricity that flared between you and Bucky took the opportunity to dip his tongue into your mouth, scorching your lips and soul. With a low groan, he shifted your angle, bending you backward a little to kiss you deeper and ripping a moan from you as you melted against him. 

Good lord, could the man kiss. 

At that point, he was holding you up, one hand on your hip and one hand on the back of your head as you molded yourself against him. Bucky’s fingers dug into you, sure to leave bruises the next day. You relished the thought as you moaned into his mouth again, giving him the opportunity to continue destroying your soul. 

Bucky dragged his lips from yours reluctantly and stared at you, eyes almost black with desire. He brought his thumb up and wiped the moisture from your bottom lip. Motivated, you captured his digit, drawing it into the hot wetness of your mouth. He stared at you, mouth open, as you looked him straight in the eye and started sucking.

Bucky moaned as he pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth, and walked you back to the couch. He extracted his finger, watching the show your lips put on as he pulled it out, leaving them in a delectable pout. 

“More,” Bucky demanded as he crouched down and took your head in both hands as he kissed you again. 

His hands wound up in your hair, tugging gently, then on your back, then your ass as you arched your back to fill his palms. Bucky picked you up, then deposited you on his lap as he sat down on the couch, and you felt how aroused he was. His thick length was where you needed him most.

“Fuck! That feels good.”

Bucky was watching you grind on him like it was the best show on earth. Then he looked up at you.

“Yes, yes it does.”

He leaned forward and captured your bottom lip between his teeth, a preview of how rough he wanted to be with you. Then, he went in for another kiss. That continued for a good five minutes until he pulled away to stare at your swollen lips, and down to your cleavage, which was practically in his face.

When his eyes met yours, you were entranced.

“You good? You want this to happen?”

You nodded and took his hands in yours, guiding them up to your breasts, squeezing yourself with his hands. You rolled your hips, causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Like you said, James. More.”

You continued to grind on him, causing him to just gape at your body moving on his.

“I’ve dreamed of this so many times…”

“Yes? Tell me about your dreams, Baby.”

His hands moved to find your nipples through the lace of your bra and the wool of your sweater. He found them in no time, and pinched them lightly, then more roughly when you moaned.

“Mmmmnnnn. So fucking hot.”

Bucky kissed you again and then pulled away as he stared you down and tortured you. 

“I dream about marking you up,” he kissed your neck under your chin, “to your clavicle,” a kiss there, “and all over this beautiful flesh until I get to your nipples.” 

He looked at you for any signs of discomfort as he slipped his hands under your sweater to find the thin lace there. He found your hard peaks again and started rolling them both in his fingers.

“Then I want to kiss and suck them until you come in my arms.”

“Holy god, Jamie….”

Bucky’s eyes rolled at the second pet name you called him and continued.

“Wake up so fucking hard every morning since I met you. Then, I daydream about how wet and tight you will be after I made you cum, and how good it would feel to… to give you my cock. Do y’like that idea, Frumoasă?”

“Y-yesssss!”

“O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă.”

You almost came right then.

“D-don’t know what you said, but yes to whatever you just suggested.”

Bucky pulled you to him, and then chuckled into your ear.

“It means that I want to make you cum over and over again on my cock.”

You were already making a mess in your jeans, but you knew he could feel you soaking them at the moment.

“Please. Give it to me?”

Bucky groaned and kissed you again, this time encircling your waist in his grip and pressing you down on his bulge. 

“You know I can’t deny you anything. Are you certain?”

“Yes, James. Please…”

He lifted you easily, kissing you as he walked you down the hall to his bedroom, depositing you on his bed. 

“Y’look so fucking good.”

He crawled toward you on the bed and settled between your thighs as you hitched your leg over his. You pressed your core against his bulge and it had you muttering.

“Too many clothes.”

Bucky leaned up and you were fumbling with his button and he with yours. You looked up and laughed. 

“Maybe faster the other way.”

“Agreed.”

You two made quick work of your own garments, flinging them around the room between frenzied kisses. The way your eyes widened when Bucky got naked made his chest swell. He wanted you to always look at him like that.

“Wow…,” you said as your eyes roamed his physique.

His cock seemed massive as it slapped him on the abs.

“Wow, indeed,” replied Bucky as he took you in hungrily.

Your white lace underwear looked amazing against your skin and against your cunt it served to make him hungry.

He moved toward you again, kissing up your leg until he got to the edge of your panties and nudged his nose there, making you squirm.

“Smell so good, look so good…”

Bucky kissed at the edge of your underwear,

“I just know you’re gonna taste good too..”

He moved to the center of you, placing a kiss over your lace-covered sodden slit. Then, he looked up at you and smirked before he leaned down and licked you over your panties. 

“Fuck.”

He pulled your panties to the side and gazed at you there. 

Those blue eyes threatened to steal your soul as he gazed at you and confessed, “This is the most gorgeous pussy I’ve ever seen,” and proceeded to lick a rude stripe up the center of you after he tore your panties away.

“Oh my god, James.”

You rolled your hips again and reached down to feel Bucky’s soft hair. He pulled your hips closer and his lips suckled you with more pressure, adding one finger, then two to stretch you out. 

“Gotta get you ready for me, my love.” 

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you moaned through Bucky thrusting his tongue inside you, then pulling back to focus on your clit.

“I c-can’t.. I–”

“Give me my cum, Frumoasă!”

You locked eyes with him as he buried his face in your cunt and shook against him as you came embarrassingly fast, pulling on his messed up curls.

“So fucking delicious. Taste.”

He took your head in both hands and kissed you deeply, and you responded by sucking your essence off of his tongue. You reached down and started stroking his cock, overjoyed and a little bit scared that your fingers didn’t meet around him as he unclasped your bra.

Bucky whimpered as your thumb came up and stroked his sensitive head, spreading his precum over the wide, mushroom cap.

“You’re so fucking huge, Bucky…”

Bucky pulled you toward him as he reached into his bedside drawer for a condom and a bottle.

“And you’re so wet, Furmoasa. We will make this work. Believe me…”

You continued to stroke and watched him as he brought the wrapper to his teeth and him tearing it open was about the hottest act of sexual protection you’d ever seen. Somehow, your mouth ended up sucking his tip as you watched his eyes roll back into his skull.

“That beautiful mouth…”

Bucky put his hand on your head as you tasted him experimentally, wondering if you’d ever be able to take it all. He seemed to read your mind as he spoke next.

“Don’t worry, I plan on us having a lot of practice with this later, but if you don’t let me put this condom on, I’m gonna cum all over your face, Frumoasă…”

You looked up at him and grinned as his cock jumped in your mouth, but you finally pulled off of him with a pop.

“I need to feel you around me when I cum love. S’all I’ve been dreaming of all week.”

Now his chest was heaving as he rolled the condom on, and he pushed you back onto the bed as his hand went to your core once again. You were even wetter than before and Bucky smiled at you, lining up and kissing you on the forehead as he began to breach your folds.

When he slid inside, your fingernails curled into his shoulders and your eyes grew wide. Bucky stopped, concentrating while his cock pumped, barely inside you.

“There is nothing. In the world. Like being inside your soft, wet, cunt.”

“Fuckkkkk!” 

You became even wetter and he slid fully inside you. There, Bucky waited for you to get adjusted around him.

“So fucking tight. And hot. Just like I knew you would be.”

“More, Jamie!”

Smiling, Bucky started moving and you gripped him as he stroked in and out.

“Please don’t stop. Harder!”

Bucky grabbed the headboard and gave you what you wanted. His other hand pulled your hair and his strokes became more intense.

“Wanted to last longer, but I can’t, Baby. So beautiful. Pussy made for me. Cuming soon, but later… O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă. I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

You orgasm whited out your vision and your throat burned as you screamed. Bucky roared, filling the condom with copious amounts of cum. Your cunt was milking him and he hoped it would hold. He stayed sunk into you as long as he could before he had to get up and rid himself of the prophylactic.

He was only in the en suite for a few minutes as you floated in and out of sleep, lust drunk and exhausted.

Bucky climbed back into bed and got both of you situated under the covers, whispering in your ear.

“Stay tonight.”

“Of course. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Both of you chuckled, because you knew it was true. Bucky kissed your ear and waited for your breath to even out. When he thought you were asleep, he whispered again.

“I’m going to be a better man for you, Frumoasă.”

“You are exactly who you need to be, James Barnes. Just keep moving forward. Tomorrow is another day to do that.”

After a few more minutes, you spoke again.

“Tomorrow will only be a week that we’ve known each other. Imagine that.” 

Bucky buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Guess I better wait until tomorrow to ask you to marry me.”

You laughed a sleepy laugh.

“You got jokes.”

“You know me, Frumoasă. A professional comedian.”

But somewhere in the dark of Bucky Barnes’ closet, a diamond found some light and sparkled.

——

The next morning is here ;)

Please, please! Let me know!

[noxitsnox]

if we get too closе, would it be okay?

hyun-ju x gn!reader - highschool au

summery: hyun-ju came out to her- now ex- girlfriend who spread the rumor around the whole school.

tags: trans/homophobia (the word tr**ny is used one (1) time), bullying, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff i promise, let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: i am obsessed it's not fair. this is pre-t but i'm still going to use she/her pronouns for hyun-ju <3 also english is not my first language and this isn't proof read, so i apologize for any mistake. @exactlyinfp

hyun-ju didn't want to go to school that day. her girlfriend, ex girlfriend now, broke up with her just because she trusted her, because she didn't want to hide anymore and she believed that her girlfriend of almost two years would understand. but she didn't. she called her all kind of names and blocked her everywhere.

she hoped this was where it ended. that they could just ignore each other and keep living life as it is. it would have been so much easier that way. but the moment she entered the school hallway she knew something happened. the looks she was getting were strange, full of hate. definitely not the looks you receive when you just broke up. she tried to ignore it and walked to her class with her head down.

it was early. a lot of time passed before some of her classmates entered the room. maybe it was better if they stayed outside. their chatter died down as soon as they saw her. one of them, who was seated next to her, took his desk and dragged it as far away from her as possible. “you're sick”, he said under his breath. “stay away from me.”

she stayed silent as the realization hit her. if he knew, everyone else did too. fighting tears, she forced herself to keep cool.

slowly people filled the room. everyone ignored her, even her so called friends looked at her with disgust. only y/n seemed to be acting as if nothing happened. maybe they didn't know about it yet. they’ll turn their back to you like everyone else, she thought.

“oh hyun-ju, how are you?”

y/n waited for an answer that never arrived. so, with a sad smile, they spoke again. “it's fine. you don't have to talk with me. you have my number in case you change your mind.”

———

for the rest of the week she ignored everyone. she was barely alive.

every morning she entered school feeling like a criminal. her locker in the changing rooms was filled with insults. some guys even tried to push her on the ground. that was the only moment she reacted. she could ignore words, but physical aggression was were she drew the line.

every night she cried herself to sleep, wishing she had someone on her side, someone to talk to. her family didn't know about what was happening in school and she hoped for it to stay that way or she wouldn't even have a home anymore.

it was on saturday afternoon that she lost it. she was out, getting some groceries for her mother at the local market, and she saw her ex with her friends. she tried to hide before they could notice her, but she wasn't fast enough.

"oh god, isn't that that tranny you used to date?", one said pointing at her.

"don't say that out loud, please. what will people think of me?"

hyun-ju ran away without even taking food from the market stall. she kept running until their voice became indistinguishable echoes.

she sat on the side walk and took out her phone, looking for y/n contact. she started crying, the tears blurring her vision.

their words came back to her. you have my number in case you change your mind. were they serious? she hesitantly called them, hoping for the best.

y/n didn't take long to answer and for that she was grateful.

"hey, you called!"

"i- yes... listen can you, can you come here?"

"oh hyun-ju, you're crying? is everything okay?"

"i don't even know anymore. please, just come here." and with that she hung up the phone, quickly shared the position with them.

she hugged her knees as she waited.

———

y/n was happy that hyun-ju called, even if the situation wasn't ideal. even though they weren't intimate, they cared about her and it made them sad to see her suffer. especially if she was being ridiculed for something beyond her control.

y/n tried to get to her as fast as possible. they went out in their sweats without bothering to put on something nicer. they didn't like the idea of hyun-ju seeing them in that state, but they also realized that they had to put vanity aside at the moment.

as soon as she saw y/n she got up and hugged. they remained in that position for a while. hyun-ju cried and cried while y/n rubbed her back, doing what they could to comfort her.

"sorry... i don't know why i did that", she said as she let go of them.

"you don't have to apologize. do you feel better now?"

"i do, thanks."

an awkward silence fell until y/n suggested they start walking with a wave of their hand, "do you wanna talk about what's happening?"

"i just want to forget about it. can we talk about something else?"

"oh sure", y/n looked at her and smiled. "do you wanna hear about this manga i'm reading?"

a/n: i realize that for an xreader the reader is barely there 😬 sorry. let me now if you liked it!!

[fictionalsweethearts]

CONVENIENTLY CLOSE | VI X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Seven years have not passed in vain, and the woman in front of you seems to be Vi's sign, but hardened by prison, stronger, taller, eager to live the lost years. And to see you again. Faced with old habits and the need for a place to lay low, Vi takes refuge in your apartment and stays conveniently close, maybe too close.

Contains: arcane!vi, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of arguments and dialogues, nsfw, explicit stuff, arcane universe, childhood friends, romance why not?, SESBIAN LEX

Word count: 6,780

Note: This fic was born from this bot which gave me juicy material to use here, part of the story arises from it, all credits to the creator!

Also, english is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

It happened in the blink of an eye, the fleeting eye contact, a chill running down your spine as you stopped to look again at who you thought was dead or gone. You paled like a ghost, barely taking a step before her arms were around you, and you let out a gasp.

You barely recognized the woman whose face buried in your neck; the toned arms, the network of tattoos on her arms, the gear on the side of her neck, the pronounced hairstyle and the piercings moved this Vi away from the one you once knew, seven years did not pass in vain and both had changed a lot, but the memories still endured. You wrapped her with doubtful arms, insecure but at the same time overwhelmed by the situation.

Your mind was flooded with memories the moment you dared to inhale the essence of her neck, that sweet aroma hidden behind the sweat and leather of her jacket, the same smell that crept into your nostrils on those afternoons on the couch, practicing boxing together, hiding in the alleys to avoid the poor victims of your pranks full of enthusiasm and malice. Of that last hug that morning, before the paths separated, life changed, Vander died and Zaun sank into chaos commanded by organized crime. Everything had changed but that hug brought you back to sweet adolescence for a few seconds, before you pulled away.

"For God's sake, you're... muscular." you murmured then, looking at the taller woman with attentive eyes.

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Vi's hands start to roam, finding their way over your shoulders. A smile appeared on her lips, the same thought kept repeating in her mind 'it's her, it's her'.

"It's an statement."

You could barely form a question in the face of such a situation, your childhood friend returning from a seven-year disappearance to stand before you in all her glory, alive, healthy, certainly different but still her nonetheless. At your sudden silence, Vi giggled, patting your shoulder gently. "Long story. don't wanna talk about it just yet."

You nodded, studying the Vi who was once four inches shorter and scar-free, realizing that wherever she was, circumstances had hardened her. “You were in prison,” you said then, not as a question.

“Surprise, surprise,” Vi muttered sarcastically. “I wasn’t dead. And i'll spare you the gritty details, cause I didn't exactly break out. I served my sentence, somehow."

She'd always had a habit of being vague, even during your childhood years. She never answered your questions directly, and she never explained herself when she got into trouble. It frustrated you back then, and it's no different now. "Enough about me. you're gonna have to fill me in. it's been like, what? Seven years?"

"Wait, I-" you had to shake your head and take a breath, cause suddenly having Vi before you wasn't among your plans. You were still at the alley. "Can we... go somewhere else? Grab a drink, talk this out?"

For a moment, she looks like she might refuse. For a moment, you wonder if she'll duck away, the way she always did. But then Vi sighs softly and nods.

"Lead the way, then." she takes a step back, folding her arms behind her neck. "I'm not payin', though.”

Gathering your thoughts and whispering a 'what a night' under your breath, you begin to lead Vi through the backstreets of a Zaun she no longer knows, but you do. Jericho served a wonderful octopus stew, and Vi was able to verify it once again after so many years. You sipped your cocktail, watching the hungry girl in front of you devour the plate, the Zaun market maintained its usual flow of customers and workers, a swarm of smells and sizzling of embers, murmurs, knives and pans to the fire filled the place.

"Now. You better start explaining how did you break out jail." you said.

The question doesn't come as a surprise - Vi had been expecting it. She sighs, and her eyes flutter up to yours, trying to find the words, trying to find the right way to say it. "I didn't break out. I served my sentence." she can see your skepticism, your disbelief, and she adds: "I got parole. Good behavior. That kinda bullshit."

"Good behavior. You?" you scoff.

"Yeah yeah, I was a saint, believe it or not. Guess I had a change of heart, people grow and all that."

"And now you're out and hungry." you comment, watching Vi finish the bowl and let out a hint of a burp.

"You gotta admit, the food behind bars is not so good." Vi grins at you again, her eyes flickering to your drink. "And the drinks either, care to share?"

Vi takes the glass, wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the base. She stares at the liquid for a moment, then her gaze drifts to meet yours, she's thinking, a lot. "Seven years... seven years is a lot of goddamn time. Almost don't recognize ya. What've you been doing all this time?"

"Let's see…" you say, your eyes scanning the market as you gather up seven years of your existence and rank them in order of importance. "I have a job, I'm… an interpreter."

"A what?" she asks, raising a brow.

"I translate, dumbass."

"Oh, right right." Vi giggled. "You work for the pilties, do you?"

"Actually, yes. I get many academic texts to translate."

"Ah, a sneaky rat. No wonder you'd take any job," she snickers. "I'd almost feel betrayed if you said you never went back to your old life of stealing and pickpocketing."

"I realized I couldn't lean on crime forever." you shrug. "Languages fits me better."

Catching up had never felt so necessary. Vi had undergone a true metamorphosis in prison, a wild flower torn from its roots and still able to cling to life with minimal water, in hostile, dry, cold soil. Now she was outside, eager to feel the putrid Zaun air against her skin, no matter how foul-smelling it was, to continue a life that hadn’t even begun yet. Yet it was the means that worried you.

"What's your plan?" you asked after a short moment of silence. "Now that you're out."

"Well, I gotta lay low for a while. They ain't gonna be lookin' for me out in the streets, but that don't mean I should be causin' trouble." her lips pull into a small smirk, as her eyes flicker to you. "Maybe I'll start robbin' the rich and givin' the profits to those in need. Or something like that."

"You'll get yourself in prison all over again." you said, rolling your eyes.

"What, you think I need you to lecture me, mother?" Vi's mocking tone couldn't help but annoy you. Again with that blind confidence and smug smile, hasn't changed one bit.

"Where are you staying?" you asked, sipping your drink which suddenly tasted bitter.

"Don't have a place. Can't exactly go back to my old apartment, for obvious reasons." her expression shifts into a smirk, a gleam of an idea passing her eyes. "Why? You offering a place to crash?"

"Huh, figured out so. You don't have a goddamn place to crash and still you intend to start robbing again?"

"It's not robbing, it's just taking something that some rich snob doesn't even need. Besides, I'll manage, alright?"

The conversation wasn’t going in the direction you expected, a sour feeling settling in your stomach as you recognized an old pattern that the years had accentuated in Vi; her stubbornness. It was one thing to be happy for an old friend who had gotten out of prison, but it was quite another to still believe that crime was a way of life and support that. And you were sick of that shit.

"I gotta go." you said, laying a bill on the table. "I have a paper to submit due tomorrow."

Vi's expression changed to as if she had been slapped. “Hey, I thought we were catching up. Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

"I'm happy for you, Vi, but I'm not who I used to be anymore. And neither should you be." you say, your tone so sober that Vi thought you were pulling her leg until she saw you get up from your seat and start walking away. Vi scowls and grabs the bill you left on the table, crumpling it up in her hand.

"Damnit."

Zaun had changed. It was no longer the fragile balance between misery and hope, but an overwhelming network of crime, wrapped in the growing business of Shimmer and prostitution and the certain tacit anarchy that ruled its existence. Vi needed a few days to get used to it, to recognize the city that saw her grow up and find a way to make her way through that melodious chaos. Crime had evolved, the presence of enforcers was increasingly scarce, which gave way to more aggressive, more experienced, more ingenious criminals when it came to benefiting from the few assets of the rest. In Zaun there were no rich people, only the owners of manufacturing factories, who pulled the strings and commanded drug trafficking, who could not be counted on more than one hand's fingers. However, Vi was not going to allow herself to feel strange in the city she called home, not before playing her cards and making her way into the market she knew best apart from crime: fights. With raw confidence and the certainty that seven years of training behind closed doors had given her the skills to hold her own in the ring, Vi went to the Pit and signed up for one of the night's matches. The result? A downcast and barely alive opponent, Vi claimed a spot she didn't intend to give up, and a bag full of coins. She felt right at home.

It took her three days to make a small fortune, yet her name was frequently whispered and attracted unwanted attention, putting her in a position where she had to remain low for a few days. She could keep that up long enough to make a living after seven years in confinement, but to do so she needed the hospitality and goodwill of someone in particular; you. You assumed Vi wouldn't incur in invading your precious privacy, but that wasn't the case. Not when, working on one of your latest translations, in the quiet of your apartment just a couple of blocks from the red-light district, you felt the fleeting passing of a shadow in front of the window and your alarms went off.

She had to admit, you'd picked yourself a nice little spot to settle down in. Vi could have sworn you would have moved to Piltover, after hearing about your choice of profession, but here you were, all cozy in a fancy apartment in Zaun. She couldn't be sure it was exactly safe, but you probably had ways to deal with that. A couple hours of lurking around in the shadows, and she found herself outside of your apartment window, looking in. Vi takes a moment to study the view through the window, observing your movements inside. She should probably announce her presence, but she can't help the little thrill that comes from the thought of spooking you. 

Believing herself undetected, Vi stepped into the house while investigating what she thought was your office. A room cradled with an aesthetic chaos of shelves, books and plants, a kitten sleeping by the window, very self-absorbed in his feline dreams to recognize a strange smell in his safe space. But you certainly had better instincts than Pepper.

"Stop there or I'll blow your fucking head." you stated, holding a gun against Vi's head, not even recognizing her in the darkness of the room.

Vi's eyes widen as you suddenly speak, the cold metal of the gun pressing against her skin. She raises both hands in a small surrendering gesture.

"Woah, woah! Easy, doll, it's just me."

You remove the gun from her temple, realizing that it was Vi and not another petty thief. "For god's sake." you grumbled, putting the pistol down and turning the lights on. You were in your pajamas, messy hair and still glasses on from working for hours. "What the hell are you doing by breaking into my place?"

She responds to your question with a dismissive shrug. "I need a place to crash, darling."

"Oh, fuck off." you spat, quickly walking towards the desk to put the gun into the drawer again. Pepper woke up with a hiss, just then realizing a intruder was inside. He bristled. "Why would I? You got yourself in trouble, don't you?"

"Technically not trouble. At least, not yet." she glances down at the hissing ball of fur on the floor, and scowls. "You got a damn cat. Of course you do."

She averts your gaze, shifting awkwardly. "I need a place to crash. at least for the night. My place from... before ain't exactly available to me right now."

You can't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, holding your hands akimbo. "I can't afford to have tenants, you know? Especially not the troublesome ones."

"I ain't a tenant, I'm just asking for a sofa to sleep on for one night. It's not a big deal." insists Vi, her tone softening, just like her eyes. Gosh, no, not that look.

When it comes to Vi, you resistance diminished. It was the years of friendship perhaps, or the fact that this ex-convict with deep eyes and attractive bearing softened something inside you, but to tell her 'no' has been always difficult. Even now.

"Just for tonight?" you asked, as Pepper descended from his pedestal to sniff the boots of this new guest. He didn't liked what he smelled.

"Yeah, just for tonight." she hesitates for a moment, before a small smirk spreads across her face. "Unless you have a queen-size bed that I could fit in instead."

"You'd wish." you grunted.

While you were looking for a blanket for this unplanned guest, Vi studied the room she was in. Apart from the academic chaos that surrounded the desk, the rest of the room was tidy and harmonious. In front of the plum-colored sofa, there was a coffee table, on it a couple of books and a candle, along with what Vi soon recognized as a stash. The candle catches her attention for a moment, and her gaze flicks to the small pipe sitting on the coffee table. Interesting. definitely not the doll I remember.

Behind her, a large shelf stood, next to a series of windows that allowed the moon to sneak in, in addition to Pepper's pedestal, fluffy and scratched. The room was composed of green, purple and orange tones, the string of lights hanging from the ceiling gave it a cozy and calm air.

"Here." you said, handing Vi the blanket.

"Thanks." she mumbles.

"Stay away from my stuff, you hear me? And the booze as well, you drunkie."

A small scoff escaped her lips once you closed the door, and she shifts under the blanket, getting comfortable. She takes a moment, before her gaze drifts over towards Pepper.

"Watcha glaring at, ya little shit." She mutters, the corner of her mouth curving up again.

Vi didn't want to abuse your trust, but she couldn't help but inspect the privacy of your office the next morning. Her desk was really a source of curiosity for her, with that amount of trinkets, sheets, books and notes. The carnivorous plant next to them seemed to be watching her, as if she wanted to bite her finger off if Vi dared to sniff through the drawers. But she was an ex-convict and that was a fucking plant.

Inside the drawers were spread documents and bills, you earned quite well for translation, and many orders came from the science district in Piltover, or failing that, from the shimmer factories in Zaun. You made no distinctions, you just worked. This could not help but annoy Vi a little, working for drug producers was certainly not ethical, but a woman like her had no right to talk about ethics either.

Pepper's hiss took her out of her thoughts, the gray cat looked at her with the disdain and suspicion of a human. As if he knew of her past mistakes, of the fact that she turned to crime from a young age, that she was unable to protect Powder when she needed it most, that as soon as she got out of prison her life seemed to point to repeating the same pattern of crime she had grown up with. But Vi had to be wiser this time, play her cards right, break a cycle she was too accustomed to. She let out a sigh, grabbing her jacket before she left the apartment through the window.

Vi was a silent visitor during the nights, she preferred not to bother you since she knew that her ability to stay on the couch depended on the owner's mood, but you also didn't admit that you were starting to get used to and even wish for the presence of the pink-haired woman at home. First there were brief conversations under the cover of night, then a shared cigarette and an improvised dinner, then it was talking about aspirations and fears. Suddenly Vi felt as close as when you were both fifteen. But mischief no longer appeared as the main act of your interactions, but something else that certainly felt different, an unknown spark that was missing before and that made Vi so pleasant to look at.

Days went by, she came brusied and exhausted from her fights to just crash on the sofa and sleep her pain away. It's been two months with such dynamic and you accepted it.

Vi shifted on the couch, an unusual weight on her stomach saying good morning to her and soon, with sunlight filtering through the curtains, Pepper let out a feline complaint. The cat rested on Vi, naturally comfortable after so many visits from her. Sitting up, Vi studied the room and was surprised to see a lump lying on the desk in front of the couch, you had been up late working again.

“She’s going to work herself to death at this point.” Vi muttered, carefully pushing Pepper off her lap and heading to the desk. Vi knew about the constant commissions that rained down in a never-ending stream of work, but she’d also seen you falling asleep during the day, forgetting to eat, and the dark furrow under your eyes worsening. The woman sighed, gently pushing you off the surface to lift you up with ease, carrying you to your room. You mumbled something along the way, ineligible but akin to a complaint that did nothing but amuse Vi.

As your back hit the soft surface of the bed, your hands sought out Vi’s, pulling her along with you. The woman was initially taken aback by this sudden display of affection, you weren’t one to hug or seek contact, but you looked sick and tired and she couldn’t say no to a person in that condition. She snuggled up to you, running a calloused but gentle hand up your arm, burying her fingers in the strands of your hair. "You really ain't taking care of yourself, cupcake." mumbles Vi, cupping your cheek as her thumb gently stroked your nose.

And at the sight of you, your haggard face against the mattress, the sun streaming through the window and outlining your huddled figure, Vi found a new purpose, someone to protect. And as soon as you fell asleep, she got up, put on her jacket and headed to the only place she knew for sure would allow her to make some quick money.

“Black?” you asked, only a month later, holding the small bottle of black dye as Vi wet her hair in the sink. If Vi understood anything about street fighting, it was that a character was the best way to get the public’s attention, the attention turning into bets and the bets into money. For several weeks now, Violet had been arriving at the apartment late at night, bruised, exhausted and with a small bag of coins in her pocket. “For you, doll” the woman would murmur, barely taking the time to kick off her boots before landing on the couch and falling asleep. At first you thought it was just another risky business Vi was getting into, but after a couple of weeks you realized that the name “Vi” was whispered among the alleys and the market, and that she carried the title of undefeated for more than five matches in a row. She was a champion, no doubt about it, and the beneifts from her profession meant more support for household expenses. Suddenly Vi had become your partner, and all she asked in return was a good talk and for you to heal her wounds. And certainly you would do so.

A smirk crept over her lips at the sight of the bottle resting in your hands. "Yeah, black. I'm sick of standin' out. The pink's too bright." her eyes flick to you again, a mischievous look in them. "You're gonna help me out, right? I don't wanna make a mess of myself while trying to do it alone."

You looked at the little bottle of dye and then at Vi, knowing that once she gets an idea inside her head, nothing can erase it unless she tries it. You sighed. "Sit down," you said at last, reaching for the plastic gloves and the cup in the cabinet.

It took you a good hour, but together, you both managed to dye her long pink hair a dark, natural black. Vi's face had hardened, her scars and freckles seeming to stand out against her dark hair. It was then that, in the face of a silence that spoke volumes, Vi was the one to dare to say the first word. "Gotta say, doll. You did a good job."

"You look like you fell into a pool of oil." you said, clearly disapproving of the new look. Even Pepper, who stepped into the bathroom, hissed at Vi.

"Ah, so even the goddamn cat's against me now, eh?" she asked, making you let out a chuckle. The dye wasn't the only thing that changed Vi's appearance, she left the striped pants and red jacket at home, getting herself tight jeans, ripped at the knees, leather boots, a jacket of the same material, provided with gold studs and the print of a two-headed wolf on the back and covering her bust, bandages wrapped tightly. She looked almost unrecognizable, intimidating. Watching her grab her bag and head for the door that night, you couldn't help but feel anxious and think of the worst case scenarios.

You let out a sharp sigh and spoke up. "Vi, wait. You don't have to keep doing this, y'know? Fighting. I'm sure we can find another way."

Vi frowns at your words, her grip on the doorknob tightening.

"Nah, don't start with that." Her eyes narrow slightly, a touch of defensiveness in her voice. "I've always fought, y'know? it's what I'm good at. I don't know anything else."

"I don't want you to get hurt." you insisted, stepping closer.

"I know how to take care of myself, dollface. I'm not some weak little kid anymore." her voice is a little gruff as she tries to deflect the concern.

"You've never been weak..." you mutter, your expression softening as Vi hovered closer. "But you're not invincible neither."

"Yeah, well, who is invincible?" she takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. her eyes dart across your face, searching for something. "You worry about me too much, cupcake."

"You'd like me to not give a shit about you?" you inquire, looking into Vi's eyes.

she scoffed. "Yeah, i'd like to see you try." her eyes flicker across your face again as her thumb briefly brushes over your chin. A moment of silence passes between you, the room feeling almost charged as the two of you stare at each other intently.

Her proximity was electrifying, the smell of hair dye and grease filling your nostrils, her firm yet gentle hand on your chin preventing you from looking away, your field of vision dominated by her, by her light blue eyes, her scar on her upper lip and eyebrow, her straight eyebrows, her messy makeup, her dark lips. "I couldn't stop worrying, Vi. Even if I tried to." you whisper at last.

"Yeah, probably." she mutters, her voice a hoarse whisper. You let out a gasp as Vi leaned in to kiss you, a simple, almost shy kiss, but capable of wreaking such havoc on your insides that your heart began to pound.

She captures your mouth in a gentle kiss, her lips moving against yours slowly, almost tentatively, as if she was testing the waters. When you gasp in response, she deepens the kiss, her hand on your face moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Her other hand moves to rest on your hip, pulling you a little closer as you feel your skin burning with an unexpected thrill. But you find yourself pulling back, a hand against Vi's chest.

"No." you whisper, exasparated, overwhelmed, as Vi's breath brushes your lips.

"No?" she repeats, her voice cracking slightly. Her hand remains tangled in your hair, the other still lingering on your hip, its grip having tightened. "You don't want me to keep going?"

"We shouldn't..." you weakly whisper. It wasn't just the kiss, it was about kissing a woman, and that woman being your lifelong friend. How much were you risking by crossing that line and delving into the taste of her lips and the firmness of her hands? God, you could barely explain it to yourself.

She pauses at your words, her grip on your hip loosening as she processes the conflicted look in your eyes. Her gaze drifts across your face, taking in every detail, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"Y'know..." a brief silence stretches between you, the only sound being the faint hum of the city outside the window. "We can stop... if you want."

Her hand slowly falls from your hip, and she takes a measured breath as she steps back, putting a short distance between the two of you.

You feel her slip away from you, backing away as a look of disappointment settles on her face and the glow of desire fades. You swallow. "I've never kissed a girl." you suddenly confess.

She runs a hand through her dark hair, visibly processing this new information. There's a moment of tense silence before she speaks again, letting out a huff. "I figured out so."

Your eyes widened, watching Vi taking a step back towards the door. "I should get going, there's a match I have to win." she says, leaving the apartment, leaving you confused, almost upset.

During Vi's absence, you couldn't find anything to distract you. As soon as you sat down for a moment to rest after feeding Pepper, tidying the living room, doing the laundry, heating up dinner or taking a shower, the touch of her lips flooded your senses and produced an almost unknown tingle in your belly. The smell of her skin, the gentleness with which her hand settled on your hip and pulled you against her. You couldn't stop replaying the scene, with some uncertainty if you were allowed to think that way about a childhood friend, or a woman. You only found some peace once you fell asleep that night, in the wee hours of the morning you felt an extra weight on the bed with you, an arm around your waist and an "I'm home, cupcake."

The next morning, you found the space next to you empty. You assumed Vi had fallen asleep on the couch, but her boots beside the bed and her jacket on your dresser said otherwise. You got up, hearing Pepper meowing in hunger from the kitchen. You barely noticed the overflowing bag of money on the coffee table or the sound of the shower running, only sleepwalking into the kitchen to feed the hungry cat. With the animal crouched before its bowl, you poured yourself a glass of water and only then turned back to the coffee table. “I told you I had a fight to win,” Vi said from behind you, watching you count the coins and bills in shock. The woman stood by the door, her hair still damp and a not-so-disguisable cut across the bridge of her nose, eyebrow, and cheek. “This is a bunch of money.” you muttered, studying the woman before you.

"Bets paid good last night." she nonchalantly replied, coming closer as she ignored the money. You were the center of her attention then, you and your robe. "I want you to take a break, alright? From your job."

"A break?" you asked, Vi's sincere smile speaking volumes.

"Yeah, for a while." she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, her touch surprisingly gentle. "You work too much."

Your expression softened, noticing the sweet gentleness which Vi treated you, how tender her eyes were at that moment. You couldn't help but lean against her touch. "About last night..."

Her hand cups your chin, her thumb gently grazing over your bottom lip. "You don't regret it, do you?" her voice is hoarse and low. Beneath her confident façade, there’s a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, a subtle fear that you’ll reject her.

"No." despite the inner turmoil, you couldn't regret it, not when you wanted more.

Relief flickers across her face, and that cocky smirk returns to her lips. "Good." her hand cups the side of your face, fingers lightly brushing across your skin, and she leans in to whisper against your lips. "Cause I’m gonna kiss you again."

This time it wasn't a fearful kiss, but deep and ambitious from the first moment, Vi pulling you against her and wrapping her lips around yours with a soft moan that only served to ignite a timid flame of desire that now sought to become a fire. You closed your eyes and dared to hold her cheek, testing a terrain unknown to you but dominated by her. She wanted to be gentle with you, to ease you into this new terrain, but her desire for you overpowered her self-restraint and the kiss quickly turned hungry and greedy.

"Please, just..." she whispered against your lips, a hand sneaking underneath your robe to grasp your waist. "Let's sit down."

Vi landed on the couch, pulling you closer until you were straddling her, taking possession of the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. You moaned against her lips, savoring every sensation as if it were a dish you’d never tried before but surprisingly tasted delightful and addictive. Vi smelled like shampoo, her lips were soft and her hands were calloused but gentle. One of them ran down your spine over your robe, and you stepped back to quickly remove it.

She kissed your neck, running gentle palms up the expanse of your neck and chest, shyly cupping one of your breasts before you pulled away to look at her. She understood the approval in your eyes, bringing her hands behind your thighs to hoist your hips so your chest faced her. You let out a sigh at the wetness of her mouth enveloping your nipple, a gentle, tentative suck that made you clench in a new way. “Fuck…” you moaned, at the same time as their hands massaged your buttocks and dared to slap them.

"I was waiting for you to start swearing." she whispered against your tits, one of her hands running along your spine before you felt the urge for more.

Your ass landed again, this time Vi’s knee between your legs as she kissed you again. You wanted more, you wanted to know what else could be offered by a woman whose experiences had hardened her character but were unable to sour her kisses and moans. Vi still had so much love to offer, and you knew she loved you, every action, every look said it. The way she made you breakfast while you dealt with endless loads of work at your desk said it, her banal conversations that sought to lift your spirits said it, her hands holding you as if you were physically a necessity said it, the bags of money resting on the table said it, and her bruises from brutal fights where her main motivation was you, said it. Vi always loved you, but it was only a matter of time before you realized it was a romantic affection, not a friendly one.

You were exasperated, your hips rocking as Vi pressed her knee into your core, a delicious friction that produced a pleasant, addictive tingle, your wetness speaking for itself. Vi gripped your waist tightly, setting the pace, watching you with attentive eyes and parted lips. You found yourself moaning against her lips, kissing her in fits and starts before you had to pull back for more. "You're so pretty." she whispered.

You leaned in for another kiss, before your hands went down to pull Vi's top off. The contrast was clear, Vi standing out for her muscles and roughness, the network of tattoos on her arms and back capturing your attention for a moment before you ran a hand over her chest. Discreet glances spoke, and the moans that indicated something was going (very) right. Vi patted your thigh before you withdrew from her lap, sliding your panties down gently as she placed a trail of kisses from your hip to your knee.

You felt self-conscious, Vi’s gaze seemed to take in every last detail of your body, from the bones of your hips, to your navel, to the pubic hair that covered your crotch. But your insecurity had no place in the eyes of a woman who simply wanted you for being you. “Don’t give me that look, you’re gorgeous.” She smiled, her hand settling between your legs as she probed your wetness. “Shh… just checking.” She whispered, her thumb gently circling your clit. “Does that feel good?”

"Yes..." you moaned, the suggestive wet noises making you shiver. "Really good." you spread your legs wider, giving Vi the consent to continue further.

You lifted one knee onto the couch as a finger gently entered and curled towards the nearest wall of your insides, giving you a sweet tickle. Vi studied your expressions, the way your breathing quickened and your hands rested on her shoulders for support.

"You're so soft..." she murmured, her own breathing labored as she continued to watch your expressions closely, seeking any sign of discomfort. "Tell me if it hurts." her free hand lightly stroked your thigh, a gesture of reassurance while she checked on you constantly, realizing your reaction came from sole pleasure and not pain at all. Soon enough she eased a second finger and a sigh escaped her lips as she felt you clenching around her.

"That's it..." she muttered against your mouth as she leaned in to kiss you, her fingers slowly working in and out of you. Her touch was gentle but firm, as if she was being careful not to hurt you.

Your knees threatened to buckle, the constant motion inside you awakened nerve endings you thought were inert, Vi’s ears searching to pick up your every grunt and moan. Her breathing quickened, before she let out a hiss and pulled her fingers away. A quiet whine escaped your lips and she took a moment to catch her breath. "Sorry... just a sec..."

Vi stood up from the couch, cupping the back of your neck to give you another kiss before gently motioning for you to lie down. "Lay back for me, cupcake." she whispered, finding a way between your legs as she trailed a way of kisses from your chest to your groin. There was a certain urgency to Vi's movements, a desire that made her breathing quicken and her fingers squeeze the flesh of your thighs as she parted them, skipping the main course in favor of running her tongue along the inside of your thighs, placing brief kisses and bites that allowed the blood to flow to your core, awakening your muscles, making you desperate for relief.

"Please."

"Shh, I've got you." she whispered against your skin, her voice a low and sultry rumble, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. "Patience."

You leaned your head back, eyes closing at the wet feel of her tongue as it ran up and down your core. She kept one hand firmly on your hip, the other on your thigh as she kept it apart. You moaned, looking down into a pair of lustful, delighted eyes, her mouth covering your folds, sucking and alternating with the tip of her tongue. Watching you, studying your pleasure, relishing on your sweet whimpers. “Fuck.” You moaned, your hips bucking slightly in search of more contact.

Vi's tongue worked you slowly and deliberately, mapping every inch of your core with a mixture of delicacy and desire. She released your hip and brought her hand up to your chest, her fingers finding your nipple and giving it a firm pinch. "That's it, just feel it..."

Her hand kneaded your breast as her tongue circled your clit, unashamed to make wet, suggestive sounds, to moan against your folds and to stop and look at you from time to time. She smiled, you looked splendid, needy but at the same time pleased, your cheeks slightly rosy, your lips parted, letting out moans and light gasps.

"Breathe, cupcake. I wouldn't want you to hyperventilate," she said mischievously, sticking her tongue out to deliver a long lick along the length of your core.

"Easy for you to say..." you panted, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was spinning, your body aching and desperate. But Vi had something else in mind, a way to drive you to the edge.

“Take a breath.” she whispered, pulling her mouth from between your legs to settle on her knees. “Look at me.” Vi caressed your thighs and moistened her ring and middle fingers with her mouth as you forced yourself to inhale and not exhale gasps of anticipation. Suddenly you felt her hand cup your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. You rested on your forearms behind your back as she inserted both of your fingers, twisting them in a specific motion that managed to draw a muffled whimper from you. It was sparkling, sweet, precise, and in the perfect spot. "Goddamn..." you whined.

"I know." Vi chuckled, kissing you again as the throes of an orgasm built in your lower belly and made your legs tense. "I know, pretty."

You reached a point where your thoughts were cut off, each and every one of them about Vi, her lips against yours, her fingers inside, curling and keeping a steady rhythm that did nothing but lead you down the right path to orgasm. You moaned into her mouth, pulling away to breathe once an electric wave shook every fiber of your body and your legs locked in an involuntary spasm. Vi rested her forehead against your chest, placing soft kisses as your arms cradled her head, yearning to be close to the person who was able to make you come so hard. Vi smiled, studying the way the pleasure settled into your muscles and your arms slackened.

"Good, babe, good..." she whispered, taking a look of your teary eyes before you pulled her to kiss her deeply.

You stared at the ceiling, the sun streaming through the window as your hands ran through Vi’s thick hair. You missed the pink, the dull black hardened her face too much. The boxer sighed, also processing the fact that she had just had sex with you and it had been wonderful from start to finish. This peace was new, it wasn’t temporary or fragile, it was latent, substantial, tangible. It was as if Vi had spent twenty-three years of her life searching for the calm that only lying on your chest gave her, and she couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy and satisfied. This is what life is about, not just surviving, but breaking down defenses and forgetting for a moment about being the strong one. You kissed her crown, Pepper climbed on the sofa and curled up between your feet and Vi's, purring calmly, like a lullaby.

"Looks like Pepper has finally accepted you." you whispered, making Vi lift her face.

"It was damn time. Just like her mom, stubborn as hell." she agreed, looking at the cat briefly before she nuzzled against your chest again. "He better get used to it, cause I ain't leaving your side anytime soon."

[gay-dorito-dust]

( ´∀`) I am possibly missing where it says your requests are open or not. I apologize if it is.

If it interests you (your batfam posts bring me joy) how would the boys Jay, Dick, Damian (whoever else) would react to only being able to tell the truth for a day? Like they confess all the things they like about their crush, compliment their family, admit to disliking a dish Alfred made (GASP <(｀^´)> ).

Thank youuuuu~

Jason wore his heart on his sleeve, he lets anyone knows what’s on his mind with zero filter, so him being forced to be truthful was no different to how Jason actually was on a day to day basis.

So at first he doesn’t think anything was out of the ordinary until you asked him a question one day regarding your love life;

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to find anyone here Jay, I mean what do I have to do to find somebody.’

‘You don’t have to do anything because everyone else is the problem, not you.’ Jason found himself answering before his mind could find an appropriate response without crossing the boundary of your friendship. ‘They obviously don’t see perfection when they see it because they weren’t looking at you and I find that insulting because who wouldn’t look into your eyes and see forever within them?.’ He finishes and was quick to cover his mouth with his hand, worried that he might’ve said too much for you.

‘And do you see forever in my eyes jay birdie?’ You asked softly, leaning towards him.

Jason drops his hand from his mouth. ‘Hell yeah I do, amongst many other things because you’re worth every heartbreak I’ve ever had in the past because being with you would be my life’s greatest dream come true.’

The next time Jason spoke truthfully was when Dick came to visit and it was after a long, long night of patrol and sleep was at the forefront of his mind, causing it to fog as he let it slip on what he truly thought of Dick.

‘You’re my brother, we may not be related by blood but no one has stood in my corner and was so prepared to be in the wrong then you Richard, and for that I thank you. You really are the best of us.’

Needless to say when he found out that Dick had the whole thing recorded, he wanted to strangle the fucker and make his death look like an accident. Sibling things.

Now, Jason -much like any other- loved Alfred’s food and would never raise an issue over it as he’d pretty much eat anything with his bottomless stomach. So even if he didn’t like one of Alfred’s recipes more self then others, he would say it in the most politest way possible. He loved that kindhearted man too much to ever say anything in regards of the food he’s made him since he was a young lad.

Dick would find peoples expressions to him being honest and truthful funny, but at the same time would be somewhat relieved with this turn out, as he wouldn’t have to force himself to be truthful just to get people to stop asking whether he was alright or not.

He knew he wasn’t always open and honest with his innermost thoughts and feelings at the best and worst of times, knowing all too well of how that would cause lead to the occasional argument of two down the line for himself, but he was never really given the space to figure it out himself on his own time.

So when he found himself speaking the truth to just about anyone, it was as though his heart was exposed for all to see it beating and all. It was as though all of his innermost thoughts regarding everyone in his life was being broadcasted to anyone and everyone with ears and the ability to hear it.

‘You’re so good with Hayley you know.’ Dick blurted once when you were playing with Hayley, stoping as soon as you heard him say this, allowing for Hayley to snatch the toy from your limp hand and lie down elsewhere to amuse herself with the squeaks that the toy would make every time she bite down on it.

‘What?’ You asked.

‘I mean it, you’re really good with Hayley and you’ve been nothing but an amazing person with a pretty smile and addicting laugh.’ Dick adds as he held his head in his hands as he looked at you with a soft look upon his face. Dick wasn’t still that bothered that you knew how he felt, it was bound to come out sooner or later and would take it in stride, even if he didn’t have control over what had just came out of his mouth just now.

The next time Dick finds himself being truthful was when he visited Jason after a long night of patrol and in the midst of a silent period Dick then said;

‘You’re amazing Jason. Bruce doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he never did when it came to us Robins, using one of us as a frame of reference for everyone else isn’t fair but you are my friend, my brother and I am so proud of you. You are not a failure, you’re anything but one.’ Jason sat silent the entire time and after Dick had finished he made a noise from the back of his throat, a small smile gracing his face as he looked out over the streets of Gotham, reaching out to pat Dick on the shoulder and said. ‘Thanks man.’

Dick always cared deeply for Jason, seeing him as his little brother and would gladly stand in his corner no matter what, even if he was wrong because that was what older siblings did. Dick never shied away from how deeply he felt agonising pain when he though he had lost his little brother and confronted Bruce about the entire thing, enraged and grieving simultaneously. Now whenever he caught wind of what Jason was doing as red hood, he can’t help but smile knowing his brother was doing just fine, but would always make it known that he was just a phone call away.

Dick knew Alfred wasn’t going to bite his head off for saying that he didn’t like something but would instead ask how he could better it for his taste. So even if Dick did say anything about one of Alfred’s recipe, he knows Alfred would be more than understanding. However it was an unspoken rule amongst him and his siblings that they’d eat anything and everything Alfred made them without a single complaint unless it was necessary.

They all love that man too much to ever say anything negative about his cooking.

Damian would hate being forced to speak nothing but the truth.

He’d really hate it as being blunt and opinionated was how he always was and so being open and honest wasn’t his forte and it felt wrong in a sense due to it feeling as though he was put in a position of vulnerability.

He hates it even more when he finds himself confessing to all the things that he liked and or found remotely interesting about you whenever you were near, it felt as though someone was pupating him to say these things when deep down he knew they were how he genuinely felt but was too deep in denial to admit this to himself.

‘How do I look?’ You innocently asked.

‘Breathtaking like you always do so seamlessly.’ Damian replied without hesitation before looking up from his sketchbook once realisation hit him, only to see that you were already looking at him with wide eyes.

‘You mean that?’ You said, wanting to know whether or not you heard him properly.

‘Of course.’ Damian said and when he felt his mouth open, he tried to close it but it seemed as though his body had a mind of his own as he found himself continuing to speak. ‘On many occasions have I spent thinking you were naturally breathtaking and have thought so for many more on top of that to the point you are my one sole muse.’ He finished and it wasn’t long before you were planning your first date together.

Damian knew this wouldn’t be the first time he was going to be forced to speak the truth and the second time came in him actually complimenting Tim on his smarts and combat prowess, something that he’d rather drink pure poison before ever admitting out of pride.

‘Tt. Don’t sell yourself short Drake, you’re a competent Robin and an exceptional detective.’ He’d say when it was just him and Tim in the Batcave and immediately regrets it and makes him swear to secrecy, obviously this doesn’t last long after the period of speaking truthfully wears off and Damian goes back to being his blunt, straightforward, unapologetic self.

Damian loves Alfred’s cooking, but all of his cooking weren’t Damian’s favourite and while he wouldn’t hesitate to tell others how he felt, he didn’t feel the same when it came to Alfred’s cooking despite the man being nothing but kind and open minded.

So if he ever were to speak about his least favourite food Alfred had ever made and even when Alfred was more then accepting of his opinion, Damian would try to help Alfred however he could in return for his comments about his cooking. Alfred was probably one person he’d never want to hurt with his words.