#They weren’t wrong about the first part.

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Ironically, after having obsessively listened to the entire saga on repeat last night, my favorite song was I Can’t Help But Wonder. It was my least favorite on my first listen through, but the more I listened to it and absorbed all the meanings and implications? I just. Loved it so much more 😭

There’s Odysseus finally meeting his son for essentially the first time (yes he held him as an infant, but he doesn’t know him as a person), there’s the fact that he spent twenty years wishing he could know his son. And then there’s Telemachus on the other side of the conversation who’s been dreaming of knowing his dad for twenty years and is worried his dad won’t love him?? Devastating. Imagine desperately loving and wanting to meet your child for twenty years and being told they worry you won’t love them??

AND THE LINE ABOUT ODYSSEUS TELLING HIS INFANT SON HE WOULD CAPTURE THE WIND AND SKY FOR HIM?? Guys. Odysseus literally captured the wind and sky to get home to his son and wife.

And then we have the reunion with Athena 😭😭 They don’t even talk about anything that happened?? I just imagine this scene of Odysseus saying, “Show yourself. I know you’re watching me,” just like he did when they first met, and neither of them say a thing about their argument, nothing about Athena fighting for him and saving him, nothing about everything that happened between the last ten years.

And without saying any of that, Athena goes straight into a roundabout way of saying, “You were right, I was wrong, and I led you astray.” She said, “I’m sorry,” without saying it. And there’s a beat of silence. Odysseus sighs. And essentially tells her, “No, you weren’t wrong. And I wasn’t wrong either. That world could exist somewhere far away, but it doesn’t exist here. I’m too old and tired to ever find it though, so you’ll have to make it exist someday for both of us.”

He forgives her in un-said words. It’s an absolution of the wrong Athena feels she’s committed. A goddess apologized to him, and Odysseus absolved her of her sins. Just. AHHHHHHHHHHH.

And then they part ways 😭😭😭 and there’s a tone in their voices that says it’s really their final goodbye this time. And they didn’t even say goodbye.

[kashedelic]

A HAT OF HEARTH - trafalgar d. law x f!reader

SUMMARY: Sometimes if you look closer (to a certain hat), you’ll find that Law loves in ways you didn’t expect.

NOTES: law x reader, second pov, established relationship, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, some possessiveness if you squint, law being lovey dovey, i just need law fluff tbh.

wc: 900

a/n: this is the first fic im uploading and I can’t say that i’m disappointed. currently working on some more fics and i’m hoping to get those out soon, but I cant exactly say when because i NEED those ones to be a little bit more detailed than a silly little drabble like this. and yes, those include the reqs! anyways, I need a law in my life frl.

Be sure to like, reblog, or even follow! Your support means everything to me and helps more people to find this story! Thank you for reading!

The hat was an emblem that Trafalgar D. Law, the Surgeon of Death, was capable of loving. Sure, the man was never too forward with how he showed love, but who said love had to be overt? Could it not manifest in quieter forms? What was wrong with loving in silence? Was it such a sin to care, to praise, to cherish quietly before daring to be bold? “We’re headed into a colder climate, wear this.” The clipped, brusque command might make anyone else think he was chastising a petulant child or begrudgingly tending to a nuisance. Yet, with the way his eyes flickered over your face for a moment longer than necessary, and the subtle brush of his fingers against the side of your head, the truth was far from that assumption.

Law was a doctor, after all - one fully capable of nursing you back to good health, but just the mere thought of seeing you feverish, voice weak and body frail, made his chest tighten with unease.

Even if your falling ill meant more one-on-one time together, he’d never risk it. He would rather see you well than selfishly enjoy your dependance on him. However, in the scenario that sickness did strike, Law would be readily beside you, caring for you every step of the way.

Law cared.

“Take care of it for me, will ya?” He hastily flopped the hat on your head, slightly askew, its brim tilted awkwardly. Your fingers instinctively reached up to adjust it, bewilderment etched into your features. Law, who rarely ever parted with his signature hat, had entrusted it to you. There was a small pause, a moment of lingerment, before he adjusted his grip on Kikoku and dashed back into the fray.

You watched as the blade caught and reflected light, clashing against a formidable enemy. The hat sat heavy on your head, a reminder of its significance. You didn’t know too much about the hat’s origin, but you know one thing: Law didn’t part with it lightly. 

The thought of joining the battle crossed your mind - you were perfectly capable to - but something about the weight of the hat felt grounding, as though it was urging you to stay. Something in your gut told you that it wasn’t just a token of trust; it was a silent request to hold down the Polar Tang, to handle any threats to the ship. In that moment, you weren’t merely entrusted with just the hat, but you were entrusted with Law’s entire livelihood. That alone made it more symbolic. It was a quiet testament to how Law trusts.

“Need to cover yourself more,” he muttered, tugging the brim down until it shaded your face. It was definitely larger on your head than on his and if his expression hadn’t been so grumpy, you would have joked about his supposedly “mega-sized head.” The hat swallowed you whole, but he would rather it that way. In fact, if it were really up to him, it would come with a veil to shield you from every prying eye. 

Law didn’t care - he wanted to protect. Law often thought the world didn’t deserve you. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he deserved you. In his eyes, your smile put the sun to shame, and all your curves and edges made him think that there’s another place that he wants - no, needs - to explore. Though again, he won’t admit that to you and he reluctantly agreed with himself to put those thoughts aside and instead focused on the desire to shield you.

He knew you were pretty, too pretty for his liking - at least when it came to the crooked world around him. The thought of anyone else noticing, of anyone else having thoughts about you, grated on his nerves. He hated the way men stared when you dressed up, hated the way his chest tightened and his breath caught when you twirled in new clothes, showing them off to Bepo. “They've got beady little bird-brain eyes,” he’d grumble under his breath, his hand tightening around Kikoku’s hilt whenever anyone started a second too long. Still, even as he kept his guard up, the hat stayed on your head. A silent declaration, a mark of who you belonged to. 

Law protected.

“Didn’t know I got us a clown on the Tang,” he chuckled, placing the hat on your head once again - this time even more lopsided and deliberately so. He turned away, and leaned his back against the ship’s railing, one leg crossed over the other. Taut muscles flexed as his elbows lazily rested against the bar, his chest tattoos peaking through the wifebeater he donned. Law lets you humor him as he humors you back by sloppily placing the hat on your face. You scowled at his teasing, but Law snickered at your ruffled appearance, finding you endereaning despite the exaggerated frown on your lips. 

Law humored.

The hat rests carefully in your hands, the fluffy material caressed between your digits. You hadn’t meant to look into the hat so much, but now, as he silently slipped the hat onto your lap  before heading off to shower instead of placing it on a shelf like usual, you couldn’t help but reminisce on all the fond memories associated with the hat.

You noted that this hat would not only bring heat to your head, but to your heart too, because Law loved.

Please don’t repost, translate, or redistribute my work without permission. Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. All rights to One Piece and its characters belong to Eiichiro Oda and respective copyright holders. © kashedelic 2024

[okasuka]

Damian wayne x Y/N

Title: Unspoken Admiration

It was just another mundane day at Gotham Academy. The bell had rung, signaling the start of literature class, and you were busy explaining something to Damian Wayne, your seat partner and—to your constant amusement—the most enigmatic boy in school. You had been going on about the assignment for a good two minutes before realizing something was…off.

“Damian,” you said, pausing to glance over at him. “Are you even listening to me?”

He blinked, startled, as if he hadn’t even realized you were talking. His usual sharp green eyes softened for a split second before reverting to his signature stoic expression. “Of course, I am. Continue.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh really? Then what did I just say?”

He opened his mouth but faltered. The truth was, he hadn’t caught a single word. His gaze had been fixed on the way the light from the classroom window caught the strands of your hair, the way your eyes sparkled when you spoke passionately about even the most boring topics, and the way your lips curved when you tried to make a point.

“Something about…books?” he ventured, trying to sound nonchalant.

You sighed and shook your head, unable to hide a small smile. “Wrong. I was explaining our part of the group project, which you’re clearly not paying attention to.”

“I am paying attention,” Damian countered, crossing his arms.

“No, you’re not. You’ve been staring into space since class started,” you teased, narrowing your eyes. “Or were you too busy admiring the view outside?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his composure faltering. “The view was…adequate.”

You leaned in closer, smirking. “Adequate? Now I know you weren’t listening. What’s up with you today, Wayne? You’re usually the first one to call me out for zoning out.”

“I do no such thing,” Damian replied, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink.

You noticed, of course, and couldn’t resist pressing further. “Oh, you totally do. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

Damian looked away, his jaw tightening. “Perhaps if you focused less on my supposed shortcomings and more on the task at hand, we might make progress.”

“Deflecting now, huh?” you said, leaning back and crossing your arms. “Fine. But if we fail this project because you decided to stare into space—or at whatever it is you were so distracted by—don’t blame me.”

Damian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I assure you, we won’t fail. I’ll ensure our success.”

“How noble of you,” you replied with a grin. “Now, can we finally get back to—”

The loud screech of a chair interrupted you as Damian suddenly stood.

“Wayne? What are you—”

“Meet me after class,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“Because I owe you an explanation,” he said, voice softer this time.

Before you could reply, the teacher cleared their throat at the front of the room. “Mr. Wayne, sit down. Now.”

Damian hesitated for a moment, then obeyed, sitting back down beside you. The rest of the class dragged on in awkward silence, but you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. His usually cool and composed demeanor seemed…off.

As soon as the bell rang, Damian was out of his seat, motioning for you to follow him.

“Alright, Wayne,” you said, catching up to him in the empty hallway. “What’s going on? Why were you acting so weird back there?”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face you. His intense green eyes locked onto yours, making your breath hitch.

“I wasn’t staring into space,” he said, his voice low but steady.

“Then what were you—”

“I was staring at you,” he admitted, cutting you off.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Damian said, his tone softening. “You were…talking about the project, and I couldn’t focus because…I find you distracting.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. “Distracting?”

“Yes. It’s irritating, really,” he muttered, his cheeks flushed again.

“Irritating,” you echoed, a small laugh escaping you. “Well, that’s flattering.”

“I’m being serious,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m not used to this—this distraction. You make it hard to focus, and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

You stared at him, your heart racing. “Damian Wayne, are you…trying to tell me you like me?”

He hesitated for only a moment before nodding, his confidence returning. “Yes. I like you. Is that so surprising?”

You blinked, trying to process his sudden confession. “A little, yeah. You don’t exactly wear your heart on your sleeve.”

“Perhaps not,” he admitted, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “But for you, I might make an exception.”

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “Well, I guess I can forgive you for zoning out…this time.”

He smirked. “Good. Because I have no intention of failing that project—or letting you down.”

“Then let’s start by focusing on it together,” you teased.

“Agreed,” he said, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “But perhaps we could…discuss this further over dinner sometime?”

Your smile widened. “Is that your way of asking me out, Wayne?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Then my answer is yes,” you replied, feeling a rush of excitement.

For once, Damian didn’t have a comeback. He just smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made your heart flutter.

And for the rest of the day, he didn’t zone out once. Well, almost.

After school, you waited by the front gates as Damian emerged, his blazer neatly buttoned as always, his usual cool composure firmly in place. You noticed, though, the faint smile tugging at his lips as he approached you.

“So, where exactly are we going?” you asked, falling into step beside him.

Damian adjusted his bag on his shoulder and glanced at you briefly. “You’ll see.”

“Cryptic as ever, Wayne,” you teased.

“It’s not cryptic,” he countered, his lips twitching slightly. “It’s a surprise.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Damian Wayne and surprises didn’t exactly go hand-in-hand.

Fifteen minutes later, you stood in front of a small, cozy-looking comic book shop tucked away in a quiet corner of the city.

Your jaw dropped. “Wait—this is where you brought me?”

“Yes,” Damian replied simply, pushing the door open and holding it for you.

You stepped inside, your heart skipping with excitement. The smell of old comics, fresh ink, and slightly dusty shelves filled the air, and you immediately spotted rows of your favorite series.

“How did you even know I love this place?” you asked, glancing back at him.

Damian shrugged, his tone casual but his expression softer than usual. “You mentioned it once. Something about finding rare issues of Kick-Ass and Invincible here.”

“You remembered that?” you asked, surprised.

“Of course,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Within moments, you were lost in the aisles, pulling out various issues and geeking out about your favorite characters.

“Oh my gosh, Damian, look!” you said, holding up a pristine copy of Kick-Ass #1. “This is the original issue! I’ve been looking for this forever!”

Damian watched you with a small, amused smile as you practically hugged the comic.

“And Invincible!” you continued, grabbing another issue. “This is one of the best series ever written. I mean, the depth of Mark’s character arc? Chef’s kiss.”

He chuckled, leaning against a nearby shelf. “You’re very passionate about this.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you said, mock-pouting.

“Not at all,” he replied, his voice unusually soft. “It’s…refreshing.”

You paused, your cheeks warming as you caught the way he was looking at you—like you were the most fascinating thing in the room.

“You’re not bad at this, you know,” you said, trying to ease the sudden fluttering in your chest.

“Bad at what?”

“At making a girl feel special,” you admitted, glancing down at the comics in your hands.

He smirked, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t aware I needed practice.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, Mr. Perfect, what about you? What’s your favorite comic?”

“The Demon’s Head Chronicles,” he said without hesitation.

“Wait, that’s not a real series,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“No, it’s not,” he admitted, a sly grin spreading across his face. “But it’s an excellent name, don’t you think?”

You burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, you got me there. But seriously, you need to read Invincible. I swear, you’ll love it.”

“Perhaps I’ll give it a chance,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “If only to understand your endless enthusiasm.”

“Endless, huh?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow. “That’s a bold statement for someone who just spent an entire literature class zoning out.”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Perhaps I was too distracted by something far more captivating.”

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t help smiling. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he said, his smirk softening into a genuine smile.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon browsing the shop, laughing and debating the merits of different series. By the time you left, your hands were full of comics, and your heart was fuller than it had been in a long time.

As you walked side by side under the fading sunlight, you glanced up at Damian. “Thanks for today. This was…perfect.”

He looked down at you, his gaze warm. “You’re welcome. But the day’s not over yet.”

“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s next, Wayne?”

He smirked. “You’ll see.”

And with that, you knew this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

The sun dipped lower in the sky as Damian led you down a quiet street. The cool evening air brushed against your cheeks, and despite the weight of the comics in your arms, you couldn’t help but feel light.

“So, you’re just going to keep being all mysterious, huh?” you teased, glancing over at him.

He smirked. “Would you prefer I spoil the surprise?”

“Maybe,” you said playfully, nudging him with your shoulder. “I like knowing what I’m walking into.”

“That ruins the fun,” he replied. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Fine, Wayne. Lead the way.”

A few minutes later, you arrived at a quaint little park tucked away from the bustle of the city. It was quiet, save for the occasional chirp of birds and the rustling of leaves. Damian gestured toward a bench under a large oak tree.

“Here?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sit,” he instructed, his tone firm but not unkind.

You obeyed, setting your bag of comics beside you. Damian sat down next to you, pulling something out of his backpack—a small, neatly wrapped package.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it curiously.

“Open it,” he said, his lips curving into the faintest smile.

You carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a hardcover comic book. Your eyes widened as you read the title: Kick-Ass Deluxe Edition.

“Damian…” you breathed, running your fingers over the pristine cover. “This is—how did you even—?”

“I noticed your copy was missing a few pages,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with satisfaction. “I thought you’d appreciate a complete version.”

You stared at him, speechless. It wasn’t just that he’d remembered such a small detail—it was the effort he’d gone through to replace it.

“Damian,” you said again, softer this time. “This is…incredible. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his gaze steady. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Nothing?” you said, laughing lightly. “Do you even realize how much this means to me?”

“I think I have an idea,” he said, his expression softening.

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sounds of the park filling the air. You flipped through the pages of the comic, marveling at its pristine condition.

“This is officially the best day ever,” you said, leaning back against the bench.

“Glad I could contribute to that,” Damian said, his tone light but sincere.

You glanced over at him, your heart swelling. “You know, for someone who pretends to be all broody and unapproachable, you’re actually pretty thoughtful.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t let that get around. I have a reputation to maintain.”

You laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, you realized something: Damian Wayne wasn’t just a classmate or a seat partner. He was someone who paid attention, someone who cared in his own unique way.

And as you sat together, laughing and sharing stories about your favorite comics, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something truly special.

The walk back to your house was filled with light conversation and teasing remarks, the evening settling into a cool, comfortable quiet. As you approached your front door, you glanced at Damian, who was carrying your bag of comics without complaint.

“Okay, so,” you started, unlocking the door, “since you officially made my day awesome, I think it’s only fair I return the favor.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And how do you plan to do that?”

You stepped inside, holding the door open for him. “By letting you experience the ultimate tradition: a scary movie marathon.”

“A marathon?” he repeated, stepping into the cozy warmth of your living room. “Sounds…excessive.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, tossing your bag onto the couch. “It’s fun! Plus, I have snacks. And you can’t say no to snacks.”

He smirked. “I suppose I can tolerate a few hours of mediocre horror for the sake of snacks.”

“Rude,” you said, playfully narrowing your eyes. “But I’ll allow it. Make yourself at home. I’ll grab the popcorn.”

Not long after, the two of you were settled on the couch, a giant bowl of popcorn between you and your TV queued up with one of your favorite horror movies. The lights were dimmed, the atmosphere just right for a night of frights.

“I should warn you,” you said, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “This movie has some intense jump scares.”

Damian arched a brow. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” you replied, smirking.

About halfway through the movie, the suspense was at its peak. You could feel your heart racing as the music built up, the tension in the scene unbearable. And then—BAM! A sudden jump scare exploded on the screen.

You screamed, instinctively grabbing onto Damian’s arm and burying your face against his shoulder.

Damian stiffened immediately, his whole body going rigid as his cheeks turned an uncharacteristic shade of pink. “T-Tt. It’s just a movie,” he said, his voice unsteady.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, pulling back, your face burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” he said, a little too quickly, avoiding your gaze.

You bit your lip, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. He was flustered, no doubt about it, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Okay, tough guy,” you teased, trying to ease the awkwardness. “Let’s see if you’re still this calm during the next scare.”

He smirked, though the faint blush lingered on his cheeks. “I told you—I don’t scare easily.”

The hours ticked by as you made your way through movie after movie. Despite his earlier claims, Damian visibly tensed at a few of the jump scares, though he tried to play it off. You didn’t call him out on it, but you couldn’t hide your amused smile.

Eventually, the popcorn bowl was empty, and the two of you were starting to succumb to exhaustion. You leaned back against the couch, stifling a yawn as the credits rolled on the final movie.

“Alright,” you said sleepily, glancing over at Damian. “That’s it for tonight. You’re free to—”

You stopped mid-sentence, your eyes widening. Damian had fallen asleep, his head tilted slightly forward. Slowly, he shifted in his sleep, leaning against you until his head rested on your lap.

Your breath hitched as you stared down at him, his usually stoic face relaxed in peaceful slumber.

“Of course you’d fall asleep here,” you muttered softly, though you couldn’t help smiling. Carefully, you adjusted yourself so you wouldn’t disturb him, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face.

The warmth of his presence and the quiet of the room made it hard to stay awake. Despite your best efforts, your eyelids grew heavy, and soon enough, you drifted off, a small, contented smile on your face.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, and the sound of birds chirping gently stirred you awake. You blinked groggily, realizing that Damian was still asleep on your lap, his breathing slow and steady.

You smiled to yourself, resisting the urge to laugh at how uncharacteristically vulnerable he looked. As if sensing your gaze, his eyes fluttered open, and he blinked a few times before looking up at you.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you said, your voice still soft with sleep.

His cheeks turned pink as he realized his position, and he quickly sat up, clearing his throat. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you teased, stretching. “You make a pretty good pillow, though.”

He glanced at you, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to stay like that.”

“Didn’t mind,” you said with a shrug. “It was kind of…nice.”

For once, Damian didn’t have a clever comeback. He just looked at you, a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.

“For what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“For this,” he said, gesturing around the room. “For…everything.”

You smiled, your chest swelling with warmth. “Anytime, Wayne.”

And as the two of you shared a quiet moment in the early morning light, you knew that this was the beginning of something even better than your favorite comics—a story of your own.

After a quick breakfast and a lot of playful banter, you and Damian decided to take a walk to stretch your legs and enjoy the crisp morning air. The streets were quieter than usual, with only a few people milling about.

“Did you sleep well on my couch?” you teased as the two of you strolled side by side.

Damian smirked, tucking his hands into his pockets. “It wasn’t the couch that helped. It was the company.”

Your cheeks warmed at the comment, but you managed to laugh it off. “You’re lucky you’re charming, Wayne. Most people don’t get away with falling asleep during movie night.”

“I don’t fall asleep often,” he replied, glancing at you with a softer expression. “But I suppose I felt…comfortable.”

You looked at him, your heart skipping at his honesty. Before you could respond, the sound of clicking cameras and excited chatter drew your attention.

“Is that Damian Wayne?”

A group of people approached, phones out, cameras flashing as they recognized him. The sudden shift in the atmosphere was jarring, the peaceful quiet replaced by the hum of voices and the chaos of attention.

“Damian, over here!”

“Mr. Wayne, can we get a statement?”

“What’s your connection to Bruce Wayne Enterprises?”

Damian’s jaw tightened, his usual calm composure faltering as the crowd swarmed closer.

You, caught off guard, felt yourself being pushed back as more paparazzi closed in. “Hey! Can you—”

“Y/N!” Damian’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding. His eyes darted toward you, panic flickering in them as he realized you were being separated from him.

Before you could call out to him, Damian’s hand shot forward, grabbing your wrist. With surprising force and precision, he pulled you against him, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

“Move,” he growled, his voice low and threatening as he navigated the crowd.

Despite his clear frustration, the paparazzi only pressed closer, their cameras clicking wildly. “Damian, who’s the girl? Is she your girlfriend?”

“Is this your secret relationship?”

Damian’s grip on your waist tightened as he pushed through the throng. Finally, he spotted an opening and quickly guided you into a nearby alley. The two of you ducked into the shadows, away from prying eyes and cameras.

Panting, you leaned against the brick wall, trying to catch your breath. “What…what was that?”

Damian stood in front of you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm himself. His hands were still on your waist, his touch firm but not uncomfortable.

“Idiots,” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. “They have no respect for boundaries.”

You glanced up at him, your pulse still racing—not just from the adrenaline, but from the proximity. “Damian…you okay?”

He looked down at you, his green eyes softening as he realized how close the two of you were. His hands lingered on your waist, and for once, he didn’t pull away.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost tender.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his gaze locked onto yours. The intensity in his eyes made it impossible to look away, and the world around you seemed to fade.

“Damian…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Before you could say anything else, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, almost uncertain kiss. The moment was electric, the chaos of the world outside forgotten as his warmth enveloped you.

You responded instinctively, your hands reaching up to rest on his shoulders as the kiss deepened. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you closer as if afraid to let go.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Wow,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Apologies,” Damian murmured, though his tone didn’t sound regretful.

“For what?” you asked, your smile widening.

“For not doing that sooner,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You laughed lightly, your heart swelling at his rare vulnerability. “I think I can forgive you.”

A faint smirk crossed his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Good. Because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

And with that, the two of you walked out of the alley, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came next—together.

Hand in hand, you and Damian walked out of the alley, the bustle of the city feeling like a distant hum compared to the energy between the two of you. His grip on your hand was firm but not possessive, grounding you after the chaos of the paparazzi.

“Do they always act like that?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“They’re vultures,” Damian said bluntly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “It comes with the name. Unfortunately, it’s not something I can avoid.”

You squeezed his hand gently, offering him a reassuring smile. “Well, at least you handled it like a pro. Minus the whole dragging-me-into-an-alley thing.”

He glanced at you, his mouth twitching into a rare smirk. “Would you have preferred I left you behind?”

“Not a chance,” you said with a laugh. “But seriously, Damian, you didn’t have to get so…protective.”

“Yes, I did,” he replied, his voice soft but firm. “They wouldn’t have stopped. And I—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you being overwhelmed because of me.”

Your heart softened at his honesty, and you tugged on his hand to make him stop. He turned to face you, his green eyes filled with a rare vulnerability.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you said gently. “I’m glad you were there. And…well, I didn’t mind the whole knight-in-shining-armor act.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think I was doing?”

“Maybe,” you teased, grinning. “Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Too late.”

The two of you continued your walk, eventually finding a quieter part of the city where the streets were lined with small cafes and quaint shops. Damian, ever perceptive, noticed the tension in your shoulders beginning to ease.

“I think I owe you something,” he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You looked at him, confused. “Owe me? For what?”

“For letting that mess ruin our morning,” he replied. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Damian, you don’t have to—”

“I insist,” he interrupted, a glint of determination in his eyes. “Pick a place. Anywhere you want.”

You considered for a moment before your eyes landed on a small, cozy-looking coffee shop with outdoor seating. “How about there?”

He followed your gaze and nodded. “Done.”

The two of you sat at a corner table outside, sipping on warm drinks and sharing a plate of pastries. The atmosphere was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos earlier.

“So,” you said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “Do you kiss all your friends in dark alleys, or am I just special?”

Damian nearly choked on his coffee, glaring at you as he set the cup down. “Tt. You’re insufferable.”

“Come on,” you teased, laughing at his reaction. “Admit it—you’re kind of a romantic.”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” he said, though his cheeks betrayed him with a faint blush.

“You literally saved me from a mob and then kissed me,” you pointed out, smirking. “That’s peak romantic hero behavior.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said, leaning back in your chair.

Despite his exasperation, Damian’s lips curved into a small smile. “Fine. But don’t expect me to play the role of ‘romantic hero’ often.”

“No promises,” you replied, grinning.

As the morning stretched into early afternoon, the two of you lingered at the cafe, talking and laughing like there was no one else in the world. For the first time in a long while, Damian seemed completely at ease, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to something softer, more genuine.

And as you sat there, watching him tease and smirk and—yes—blush, you couldn’t help but think that this moment, with Damian Wayne by your side, was your favorite chapter yet.

Title: Unspoken Admiration (Part 6)*

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the streets as you and Damian left the cafe, still caught in the comfortable rhythm of conversation. The buzz of the city seemed distant, as if the world had quieted down just for the two of you.

“Alright,” you said, bumping his shoulder lightly. “What’s next on your agenda, Mr. Wayne? Saving the city? Brooding dramatically on rooftops?”

Damian smirked, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Neither, actually. I thought I might escort you home. Unless, of course, you have other plans.”

You gave him a mock-serious look. “Well, now that you mention it, I was thinking of diving into those new comics you helped me pick out. Care to join?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re inviting me to read comics with you?”

“Obviously,” you said with a grin. “You’re the one who got me that amazing Kick-Ass edition, remember? Seems only fair that we geek out over it together.”

Damian shook his head, though you caught the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Lead the way, then.”

Back at your house, the two of you settled into the living room, surrounded by a small mountain of comics. You handed Damian a copy of Invincible while you flipped through the Kick-Ass deluxe edition he’d gifted you.

“So,” you began, glancing at him. “Do you actually read comics, or was that just a lucky guess with the gift?”

“I’ve read a few,” Damian admitted, leaning back against the couch. “But I prefer action that’s more…real.”

You smirked. “Says the guy who grew up with Batman.”

He gave you a pointed look. “It’s not the same.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased. “But if you’re not a fan, I guess I’ll just have to explain everything to you.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Y/N,” he replied smoothly, flipping open the comic. “I’m a quick learner.”

Hours passed as the two of you read, swapping favorite panels and debating over the characters’ decisions. Damian surprised you with his insights, his attention to detail bringing a new perspective to stories you thought you knew inside and out.

“You know,” you said, resting your chin in your hand, “for someone who doesn’t read comics, you’re suspiciously good at analyzing them.”

“I excel at everything I do,” he replied matter-of-factly, though the glint in his eyes told you he was enjoying your reaction.

“You’re impossible,” you said, laughing.

“And yet, here we are,” he said, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

As the evening wore on, you realized how late it had gotten. The warmth of the house, combined with the weight of the day, was starting to lull you into a comfortable haze. Damian, too, seemed more relaxed than you’d ever seen him.

“Alright,” you said, stifling a yawn. “I think that’s enough comics for one day.”

“Agreed,” Damian said, setting his book aside. “You’re starting to fall asleep on me.”

“Not true,” you argued, though your drooping eyelids betrayed you.

“Come on,” he said, standing and holding out a hand. “I’ll make sure you get to bed.”

You took his hand, letting him help you up. The warmth of his touch sent a small thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, Damian,” you said as the two of you made your way to your room.

He nodded, his usual confidence tempered with a quiet sincerity. “Anytime.”

Later, as you lay in bed, the events of the day played over in your mind. The chaos of the paparazzi, the alleyway kiss, the quiet moments spent reading together—it all felt surreal, like something out of one of your comics.

You glanced toward your window, where the moonlight cast soft shadows across the room. Somewhere out there, Damian was probably making his way home, his thoughts as guarded as ever.

But tonight, you’d seen a different side of him—a side that made your heart ache in the best possible way.

With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes, already looking forward to whatever story the two of you would write next.

Title: Unspoken Admiration (Part 7)*

You sat cross-legged on your bed, staring at Damian as he leaned against the doorframe of your room, arms crossed in that classic stoic-but-somehow-effortlessly-cool pose he seemed to have mastered. He had stayed longer than you thought he would, and though he didn’t say it outright, it was clear he didn’t want to leave just yet.

Maybe it was the warmth of the moment or the lingering rush of adrenaline from the chaotic day, but you found yourself blurting out something you’d never planned to admit.

“I never thought I’d be hanging out with you outside of fighting crime or doing assignments,” you said, your voice tinged with nervous laughter. “I’ve crushed on you wayyy before you ever looked in my direction. I mean…I’m kind of glad Batsy found out my identity.”

Damian’s eyes widened slightly, the rare slip in his composure making you immediately regret being so candid.

“Uh…” You rubbed the back of your neck, looking down at your hands. “Forget I said that. Totally not important.”

“Y/N,” Damian said, his tone firm but not unkind.

You winced, daring to glance up at him. He was watching you with an unreadable expression, his green eyes searching yours for something you weren’t sure you could give.

“You…like me?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if testing the waters.

You huffed out a laugh, feeling your cheeks burn. “Yeah, genius. Kind of obvious now, huh? But, like I said, not important. You can pretend I didn’t say anything—”

“It’s important to me,” he interrupted, his words quiet but filled with conviction.

That made you pause. “Wait…what?”

Damian pushed off the doorframe, walking toward you with a steady, deliberate stride. When he stopped in front of you, his hands found his pockets, a rare sign of nervousness.

“I didn’t know,” he admitted, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before returning to yours. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Yeah, well,” you muttered, trying to play it off, “you’re kind of oblivious for someone who’s supposed to be, you know, a detective.”

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Tt. I’ll admit my focus has been elsewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Okay, Mr. Brooding Hero, point made. Can we move on now before this gets more embarrassing?”

“No,” he said simply, and your breath caught.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

“I mean,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you, “I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen. Not when you’ve just admitted something I’ve been too much of a coward to say myself.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait…what?”

“I’ve admired you for a long time, Y/N,” he said, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “Not just because of your skills in the field, but because of who you are. Your courage, your kindness…your ability to make me feel things I didn’t think I was capable of.”

You stared at him, your heart in your throat. “Damian…”

“I thought I could keep my feelings hidden,” he continued, his gaze locking onto yours. “But hearing you say that…there’s no point in pretending anymore.”

For a moment, you were too stunned to speak. Then, without thinking, you reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together.

“You could’ve just told me, you know,” you said, a small smile breaking through your shock. “Would’ve saved us both a lot of trouble.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Perhaps. But I suppose it worked out in the end.”

“Yeah,” you said, your smile widening. “I guess it did.”

And as the two of you sat there, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the beginning of a new chapter—one you couldn’t wait to write together.

Damian’s phone buzzed just as you were settling into the quiet comfort of the evening. He frowned as he pulled it out of his pocket, his usual sharp focus returning as he read the message.

“What is it?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Father,” Damian replied, his lips thinning. “He’s calling me back to the Batcave. Says it’s urgent.”

You frowned slightly. “Well, I guess that’s the end of the night, huh?”

Damian hesitated, his brows furrowing. “He also said…” He glanced at you, looking almost unsure for a moment. “…that you should come along.”

Your eyes widened. “Me? He wants me in the Batcave?”

He gave a curt nod. “Apparently, he deems you…worthy of the invitation.” His lips quirked into a small smirk. “Or he just wants to make sure I’m not distracted while I train.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “Well, I’ll take what I can get. Lead the way, Wayne.”

The trip to Wayne Manor was quick, though you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves as Damian guided you through the winding halls and down to the hidden entrance of the Batcave.

When the elevator doors slid open, the massive, sprawling cavern came into view. The iconic Batcomputer glowed in the distance, surrounded by a dizzying array of gadgets, vehicles, and training equipment.

“Wow,” you breathed, your eyes wide as you took it all in.

Damian watched you with a faint smile, his arms crossed. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“‘Impressive’ doesn’t even cover it,” you replied, turning to face him. “You really live like this?”

He shrugged, as if the grandeur of the Batcave was no big deal. “It’s home.”

Before you could respond, Bruce’s voice echoed from the far side of the cave.

“Damian. Y/N.”

You turned to see the man himself standing near the training area, his imposing presence impossible to ignore. Dressed in his full Batman gear, he looked every bit the legend you’d always heard about.

“Father,” Damian greeted, his tone formal as he approached.

Bruce nodded, his gaze flickering to you briefly. “Y/N. I thought it might be beneficial for you to train with Damian tonight.”

You blinked in surprise. “Uh, sure. I mean—yeah. Sounds good.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Is this another test?”

Bruce’s expression remained unreadable. “Consider it preparation. You two are partners in the field, after all. You should be able to work together seamlessly.”

Damian’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue. “Very well.”

The training started off straightforward enough. You and Damian sparred in one of the padded areas, working through a series of drills Bruce had assigned.

“You’re leaving your right side open,” Damian noted as he dodged one of your punches.

“Thanks for the tip, Mr. Perfect,” you shot back, smirking.

“Focus,” he replied, his tone sharp but not unkind.

Despite his critiques, you found yourself enjoying the session. Damian was a natural teacher, his instructions precise but not condescending. You could see why Bruce relied on him so heavily in the field.

“You’re improving,” Damian admitted after a particularly close exchange.

“Is that a compliment?” you teased, grinning as you caught your breath.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he replied, though the faint smile on his face betrayed him.

Just as you were starting to feel like you’d found your rhythm, the sound of footsteps echoed through the cave.

“Hey, is the Batcave hosting open training now?”

You turned to see Dick Grayson strolling in, his usual charm radiating off him like sunlight. Dressed in his Nightwing gear, he looked every bit the playful counterbalance to Bruce’s stoicism.

“Grayson,” Damian said, his voice laced with irritation.

“Relax, little D,” Dick said with a grin, sauntering over. “I’m just here to check out the action.” His gaze flicked to you, and he gave you a friendly wink. “Good to see you, Y/N.”

“Uh, hey, Dick,” you replied, smiling awkwardly.

As you turned back to Damian, Dick moved closer, leaning in to whisper something to his younger brother.

“Having fun with your crush?”

Damian’s eyes widened slightly, and before he could respond, Dick nudged him lightly—just enough to throw off his balance as you lunged toward him in the next drill.

“Damian, watch—!”

The next thing you knew, Damian tripped, and the two of you collided in a tangle of limbs, landing on the mat with a loud thud.

Unfortunately, the position you ended up in couldn’t have been worse. You were sprawled on top of him, your face inches from his, your hands braced awkwardly against his chest.

“Uh…” you stammered, your cheeks blazing. “Damian, I—”

“Grayson,” Damian growled, his face an uncharacteristic shade of red.

“Whoops,” Dick said, clearly holding back laughter. “My bad.”

Before you could scramble to your feet, another voice cut through the cave like a knife.

“What is going on here?”

You froze, looking up to see Bruce standing nearby, his expression as stoic as ever but with a definite edge of disapproval.

Damian immediately pushed you off and stood, his usual composure returning in an instant. “It was an accident, Father.”

Bruce’s gaze shifted between the two of you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I see.”

You got to your feet, brushing yourself off as you tried to will your blush away. “Sorry, Mr. Wayne. We were just…uh, sparring.”

“Clearly,” Bruce said, his tone dry.

Dick, meanwhile, was leaning against a nearby pillar, barely containing his laughter. “Man, this is priceless. You two should’ve seen your faces.”

Damian shot him a withering glare. “Leave. Now.”

“Alright, alright,” Dick said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll go. But seriously, you’re welcome for the assist.”

As Dick disappeared into the shadows, Bruce gave a slight shake of his head. “Focus on your training. Both of you.”

“Yes, Father,” Damian said, his tone clipped.

You nodded quickly. “Of course.”

As you and Damian resumed your drills, the tension in the air was palpable. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you, his expression unreadable.

When the session finally ended, Bruce dismissed you with a nod. “Good work tonight. Y/N, you’re making progress.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling a small swell of pride.

As you headed toward the elevator with Damian, the silence between you grew heavier. Finally, as the doors closed, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, that was mortifying,” you said, breaking the silence.

Damian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Grayson is insufferable.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, but admit it—it was kind of funny.”

He shot you a look, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “It was not.”

“Sure, sure,” you said, smirking. “But hey, at least we survived Bruce’s death glare.”

“Barely,” Damian muttered, though his tone was lighter now.

As the elevator doors opened and the cool night air greeted you, you glanced at him, your earlier embarrassment fading.

“Thanks for letting me tag along tonight,” you said. “Even if it ended in disaster.”

He looked at you, his expression softening. “It wasn’t a disaster. And…I didn’t mind having you there.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you smiled. “Well, in that case, maybe we should make it a regular thing.”

He smirked, the usual confidence returning to his gaze. “We’ll see.”

And as the two of you stepped into the night, you couldn’t help but feel that, awkward moments and all, you were exactly where you were meant to be—with Damian Wayne by your side.

The ride back to your place was quieter than you expected, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Damian seemed to be lost in thought, his gaze fixed out the window as the city lights streaked past. You wanted to ask him what was on his mind but decided to give him space.

When the car pulled up in front of your house, Damian stepped out and opened the door for you—a small gesture that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said as you stepped out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

Damian nodded, his usual stoic demeanor intact. But as you turned to unlock the door, his voice stopped you.

“Y/N.”

You glanced back at him, surprised by the hesitance in his tone. “Yeah?”

He shifted slightly, his hands tucked into his pockets. “About what happened earlier…with Grayson.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck. “Oh, uh…we don’t have to talk about that. Seriously, it was no big deal—”

“It was a big deal,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not harsh. “To me, at least.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Damian, I—”

He took a step closer, his green eyes locking onto yours. “I didn’t mean for you to get caught in that kind of situation, especially not in front of my father. But…” He paused, his gaze softening. “I also didn’t mind being close to you.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as his words sank in. “Oh.”

“Grayson’s interference aside,” Damian continued, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, “I’d like to think that moment was…not entirely unpleasant.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your nervousness melting away. “Not entirely unpleasant, huh? That’s probably the closest thing to a compliment I’m getting from you, isn’t it?”

He smirked, his confidence returning. “Don’t get used to it.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the tension from earlier replaced by a quiet warmth. Finally, you broke the silence.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked, your voice softer now. “I mean, we could hang out for a bit. If you’re not in a hurry to get home.”

Damian considered this for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

Inside, the atmosphere was much lighter. You led Damian to the living room, where the two of you collapsed onto the couch.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing the remote. “After all that training, I think we’ve earned a break. Movie night?”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “As long as it’s not another horror film.”

You smirked. “Still scared of jump scares, huh?”

“Tt. I’m not scared,” he retorted, crossing his arms.

“Sure you’re not,” you teased, scrolling through the options. “Alright, how about something classic? Action, adventure, maybe a little comedy?”

“That’s acceptable,” he said, settling into the couch.

As the movie started, you couldn’t help but glance at Damian out of the corner of your eye. He looked more relaxed than usual, the weight of the Wayne legacy temporarily lifted from his shoulders.

“Hey,” you said, nudging him gently. “Thanks for tonight. For, you know, letting me be part of your world.”

He turned to you, his expression softening. “You’ve always been part of my world, Y/N. I just hadn’t realized how important you are to it until now.”

Your breath caught at his words, and for a moment, you forgot about the movie entirely.

“Damian…”

Before you could say anything else, he reached out, taking your hand in his. The gesture was simple, but it spoke volumes.

“Let’s just enjoy this,” he said quietly, his gaze steady.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Okay.”

And as the two of you sat there, the glow of the screen washing over you, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something extraordinary—something worth fighting for, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

[yurinaa-world]

Hi! Could you make an artist reader? Basically a painter who draws his partner or cats, etc?

With the characters Aventurine, Sampo, Moze, Dan Heng (I'm using this with a translator so I don't know if it's spelled correctly...)

2#"𝓓𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Aventurine, Sampo, & Moze x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's an artist

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling mistakes

💫Dan Heng's part is here: 💫

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

“Not bad, not bad at all. You really know what catches my good side.”

It was supposed to be a gift painting of him, your delicate, nimble fingers first sketched it out before picking out colours and finally taking a brush and painting over the canvas sketch with extreme eye for detail.

He always loved to barge in whenever he felt like it, but now it is a very bad moment! He saw it when you were almost finished! Seriously, you wanted to surprise him so badly. You whirl around cheeks already flushed from the intensity of your concentration, now burning hotter with embarrassment. 

"Y-you weren’t supposed to see it yet!" you stammer, instinctively moving to shield the canvas with your arms, though it's far too late. He smirks, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. 

"Oh, come on. You can't blame me for being curious. I mean, you’ve been holed up in here for days, looking all suspicious."

He goes silent for a bit, staring at the painting for a while…

He's sort of left completely speechless by you.

“Wow, what detail. How about I put this up in my office.” he grinned, while you completely protested the idea because you weren’t finished 

“No way! It’s not finished.”

💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He whined and cried till his throat went dry, but even then that wouldn’t stop his extremely annoying cries. All while you listen and skim through your supplies, nit-picking at what you need all while your canvas is stood in front of a Sampo who’s tied to the chair. 

“Dear Sampo just wanted to make some profits, and those paintings have been there for years, I was just doing you a favour!”

You only sigh at his words. You don’t like to sell your painting, especially with a vendor like Sampo of all people. It may have been ancient yet you didn’t want to get rid of it.

the idea that it may be hanging on a wall in some random place, bought by Sampo’s tricks at a higher price, gave you an unpleasant feeling in your mouth. “You are something, you know,” you whispered, taking a palette knife and twirling it around in your fingers. Not for a show of power—even if you’d like Sampo to see it that way—but because it helped your mind stay focused.

At an exaggerated rate, Sampo shrank back while his chair was making a squeaky noise, signifying his discomfort. “I mean, come on, be realistic, let’s think logically about it! I’m only the middleman in the process here, attempting to make your raw talent the new trend!” 

“You’re right, so in turn for your service I decided to give you something to sell as well.” you smile with joy, as you sit down on the chair in front of my canvas, which makes him sweat dearly on what you’re about to do. 

You lean back, tilting your head as if to get a better view of your subject. “You’d make a... striking muse, don’t you think?” Sampo’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Striking? I—I mean, I am a good-looking guy, but—wait a second! What kind of striking are we talking about here?” 

“You're right, someone would like a painting of a guy like you, I wonder in what position though,” you mutter that last part but you know he heard “Your beauty will sell for millions just like you wanted.”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

“Moze.”

One call of his name and he’ll be landing at your feet to see what you need him to do. Appearing behind you, his hands gently landing on your shoulders—still scaring you to death, before whispering “You called” under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear.

Immediately turning around and clasping your hands with his, along with a giant smile on your face. “Moze! Could you be my subject!”

He (easily) caved and became what you needed him to be most, your subject in your painting. He’s so awkward when posing! You had to personally move him around a couple of times since he’s made all of the poses you put him in awkward somehow.

Which leaves you to have your hand on your chin, staring at him with a precise gaze, that is the same as his, yet, yours was made to find beauty in hopeless things.

 “Hah…how should I pose you.”

Taking his one hand in yours while your other hand goes to his hood, you gently pull it down, revealing his slightly messy hair. “You hide so much behind this,” you say softly, smoothing a few strands away from his face. 

“I think… maybe something natural,” you mumble, tilting your head to examine him from another angle. You guide him to sit on the chair near the window, where the soft light filters through the curtains. “Lean back, like this,” you murmur, adjusting his shoulders to relax against the chair. “And look out the window… like you’re lost in thought.”

Moze does as you say, his hands gripping the edge of the chair a little too tightly. You shake your head with a small laugh and pry his fingers loose, placing one hand on his lap and letting the other dangle over the side of the chair. “There. Try to look more relaxed.”

He’s honestly trying the best he can, his shoulders less tense and face less serious—even though that’s basically all he knows to do. “Thank you.” You smile gently at him before pecking him on the lips as a thank you, before finally starting at your sketch.

He can’t forget your pretty smile. He helped you. He wishes he had his hood on now.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[islandofthedollz]

Jimmy infantilizing a f!reader after physically and emotionally abusing her to the point where he's the only one she can rely on

❤︎Jailer ❤︎

⁠❥TW: Abuse, gaslighting, infantilizing, physical abuse, body shaming, Reader is 18

⁠❥ thanks for the request ILY babe :3 Hopefully the tags work and everything! I just really like talking and writing about toxic Jimmy

As you wiped down the counter, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. You were just a few months away from graduating high school and was looking forward to attending your dream college in the fall. You had worked hard to get good grades and had been accepted into a great program.

As you took a break to grab a drink from the back room, you noticed a guy sitting at a table by the window. He was older, probably in his early 30s, with a charming smile and piercing eyes. He caught your eye and nodded in your direction, and you felt a sudden jolt of attraction.

As you returned to the counter, he got up and walked over to you. "Hey, can I get a coffee?" he asked, his voice low and smooth like whiskey.

You smiled and started making his drink. "So, what brings you in here today?" Youasked, trying to make small talk.

"Just needed a break from the usual routine," he replied. "I'm Jimmy. I've never seen you around here before."

"I'm (Y/N)," you said, handing him his coffee. "I work here part-time. I'm a student too." You smiled.

Jimmy's eyes lit up with interest. "No kidding? What are you studying?"

You hesitated, not wanting to give too much away. "Just the usual stuff," you said, trying to brush it off.

But Jimmy was persistent. He started asking her more questions, and You found yourself opening up to him in ways you never had with anyone before. He was charming and witty, and seemed to understand you in a way that no one else ever had.

As the days turned into weeks, Jimmy became a regular at the cafe. He would come in every day, and you would look forward to seeing him. You would talk for hours, and you found yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

As you started dating, Jimmy began to subtly manipulate you. He would make you feel guilty for not spending enough time with him, or for not being affectionate enough. He would criticize your appearance, telling you that you were too fat or too thin, and that you needed to dress more attractively. He would belittle your accomplishments, telling you that you weren’t good enough, and that you needed to try harder.

But as the relationship progressed, you started to notice that Jimmy was becoming more and more controlling. He would get jealous when you talked to other guys, and he would question you about every little thing you did. At first, you brushed it off as mere possessiveness, but as time went on, you started to realize that something was wrong.

One day, Jimmy asked you to drop out of high school and move in with him. "You don't need a degree to be successful," he said. "I can take care of you. You can focus on your passions and interests, and I'll support you."

You were taken aback. You had always dreamed of attending college, and the thought of dropping out of high school was unthinkable. But Jimmy was persuasive, and he made you feel like he was the only person in the world who truly understood you.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt a sense of doubt. Maybe he was right. Maybe you didn't need a degree to be successful. And besides, you are in love with him, and you wanted to make him happy.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll drop out of school and move in with you."

Jimmy's face lit up with a smile, and he pulled you into his arms. "I'll take care of you," he whispered. "I'll always be here for you."

As you looked into his eyes, you felt a sense of trepidation. You had just made a decision that would change your life forever, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for the consequences.

But as you hugged him back. Jimmy had set a trap for you, and you had fallen right into it. You were 18 years old, and you had just given up your education and your future for a guy you barely knew. You were in love with him, but you were also scared. You didn't know what the future held, but you knew that you were in for a wild ride.

As the days turned into weeks, your life became a living nightmare. Jimmy was controlling and manipulative, and he made you feel like you were worthless without him. He would yell at you, belittle you, and make you feel like you were the only person in the world who was stupid enough to fall in love with him.

He made you block your friends' numbers and wouldn't let you talk to your parents. He isolated you from the world, and you felt like you were losing yourself. You were trapped in a toxic relationship, and didn't know how to escape.

But what really took you by surprise was Jimmy's reaction when you brought up job searches for him. He was in between jobs, and you thought it would be a good idea for him to start looking for a new one. But every time you mentioned it, Jimmy would become physically abusive.

"Don't you dare bring that up again," he would say, his eyes flashing with anger. "I'll find a job when I'm good and ready. You just focus on taking care of me."

And with that, he would grab your arm and twist it, or push you against the wall. You would cry and beg him to stop, but Jimmy just wouldn't listen. He was like a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off at any moment. And then, one day, Jimmy's abuse went too far. He beat you so badly that you ended up in the hospital.

Jimmy would often make you feel like a child, talking down to you and making decisions for you. He would say things like "you're not mature enough to make your own decisions" or "you're too naive to understand what's good for you." He would take away your autonomy, making you feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself.

He would make you dress in a certain way, telling you what to wear and how to style your hair. He would control what you ate, what you watched on TV, and what music you listened to. He would even control how you spent your free time, telling you what hobbies to pursue and what activities to avoid.

You felt like you were living in a prison, with Jimmy as your jailer. As the months went by, you became a shadow of your former self. You became depressed, anxious, and felt like you were sufficating. You were trapped, with no way out. You had lost all sense of identity, all sense of self, a mere ghost of the person you used to be.

And then, Jimmy would tell you that he would never leave you. He would say that you were his, and that he would always take care of you. He would make you feel like you were dependent on him, like you couldn't survive without him. And you would believe him, because you had no one else to turn to.

You would try to make him happy, to please him in every way. You would cook his meals, clean his house, and cater to his every whim. You would be his personal servant, his slave. And he would reward you with affection, with attention. He would make you feel like you were loved, like you were worth something.

But it was all a lie. Jimmy didn't love you, and he didn't care about you. He only cared about himself, and what he could get from you.

And you would stay with him, because you had no one else. You had given up on your education, your friends, and your family. You had given up on yourself. You were completely dependent on Jimmy, and you knew it.

As the years went by, you became more and more entrenched in the relationship. You lost all sense of identity, all sense of self. You were just a shadow of your former self, a mere ghost of the person you used to be.

And Jimmy would continue to abuse you, to control you, to manipulate you. He would make you feel like a child, like a servant, like a slave. He would take away your autonomy, your freedom, your dignity. And you would stay with him, because you had no one else.

You were trapped, alone, and broken. You were a prisoner in your own life, with Jimmy as your jailer.

[ray935sworld]

Visiting an old friend

Rosquez, Vale & Sic

25.12 Winter writing

Content information: the following writing includes Vale talking to Sic at his grave (no counter interaction). If this is something you're not comfortable with or that might triggers you, do not read.

I know some people or more hesitant when it comes to these topic. I don't mean any disrespect. I wrote this as part of a coping mechanism.

"Hey buddy, long time no seen" Vale said as he sat down opposite his old friend. "And I am completely aware that this is all my fault. So I apologize"

He smiled and felt the warmth he got in return. The other wasn't angry. He never was. He was just happy he was here now.

"You know, I... Funny story. I actually still thought our little meetings were a secret from Marc. But my dear husband told me to tell you that he says hi"

He remembered just a little bit earlier. "Give me a little bit time" he had whispered at Marc's ear when he kissed him awake. It was the early hours in the morning. 5.30 am. But he couldn't keep sleeping and he didn't want to miss Christmas breakfast with their little ones.

"I promise you I'm back in 2 hours" he kissed him again and saw his husband's calm smile as he nodded. "I know." he whispered as he burried his head back in the cushion. Soon enough their little whirlwinds would wake up and the peace was on the past.

He was just about to leave, already changed and the car keys in the pocket when Marc added "Tell him I said hi, will you? Tell him we miss him."

He felt a sadness pool in his stomach. All this time, every time he had made up a dumb excuse why he had to leave for a few hours weren’t needed. Of course he knew. And he had been respectful about it and didn't ask.

He smiled at him. It had been the perfect response. "I will"

And now he sat opposite him again.

"So... Hi from Marc. They miss you" he said and leaned back. "I miss you too..." he started to feel sad but right now he dint wasn't to be sad.

He quickly changed the subject. "Especially cause you'd have a field day with the way I stress out over the races at the moment" he chuckled.

"Seriously. My dear, sweet husband - Don't get me wrong. I am overjoyed that he's doing better and he's feeling happy on the bikes again. Finally he got that spark back, you know what I mean - and oh, we fuck like rabbits again. The boys already judge me for asking them to babysit that often.

He remembered Luca's and Pecco's looks after asking if they would like some uncles - nieces bonding time after Marc won his first race in years.

"But he's back to riding like - well almost like he used to. I can't imagine he'll be more careful next year. For the record I am not complaining! I am 100% supporting him. It's just - he'll be on a factory Ducati so I feel like I'm going to be gray a lot sooner than I thought"

He was almost as happy as he was concerned about him on a Ducati. But he could finally fight a title and he wouldn't be the one stopping him.

"I just feel sorry for Pecco. Bet he's going to complain to me the whole year. 10€!" He knew the other would accept that bet. He grinned.

"But at least I have an argument against Marc now. Okay, to his credit, he's more... I wouldn't say more careful on track but he's less stupid. Yes, that's it. Our little princess really keep him grounded. You should see him. He comes home and is immediately hugging and cuddling them"

He grinned, remembering how his little girls had tried to stay awake until their papa returned. Just when he had heard the car pull up, he had softly woken them up.

He had let them go first and just after seconds, the bags abandoned in the car, Marc had both his arms full with their little girls. He had kissed and hugged them and kissed them some more.

Vale ended up talking a lot about his little family and their adventures since his last visit. Then he went on about his other children.

"Ah and Franky - you wouldn't believe it. He finally got his shit together and asked Andrea out. Took him only 13 years or so of pinning. I bet that's a new record" he laughed.

"And now Marc is working on getting Cele and Bez together. I promise you, he should have been a dating coach."

He let time pass. The conversation was flowing. He talked about everything he could think off until there was nothing left. He didn't had anything else sitting on his soul.

That might be the worst and best moment of the whole visit. He knew there was nothing left to say. He didn't feel guilty about leaving. On the contrary, he felt lighter, more free. He was happy to see his family and spent Christmas together.

"I guess, it's time" he said, standing up. "Take care, will you? Be kind. Promise me, you're not causing too much of a chaos, amiche. Maybe a little. A little is needed but don't overdue it."

He laughed about his own words. "Do you hear that? I'm really getting old. But anyway..."

He leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. But his lips didn't met skin. He didn't even met the thick curls they used to touch. He felt the cold stone against his lips.

"I miss you, my friend. Really. Terribly. But I'll take my time to meet you again properly. But when I do meet you again and you give me a big hug, I'll have thousand of stories to tell you."

Looking at the stone infront of him for one last time. He knew he would be here again in a week to whish him a happy new year.

"And sent Nicky my greeting too, alright?" he said. "Merry christmas Marco "

He smiled at the stone, imagining it wasn't just his name and the letters and numbers that used to hunt him in his sleep but the man himself standing infront of him before he drove him for Christmas.

Marco Simoncelli

20.01.1987 - 23.10.2011

[ilovedinodino]

player 066

synopsis: Haechan came to earn money from some strange games and didn't expect to see you, his ex.

paring: player!haechan x player!reader

warnings: blood, fights, literally the same thing that happens in the squid game happens here

wc: 5259

Who haven’t seen season 2 don’t read it!

Haechan didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect some childish games to involve death for losing. After the first game, he was horrified and wanted nothing more than to go home, back to his friends and family. He was certain that during the vote, everyone would choose X—but how wrong he was.

Haechan glanced up at the scoreboard, silently praying that the remaining players would come to their senses and choose to leave this wretched place. He wanted to scream.

“Player 012.”

Haechan turned toward the crowd, and his breath caught.

“Y/N?..”

The boy froze in shock, unable to believe his eyes as he watched you stand there, hesitating over which button to press.

Haechan’s mind raced. Why is this so hard for you to decide? Weren’t you terrified after everything you’ve seen? And why the fuck are you here?

*Ding.*

The blue light flashed, and Team O erupted in cheers, celebrating loudly.

You had chosen O.

—

After the vote, they started handing out food. By the way, four people voted after you, and two of them chose O, which meant you weren’t allowed to leave and should to play next game. Haechan was upset and still couldn’t understand what you were doing here. He wanted to find you, but he lost you in the sea of green uniforms.

Grabbing his food, Haechan began walking toward one of the bunks. Then he stopped. You were sitting on one of the beds, quietly eating.

God, you were beautiful. You had always been beautiful, but Haechan hadn’t seen you in five months, and in that moment, he thought you’d become even more radiant.

Without hesitation, he quickly walked over to you.

You were eating peacefully when you suddenly felt someone standing in front of you. Slowly, you lifted your head, ready to say something to the stranger with number 066, but then you saw him.

Lee Haechan.

The same guy you had broken up with and still couldn’t come to terms with. For half a year, you had tried to forget him, but nothing worked. You thought of him every night in your dreams, before falling asleep, and even in the mornings. Constantly. And now, here he was, standing in this strange place, wearing a strange green uniform, right in front of you.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

“Haechan,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What are you doing here?”

You flinched at the question. What were you doing here? You didn’t even know yourself. You had wanted to escape somewhere far away from everything, and this seemed like a perfect solution—earning some money along the way didn’t hurt either.

“I came to win money, just like you. Is that not allowed?” you said, your tone cold.

Haechan’s expression softened, his heart sinking at your distant words. Still, he sat down next to you while you shot him a wary look.

“Do you need money?” he asked gently.

"I need to pay for my studies."

"You could have asked me."

"You?" You laugh. "You’re here because you don’t have money yourself, and you’re telling me I should’ve asked you? Besides, don’t you think it’s strange to ask for money from your ex—someone you haven’t talked to or seen in six months?"

Haechan falls silent. Technically, you were right. But he wasn’t completely broke—he could’ve helped you if you had asked. He was here to earn more money for his dreams, so he wouldn’t have to take out extra loans. And you were also right about the part with the ex, but Haechan didn’t want to dwell on that. It hurt too much.

"Why did you vote to keep playing? Did that old man convince you?"

You smirk and poke at the rice with your spoon.

"I didn’t want to go home, and the prize money was too small."

"20 million won is too small?!" Haechan stares at you in disbelief. "Aren’t you afraid you might die?"

"I’m not," you reply, avoiding his gaze, while he keeps looking at you intently.

"From now on, I’ll stay with you."

"What?" You lift your head in surprise, finally looking him in the eye.

"From this moment on..." Haechan’s eyes lock with yours. "...I’ll be with you," he says, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"I ran away from everyone to end up with you following me around? No, Haechan, I don’t need this." You start to get up, setting your meal aside, but Haechan grabs your wrist and stands with you.

"Let go."

"I’m not letting you go in a place like this. It’s too dangerous."

"I’m not a child, Haechan."

"I don’t care. You can do whatever you want, but I won’t even consider leaving you alone here."

You stare at each other for a long moment, his grip firm yet not forceful. Deep down, you know he won’t back down—not even with a gun to his head. Haechan had always been this stubborn.

Of course, you were just as stubborn, but the truth was, you were glad he was here with you, even if you refused to admit it.

—

After lights out, you were escorted to the next game. You tried to avoid Haechan, but it didn’t work very well. At that moment, as you climbed the stairs, he was right behind you. You hadn’t even noticed when he managed to fall into step behind you.

"Don’t try to run away from me, sweetheart," he leaned in and whispered in your ear.

You ignored him and kept walking.

"I heard that in the next game, you’ll have to carve shapes out of a cookie, so pick the triangle," he added casually.

You stopped and turned to face him.

"Where did you hear that?"

Haechan simply shrugged and gently turned you back around, nudging you to keep moving forward.

It didn’t feel like a game about cookies.

Somehow, you managed to slip away from Haechan and stood at the far end of the room, nearly alone. Like everyone else, you were surveying the space when a female voice suddenly rang out:

"Divide into teams of five."

Damn. This definitely wasn’t about cookies. You looked around, seeing how everyone began forming teams, scrambling to find people.

You spotted a group of men and cautiously approached them.

"Excuse me. I’m on my own—can I join your team?"

The four men gave you a once-over before exchanging looks.

"Listen, we need strong and smart people on our team..."

You didn’t need to hear more to understand their implication. They didn’t want women—they wanted men. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you turned and started searching again.

—

Haechan was losing his mind. He had searched the entire damn hall, and you were nowhere to be found. The thought of you being stuck with some random weaklings or sketchy players made his blood boil. You had to be with him—right now, no, right this second.

"Hey, want to team up with me?"

Haechan turned toward the voice and saw a guy around his age grinning at him.

"I noticed you’re walking around alone. I’m on my own too, so if you don’t mind, we could team up and look for more people together."

The guy’s wide smile seemed genuine, and Haechan figured it wasn’t the worst idea.

"Yeah, sure. But there’s going to be a girl with us. Is that okay with you?"

The guy waved his hand dismissively, his grin unwavering.

"Of course! That’s even better. I’m Hendery, by the way."

He extended his hand, and Haechan shook it firmly.

"Haechan."

"Nice to meet you! So, where’s the girl?"

Haechan’s jaw tightened as he scanned the room again, his frustration bubbling.

"That’s what I’m trying to figure out."

Hendery glanced at the timer and nodded.

"We still have time, so we’ll find her. What does she look like?"

Haechan opened his mouth to reply but suddenly froze. His eyes caught sight of you—standing just behind Hendery. But you weren’t alone. You were with some guy.

Without thinking, Haechan shot up and strode toward you, his sudden movements making Hendery follow in confusion.

"Y/N! Where the hell have you been?!"

You flinched as Haechan grabbed your arm unexpectedly, letting out an exasperated sigh when you realized it was him.

"God, could you be gentler?!"

"Gentler?!" Haechan’s voice dripped with frustration. "Where have you been? Why did you—" He cut himself off abruptly when his gaze locked onto the tall guy standing next to you.

The boy fidgeted under Haechan’s intense stare before mumbling awkwardly, "I’m Sungchan. Nice to meet you." He extended a hand hesitantly, and Haechan shook it reluctantly, his grip firmer than necessary.

"Oh! We only need one more person now, and we’re set!" Hendery exclaimed enthusiastically, his bright demeanor completely at odds with the tense atmosphere.

Haechan, however, wasn’t sharing in the excitement. His sharp eyes darted between you and Sungchan, while you glared back at him with irritation. Sungchan seemed ready to disappear under the pressure of Haechan’s silent judgment.

"I’m with you," a deep voice suddenly cut through the awkwardness.

All four of you turned to see an incredibly tall man with long hair stepping toward the group. His commanding presence left everyone speechless for a moment.

Hendery, however, didn’t miss a beat. "Perfect!" he cheered, practically beaming at the addition.

But Haechan’s attention was still fixed on you and Sungchan, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. This wasn’t how he imagined things would go.

—

Once the announcement was made to assign one person to each of the five games, the team gathered, exchanging uncertain glances.

"I’ll take Jegi. That’s literally the only game I can play," you declared, breaking the silence. The guys turned to look at you, and the tall man with the long hair chuckled, tilting his head.

"Alright, but who’s the strongest here? We’ll need someone for Ddakji."

The group fell silent until Sungchan nervously raised his hand.

"I… I think I can handle it."

Haechan was about to say something when you cut him off, pointing directly at him.

"Haechan will play Gong-gi!"

"What?!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"You’re practically a pro at it! Come on, don’t pretend you’re not." You nudged his shoulder, and he glanced around nervously.

"Really? We need someone skilled for that game," Hendery chimed in with his ever-optimistic grin.

Haechan sighed in defeat, muttering, "Fine, I’ll do it."

"I’ll take Flying Stone," the long-haired man said calmly, crossing his arms.

"Guess that leaves me with Spinning Top," Hendery shrugged, still grinning as if this was all a casual game night.

—

*Bang.*

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room, followed by the horrifying thud of bodies hitting the floor.

You violently, your gaze glued to the bloodied corpses of the first two groups. They hadn’t made it. They hadn’t been fast enough.

Fear surged through you like ice. What if your team wasn’t fast enough? What if you couldn’t hit the shuttlecock five times in Jegi? What if—

"Y/N," Haechan’s soft voice broke through the storm in your mind.

His hands gently landed on your shoulders, steadying you.

"Hey," he whispered, carefully turning you away from the blood-soaked floor. "Don’t look at that. Look at me."

You hesitated but finally met his gaze. He smiled at you, warm and reassuring, his hands still resting on your shoulders as if to anchor you.

"Everything will be fine," he said, his voice soft but firm.

You stood there, frozen, staring at him. Slowly, his calm confidence seeped into you, easing the rigid tension in your body. For a moment, all you could focus on was the safety in his eyes.

—

“Damn, we’re last. That’s sad,” Hendery joked, his tone light despite the tension.

Your team stood still as the staff locked the metal restraints around your ankles, the heavy weight of the game’s stakes settling in. And you were here alone. Only with another team.

The game began.

Sungchan wasted no time. Grabbing the Ddakji square, he struck with precision, flipping the paper on his first try.

"YES!" you all shouted in unison, voices echoing in the room as you sprinted to the next game.

"One, two! One, two!"

The second game flew by in a blur. The tall man threw the stone with ease, landing it perfectly before swiftly striking it back to the start. Another victory. You jumped up and down, cheering wildly as the group moved cautiously to the next station.

The third game was Gong-gi. The group waited as the guard placed the table and handed out the small stones.

Haechan’s hands were trembling. No one seemed to notice, riding the adrenaline high of their earlier wins, but his heart was racing. He sat down, staring at the stones as he picked up the first one.

Focus. Just focus.

He dropped it.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, gathering the stones again.

"Haechan, it’s fine! Don’t rush, we still have time," Hendery said from the side, his encouraging words meant to ease the tension.

But it didn’t help. Haechan’s hands shook even more, and the stones slipped again.

“Come on,” he whispered, frustration bubbling in his chest. He started over, but his nerves betrayed him, the stones scattering across the table once more.

Haechan glanced at the timer, panic surging as he realized how much time he’d wasted. He hadn’t even cleared the round.

“Crap, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I—”

"Donghyuck."

Your voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. He felt your hand gently rest on his shoulder, and he turned to look at you.

His face was drenched in sweat, his expression on the verge of breaking completely.

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead, you reached out and placed your palm softly against his cheek, stroking it with a calmness that seemed out of place in the chaos around you.

“You’ve got this,” you said softly, your voice steady and warm.

Haechan blinked at you, the fear in his eyes slowly giving way to something else—something calmer, more grounded. For the first time since the game started, his hands steadied.

“You’re okay, Hyuck. You’ll get through this. You’ve always done it for me, right?”

Something tugged at his chest when he heard the nickname only you used for him. Feeling the warmth of your hand on his cheek, Haechan steadied his breath.

He started again, his movements faster and more precise this time. One by one, he flipped the stones with skill, catching them all in the end. He slowly raised his fist to show the guard, who silently gave an “O” gesture.

“Success.”

Cheers erupted as you all celebrated, moving on to the next game.

"One, two! One, two!"

—

The last two games were grueling, but somehow, you all managed to finish with just five seconds left on the timer. It was a narrow escape, but an escape nonetheless.

Now, back in the main hall, the atmosphere was somber. No one spoke as the weight of what you’d just been through settled over the group.

Haechan had quietly moved away from the rest of you, sitting by himself in the corner. His head was low, his shoulders slumped.

“Haechan, why are you sitting there?” Hendery asked, his concern evident as he got up and walked over.

The rest of you followed, though you sat a bit farther from him than the others.

“I’m sorry…” Haechan mumbled into his hands, his face buried in his knees. “Because of me… you all almost died… I shouldn’t have—”

Hendery wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a reassuring hug.

“Hey, come on now,” Sungchan chimed in, patting Haechan’s back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. After everything we’ve seen today, who wouldn’t be shaken up? No one could focus in a place like this.”

“This place is insane,” Sungchan added, his voice filled with frustration.

You glanced at him, noticing a cross on his chest. A quick look at the others revealed the same symbol on Hendery and the tall man.

But when your eyes dropped to your own chest, you realized you were the only one with the O.

“It's because of me that we’re still here...”

Everyone’s attention shifts to you as your words hang in the air.

“I voted to continue the game…” You glance down at your hoodie.

“Come on, guys, stop!” The tall, handsome guy says, trying to comfort you. “We all make mistakes. The important thing is that we’re still alive. Besides, you weren’t the only one who voted to continue. So you’re not to blame.”

Haechan, who had raised his head when you began speaking, watches you silently while you focus on your sneakers.

“By the way, my name is Johnny. I’m from Chicago.”

“Chicago? I was there once when I was a kid. Im Hendery!” Hendery says, introducing himself.

“I’m Sungchan!”

“Lee Haechan…” Haechan mutters quietly, and everyone turns their attention to you, waiting for your response.

Noticing the silence, you lift your head and hesitate for a moment. “I... Y/N...”

“Nice to meet everyone!” Johnny says with a cheerful grin.

—

The second voting began. This time, you were certain that you were going to leave. After such a brutal game, you were sure that everyone else would want to leave too. There was no other option. Could they really be this stupid?

*Ding.*

The blue team jumps in joy.

24 – 28.

What the hell?

Soon, the score is tied, and the red team starts to win. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Guys, why are you so boring? Let's all vote for the circle, okay?”

“God, this freak again,” you mutter to yourself after the guy with purple hair votes.

“Yeah, he's definitely strange,” Haechan agrees with you.

Fuck.

The last person went to vote, and the blue team won. They celebrated loudly while you, the red team, sat quietly, frustrated and angry.

"Let's see how they’ll celebrate when they all die," you turn at the harsh, blunt voice of Hendery.

"What?" He glance at you. "I just want to go home, and because of these stupid assholes, I’m back on the edge of death again.” Hendery kicks the floor and heads to the bed.

You all exchange glances, taken aback by this unexpected side of him.

“He can be like this?”

—

After the food was handed out, you left it with Songchan and went to the bathroom. You couldn’t stay there, you had no appetite. How could you think about food after everything you had seen? You walked to the sink, turned on cold water, and washed your face. The bathroom was empty, and you finally felt some peace. But suddenly the door opened, and Haechan stepped in.

"Why are you in the women’s bathroom?" you asked, surprised. Haechan smiled and replied:

"Women’s? This is the men’s bathroom, Y/N." You stepped out and saw that the door did indeed say "men’s bathroom." Haechan grinned and said:

"Didn’t you notice anything strange?" He walked to the sink and started washing his face.

"I didn’t pay attention to anything except the sink..." you ignored the fact that you were still in the men’s bathroom, since no one else was there except Haechan. What difference did it make?

"Are you okay?" Haechan asked as he wiped his face with his shirt. You slowly turned to him.

"I... yeah... ah, fuck, of course I’m not okay! How could I be okay when I’ve seen so many people get killed right in front of me? When my clothes are soaked in their blood? When I was almost killed myself? Who could be okay after all that? Only crazy people, Haechan!" Haechan stood in shock at your loud outburst. You both stood there, looking at each other, until you spoke again:

"Sorry... I just want to go home and live a normal life." You leaned over the sink again, splashing your face with water and wiping it. Haechan stayed silent, then approached you and gently lifted your face.

"Y/N, I understand, don’t apologize. I’m going crazy here too, from this place and these people. You saw how I almost got us killed? I lost my mind completely."

"Don’t say that, you didn’t do anything," you interrupted him.

"You didn’t do anything either, so don’t blame yourself for the first vote. Just calm down. I said I’d always be here for you, and I kept my word, didn’t I?"

You looked at his face for a long moment and quietly said:

"You haven’t been here for me the last five months."

Haechan smiled softly and stroked your face.

"It’s not about that now, Y/N. Let’s not talk about it."

"Why? Because you stopped loving me and left? Now you're pretending like nothing happened?"

"Y/N, it's not like that, and you know it. I never stopped loving you."

"Sunghoon said you didn’t care about me, that you didn’t care about our relationship. He said you found someone else…"

"Do you believe that jerk?"

You flinch at his sharp, cold tone.

"I..."

"You're still listening to him? I told you he's ruining your life. Didn't he make you fight with Karina? Why are you still falling for it?"

"I'm not falling for it..."

"Then shut up and stop talking about him. Everything he tells you is a lie, especially about me and our relationship. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. You know why we broke up, and it wasn’t our fault. It just happened."

You feel hot tears on your cheeks and start to sob. Haechan wipes your tears away and leans in to kiss them.

"Please, don’t cry. We... we’ll fix all of this when we get out of this game..."

You stay quiet, just looking at each other.

"Promise?"

"I promise." Haechan smiles, then slowly leans in to kiss you on the lips. Without thinking, you kiss him back. At first, it’s slow and calm. You place your hands on his neck, pulling him closer, and he moves his hands to your waist, doing the same. He presses you against the sink, and the kiss deepens and quickens. Haechan moves his hands from your waist to your hips. You’re running out of breath and pull away.

"Not here, Haechan…"

Haechan looks at you with dark eyes and slowly nods. He leans back in and kisses you again, but this time more gently.

"Oh my god, guys! You scared me! So this is where you disappeared to!" The door suddenly swings open, and Hendery walks in. You quickly pull away from Haechan and fix yourself, but Haechan seems unfazed that you were caught and quietly laughs at your reaction.

—

Third Game: Mingle!

Huh?

You were standing in a huge hall with carousel horses placed in the center. The host explained the rules while the five of you listened intently. After last night, Haechan stayed even closer to you, almost lying down next to you to protect you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder, protect from who?

The game began.

They spun you around so you nearly fell, but Haechan caught you in time. As you stood there together, a familiar voice echoed:

"Five!"

"We’re five!" Sungchan shouted, and you all ran to the door in a panic.

Everyone was scrambling, rushing to find their groups. You could’ve been left behind, frozen in shock, but Haechan held your hand tightly and pulled you toward the red door with the others.

5… 4…

The five of you quickly squeezed in and shut the door.

3… 2… 1…

Silence.

Standing beside Johnny, you peeked through the peephole to see the remaining players who hadn’t found their groups. Suddenly, you flinched as gunfire erupted. They were being executed one by one. You should’ve been used to this by now, but every time it left you frozen, unable to believe your eyes.

Haechan grabbed your wrist and pulled you close.

"I told you not to look. Look at me, only at me. Stay by my side, okay?"

You nodded quickly.

When the door opened, the smell of blood hit you like a wave. Red puddles spread across the floor.

"If people still want to play after this game, I’ll just shoot myself right here," Hendery muttered, walking toward the carousel.

Song began again.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“3!”

The lights flickered, and the room descended into chaos. People were running again, panicked and screaming.

"Sungchan and I will find another group. You three stick together!" Johnny yelled.

You stood frozen, watching your friends, terrified to let them go. But the two guys grabbed your hands and pulled you toward the yellow door.

You barely managed to squeeze through before the timer ended and the door slammed shut.

You rushed to the door, frantically looking for Sungchan and Johnny, but they were nowhere to be seen. You could only hope they were safe.

When you exited, two tall guys immediately approached you.

"You’re alive!" Hendery exclaimed, hugging them.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“4!”

The five of you looked around again when Haechan suddenly shouted:

«Go as a group of four! I’ll find someone on my own»You stared at him in shock, grabbing his hand.

«Are you crazy? I’m going with you!»

Haechan gently removed your hands and smiled.

«Y/N, please go. There’s no time.»

You shook your head, refusing, but Sungchan pulled you away by the arm. You tried to break free, yelling:

“Haechan, no! You idiot, don’t leave me! You promised to stay with me!”

But Haechan disappeared into the crowd. Sungchan managed to push you into a small room just as the door closed.

“No! Open it! Open the damn door!” you banged on the door, desperately peering through the peephole to find Haechan.

In the darkness, everyone looked alike, and with horror, you noticed someone who resembled Haechan. Right in front of you, they were shot. You stumbled backward, tears streaming down your face, and turned sharply to the others.

“What if it was him?! This is all your fault!”

“Y/N, calm down. He’s a smart guy; he must have found a group” Sungchan tried to reassure you.

“I just saw someone get killed! What if it was him?!”you cried hysterically, your vision blurring. You sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, until Hendery approached and carefully tried to comfort you.

“He’s alive, Y/N. It’s going to be okay,” he said gently.

You were on edge, unable to think clearly. The games had pushed you to the brink, and the fear of losing Haechan consumed you. The pain of him leaving you again mixed with the terror of the moment.

When the door opened, Hendery helped you stand. You rushed out, scanning every door, but there was no sign of the one you were looking for.

“Guys!” a familiar voice called from behind.

You turned sharply and saw Haechan. He stood there with an elderly woman and two men.

“I found these wonderful people, and they saved me...” he began.

Before he could finish, you ran to him, throwing your arms around him so tightly it felt like you feared losing him again.

«Hey, Y/N, I’m here. Everything’s okay.»

«Don’t you dare leave me again,» your voice trembled with emotion.

You lifted your head, pouting slightly, and Haechan smiled softly at your adorable expression, brushing his hand over your hair.

“I promise, I won’t leave you.”

“This is the final round!”

“Thank god” Hendery said.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“2!”

Haechan immediately grabbed your hand, pulling you close, and glanced at the others.

“Split up. Only one person is needed here, i can do it” Hendery said and smilled to you.

You and Haechan sprinted toward the door. He opened it and was about to step inside when you suddenly broke free from his grip. Someone shoved you roughly, pushing you aside.

A man dashed past you, slipping into the room with Haechan and slamming the door shut.

You froze, staring in horror at the closed door.

Haechan turned, realizing your hand was no longer in his. When he saw a stranger instead of you, his expression darkened with fury.

“Get out!” he shouted, shoving the man.

“There’s no time!” the man argued, resisting him.

Haechan said nothing. He punched the man in the jaw, then shoved him toward the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

The timer hit zero, and the doors locked.

Haechan stood motionless, staring at the door in disbelief. Then he heard gunshots.

No. No way.

"This is all because of you, asshole."

Haechan furiously lunges at the guy, punching him in the face.

"I’m sorry! I just wanted to survive! I accidentally went into your door!" the guy pleads.

"You pushed her! She was with me!" Haechan yells, continuing to hit him. But he suddenly freezes when he hears the guy’s next words:

"I didn’t push anyone, I swear! I was just running, trying to find someone, and I saw you were alone! Please, stop, don’t hit me!"

The guy covers his face with his hands as Haechan, still holding him by the collar, breathes heavily, staring him down. After a few seconds, the door opens.

Haechan immediately rushes into the hall, frantically scanning it for you. But you’re nowhere to be seen.

"Please, no…" he whispers, panic overtaking him.

A minute earlier.

You stare at the door in terror, watching another guy enter and shut it behind him.

You’re going to die.

You don’t even try to get up in the chaos around you. You’ve accepted it—this is the end. Is this really how it’s going to end? You didn’t even get to do anything with your life.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a hand grabbing yours and pulling you up. You stand and see Hendery in front of you.

"Hendery?"

"Quick, run! There’s only one door left!"

You spot the open green door, and the two of you dash toward it together.

There’s barely any time left, and you’re running as fast as you can.

4… 3…

No. You didn’t want to die. You couldn’t die now.

2…

Hendery pushes you through the door and quickly shuts it behind you.

1…

Click.

"Damn. We made it… I really thought I was going to die back there."

You sit on the floor, wide-eyed, staring at him. Hendery turns to you, his gaze softening.

"God, I’m so sorry. I pushed you too hard. I was panicking—we were so close to running out of time."

He rushes over to you, helping you up and checking for any injuries.

"I’m fine! Really, I’m okay. Thank you for saving me."

"You’re the one who saved me. If I hadn’t seen you, I would’ve died. But, wait… where’s Haechan?"

"Someone pushed me, and he got shoved into a room… That’s how we ended up separated."

"Man, people here are seriously insane."

You laugh and nod in agreement.

As Haechan gets closer to the carousel, he spots you standing next to Hendery. The moment you see him, you both run toward each other.

"Haechan, we made it! Hendery and I are safe!"

"If it wasn’t for her, I’d be dead! Some girl ditched me, and I was in complete panic!" Hendery adds.

But Haechan doesn’t hear a word. He simply pulls you into a tight embrace, breathing shakily. Then he starts inspecting your face and body, searching for any injuries.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you fall? Did he push you too hard?!"

"I’m fine, Haechan. I’m okay."

With a sigh of relief, he hugs you again.

"Don’t ever leave me like that again."

“I won’t i promise.”

note: squid game doesn’t have the end yet thats why this story doesn’t have too…

[leeknot]

Chapter 3: Cracks in the Walls

masterlist

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The early morning light streamed through your window, soft and golden, but it did little to lift your mood. You’d barely slept, your thoughts too loud and relentless. The Stray Kids pack had stayed silent for weeks now, and while you had convinced yourself this was what you wanted, the gnawing ache of uncertainty hadn’t left.

You reached for your tea, sipping it absently as you glanced toward the package they’d sent. The blanket had become a permanent fixture on your couch, and the book rested on your coffee table, marked with a dog-eared page.

It didn’t mean anything. You were just using what was convenient.

That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

---

South Korea – The Pack House

“She hasn’t reached out.” Seungmin observed, setting his mug on the kitchen counter.

“No,” Chan agreed, running a hand through his hair. He had hoped their silence would make her curious, that it would give her the space she needed to reconsider. But now he wasn’t so sure.

“Do we try again?” Jeongin asked hesitantly, glancing around at the others.

“We should,” Hyunjin said firmly. “If she’s going to reject us, she needs to see who we really are first. Not some distant, faceless pack.”

Felix nodded, his expression warm. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. She’s scared of being pushed into something. What if we show her that we’re not here to control her? That we want her to make the decision on her own terms?”

“And how do we do that when she won’t even meet us?” Changbin asked, leaning back in his chair.

“By being patient,” Chan replied. “And by showing her we’re not giving up, even if she keeps the door closed.”

---

London

A knock at the door startled you, breaking the quiet hum of your morning. Frowning, you set your mug down and shuffled to the door, hesitant. You weren’t expecting anyone, and your anxiety prickled at the thought of an uninvited visitor.

When you opened the door, you were greeted by a delivery driver holding an envelope.

“For Y/N.” he said, handing it over before disappearing down the hall.

Your hands trembled as you closed the door and opened the envelope, revealing a folded piece of thick paper. It wasn’t a letter this time—just a simple handwritten note.

We understand your hesitation and your fears. We don’t want to pressure you or take away your choice. But we want you to know that the door will always be open for you, no matter what. – Stray Kids Pack

Beneath the note was a plane ticket.

Your heart skipped as you stared at it, your emotions a tangled mess of anger, fear, and something softer you didn’t want to name. They were giving you the option. No strings, no demands—just a choice.

You sank onto the couch, clutching the ticket in your hands. Part of you wanted to throw it away, to stay in your safe, predictable bubble. But another part, buried deep, whispered something else.

What if?

The question haunted you as the hours passed. What if they were different? What if they meant what they said? What if, for once, you could find a place where you belonged?

As night fell, you found yourself staring at the ticket again, your walls cracking under the weight of possibilities.

To be continued...

taglist: @thatgirlangelb @eastjonowhere @babygirlskz98 @realrintaro

[thereadingmoon]

he’s asking if you’re a communist, Robin.

[catwouthats]

EITHER I HAVE GONE INSANE OR THERE IS MORE THAN ONE VERSION OF THIS FILM OUT

Istg it’s just like what happened with Spiderman: Across the Multiverse…

I SWEAR THERE MIGHT BE MORE THAN ONE VERSION OF THE DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE MOVIE

… however I do have shit memory so maybe not…

[classyrbf]

SHE SAID IT'S HER FIRST TIME! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...older bf!nanami finds out he’s your first time and he intends to make it very special

INFO...older bf!nanami x virgin fem!reader, age gap (earlier 20s, early 30s), virginity loss, consent checks, praise, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy eating, penetration, slight blood, slight crying, creampie, nanami grows kinda feral, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Having Nanami as an older boyfriend was such a joy. The maturity, thoughtfulness, communication, love, commitment, and patience you received from him was more than you could have ever asked for. You were always so open with him, telling him everything and just being the annoying girl friend you were. But, there is one thing that you’ve kept hidden for the last six months of your relationship.

Every time things got heated between you Nanami while making out or getting handsy, you always backed out last minute telling him that you “weren’t ready” and he always understood and respected your boundaries. Though, you are ready. If you were to lose your virginity to anyone you’d want it to be your sweet loving boyfriend. But voices in the back of your head start to make you overthink, wonder if he’ll even want you anymore if you confess to him.

It isn’t until you’re here on his bed, hands tangled in his hair while kiss him slowly, passionately. His hands are roaming all over your body, still careful to be respectful. You’re pushing into him, smiling in between kisses. “Have I ever told you how much of an amazing kisser you are?” He chuckles, peppering kisses along your jawline.

A blissful sigh escapes your lips before you answer, “no.” You shake your head, his lips traveling lower down to your neck. Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, enjoying the moment. His tongue glides along the skin of your neck, gently sucking and kissing, earning little whimpers from you as a reward. His hand grabs at your leg, hooking in over his waist as he pushes his hips into you.

Your breathing grows shallow, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. You gulp, feeling things grow more intense with each passing second before you push Nanami away. “I’m sorry, Kento, I just—”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand you want to take your time with this kind of thing.” He gently grabs your hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His brows furrowed as he studies your features, eyes wandering every where else but into his. “What’s wrong, hm? You know you can talk to me,” he says in the most smooth voice, one that makes you wanna spill every secret. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. “Sweetheart?” He draws out the pet name, he knows something is on your mind.

“Ken, I feel bad for keeping this from you for so long, but,” you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, “I’m a…virgin.” You finally look in his eyes, clenching your jaw. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, ears ringing loudly it almost drowns out your heart beat.

His lips part, eyes widening at your words. Deafening silence falls upon you like a tidal wave and you feel the embarrassment rush in. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything I…I’m just gonna go.” You quickly scramble to your feet, grabbing your sweater from off of his bedroom floor. Maybe those voices in your head were right. Why would a man like Kento want anything to do with an inexperienced girl like you, compared to a woman who would know how to please him, give him a what he wants.

Just as you were about to walk out his bedroom, you feel a tug at your arm pulling you back until you hit his broad chest. “Where are you going?” He asked, looking at you. “I never said to leave, sweetheart.” He walks you back over to the bed, taking your sweater from your hands and placing it on the back of his chair. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for the next words to leave his mouth. Eyes follow his every movement, watching the way he walks over to you and kneels down in front you, grabbing your hands in his. “Look at me.” And you do, eventually, meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

You find it hard to speak, to even get a peep out. Nerves are shot and it feels like your stomach is twisting in knots. “I just thought that—”

“That I’d be upset you’re a virgin?” He asked, putting it all out there. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sweetheart,” he chuckles, flashing a smile at you, “you’re too cute for your own good.” He caresses your cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so nervous each time we’ve made out.” He licks his lips, taking a deep breath in before speaking again, “listen, we don’t have to rush into anything. You should’ve just told me, but I understand your feelings.”

You blink a couple of times, your heart rate finally drops, feeling more comfortable with the situation. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders, and even more importantly, you were glad Nanami took it so well. “But, I am ready.” You look away from him.

“What?” His brows furrowed, confusion written on his face.

“I’ve been ready, just been scared, nervous…I don’t know.” You shrug, your voice getting quieter with each word you say.

His hand comes up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he directs your gaze back towards him for the millionth time. “Are you asking me to be your first?” He asks in such a gentle tone, eyes carrying a look of adoration in them. Sheepishly, you nod.

“Always wanted it to be you, Ken. You’re so kind to me, and so patient,” you admit.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first.” He kisses the top of your hand, soft lip pressing against your skin as he stares into your eyes. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?” He smirks.

Everything in you is telling you to pounce on this man and go at it like animals with how he was treating you. It only made him a hundred more times attractive than he already was. Your lips find his as you both fall back onto the bed, resuming the make out session from minutes ago, only this time it’ll actually lead somewhere. The kisses felt more feverish, more passionate, something that’d you been craving this entire time.

“Can I take your clothes off?” He asked, placing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll take mine off too.”

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. The fabric slipped over your head, your first instinct was to cover your chest, feeling completely vulnerable in this position. His hands carefully undid your pants, pulling them down along with your panties, discarding the items of clothing on the wood floor. You covered yourself up, shutting your legs and holding your chest.

As you watched him get undressed, your eyes landed upon the obvious tent in his shorts, leaving you turned on. His body seemed liked it was carved from the gods, toned biceps, shredded six pack. He looked like he could just easily toss you around, put in whatever position he wanted. Not to mention, you could see how big he was through his boxers, your nerves starting to wrack up again as you began to wonder if it’d even fit. And once he pulled them down, your eyes widened and worry flooded your face.

Nanami let out a light laugh at the look on your face. “What’s the matter?” He asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs.

“Do you think it’ll fit? It’s just…really big, Ken.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander. He was thick, and slightly long, which is reasonable excuse for your worry.

“It might hurt a little, sweetheart, but that’s why I need to prepare you, yeah? Make it feel good for my sweet girl. Now, don’t hide yourself from me, okay? I wanna see all of you, praise all of you.” He leaned over, kissing your lips again, trailing down further with each one. His hands replaced yours, gently groping your tits, squeezing them in his hands. “Such soft and pretty tits.” He kissed each one. “Can I suck on them? I promise you it’ll feel good.”

Once he gets your approval, he wastes no time, his lips latching onto your hard nipple, hot tongue swirling around the bud. His eyes fluttered shut, a muffled moan escaping his lips. Your hands find themselves in his hair, little pants and whimpers leaving your lips at the foreign sensation. His other hand pulls at your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he gets lost in thought. He pulls his head up, hazy eyes staring back at you. “Doing okay, baby?” He asks.

“Yes, please keep going.” You bite down on your bottom lip, earning a smile from his as he moves over to your other nipple, tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive skin before taking it in his mouth, suckling on it. “Mmm, Ken,” you whimper, tugging at his hair.

“Feeling good?” He places kisses all over your tits, his touches so gentle. You buck your hips up towards him, grinding against him. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re feeling needy, aren’t you, baby? Go on, you can tell me.” The flat of his tongue lays against your nipple again, slowly licking, teasing you.

You bring your hand up to your face, covering it, too embarrassed to look at him, to let him hear you. But with each flick of his tongue more whimpers spill out of you, overflowing. His warm lips press kisses to your sternum, traveling down towards your stomach, getting lower and lower until you jolt up. “What…what are you doing?” You ask, dumbly. It was clear what his intentions were with his mouth just inches away from your cunt.

“Just sit back and relax.” He caresses your side. “Open up for me, wanna get a taste,” he murmurs. He gently pushes your thighs open, scooting lower on the bed. His mouth slightly parts, eyes gravitating towards your wet cunt. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he chuckles, looking up at you. He rests his head against your thighs, lips kissing your skin, worshipping you, savoring you. He plans to tease you as much as possible, he wants you ready.

You body twitches when you feel his fingers ghost over your throbbing cunt, light touches making you yearn for something you’ve never even had before. He kisses down your thighs and towards your pussy, pausing when he finally reaches. He looks up at you for approval and when you scoot your hips closer towards him with the cutest whimper, he dips his head down between your legs and presses the slowest kisses on your clit. The way you gasp makes him smirk, he wonders how you’ll sound when he uses his tongue.

Finally, you feel the flat of his hot tongue dip between your soaked folds, pushing its way up your slit and finding your clit. You sit up on your elbows, brows furrowing in pleasure as Nanami wraps your his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place. He moans against you, pulling you closer towards him as he starves for more of your taste.

He flicks his tongue across your clit, his chin coated in your juices before he moves his tongue lower, tongue fucking you. You bite down on your plump lower lip, quietly moaning while your eyes watch his every movement, like you were studying him. His tongue slithers back to your clit, circling it before he gently sucks on it. “Hah, fuck,” you gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his blonde locks of hair.

He lifts his head, licking his lips to not waste any drop of you. “Hey, pretty girl, can we try something?” His voice is gentle, a sense of security in it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The pad of his thumb rubs your clit in circles, his other hand caresses your thigh. “Wanna try fingering you while I eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for me,” he explains.

You gulp, nervously looking down at his hands. “Will it hurt as much?” You ask.

“Might hurt a little, but it’ll help. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I never wanna hurt you.” He sits up, moving closer towards you.

You nod slowly, “okay,” you meekly say. Nanami, wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting your leg around him as you both lay on your sides.

“You ready?” He asks, kissing your cheek, his fingers rubbing your slick over your entrance and back over your clit, trying to get you prepared. “Just gonna do one finger for now until you want more,” he whispers into your ear. Slowly, he slides his thick digit into your entrance and you immediately let out a pained sigh. He removes his finger, pressing another kiss to you cheek. “Take your time, baby. You’re okay. Hold on to me if it gets too much.” He continues rubbing your clit in slow circles until you give him the nod of approval to try again.

He pushes his finger past your folds, feeling your walls clench around him as he goes inch by inch. “Mmm.” Your eyes screw shut as you cling onto his broad shoulders, feeling the sting of the stretch. He finally gets it all the way through and you’re panting, clawing at his skin.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassures. “Hey, look at me,” he grabs your face in his direction, “it’s okay.” He kisses your lips as you whimper against his. “I’m gonna start moving my hand now.” You hold onto him tighter, the burn making you wince as he pulls his hand back and pushes his finger back in, slightly gaining in speed.

You can’t seem to look away from him, melting into his touch as the pain slowly turned to pleasure, feeling your body accept him just like you wanted this entire time. He presses his forehead against yours, bodies pressed up against one another as you fight back the urge to kiss him until you’re breathless. Your hips rock into his hand, following his movements. “Want more,” you whimper, nodding at him.

“Want more, pretty? Yeah?” He pecks your lips, carefully sliding his ring finger into your entrance. You whine at the stretch, taking in a deep breath when you feel his fingers curl up, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your cunt squelches around his fingers, sucking them in. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, working fingers faster until you’re a moaning mess.

Wet kisses make their way down your neck, moving lower down to your chest as he repositions himself at the end up of the bed, fingers still curling inside you. He pushes one of your legs back, eyes intently watching the way your pussy takes his fingers so well. Without warning, the flat of his tongue presses down your swollen clit. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, gripping at the sheets below you. Your body shivers with pleasure, the sensation of his tongue and fingers sending you to cloud nine.

Your head falls back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, legs threatening to close around his head. He slurps your pussy, tongue working its way through your folds to get every last drop. He’s moaning at your taste, breathing heavily through his nose. His hand pushes your leg back farther, nearly up to your chest, as he works hard to drive that orgasm out of you. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cry out, clutching at his hair, pushing his head down when he sucks on your sensitive clit once more. “Ken, baby, I think—fuck!” You squeal, rocking your hips on his face. Your legs close around his head as your orgasm arrives, body quivering, and every touch is heightened. That doesn’t stop Nanami, low eyes watching how prettily your back arches off the bed, your walls squeezing his fingers. “Hah! Ah! Yes!” You moan.

Nanami finally lifts his head, chest heaving up and down as he looks at you with the most love in his eyes. “Fuck, baby, you did so good. Come here.” He rushes to plant his lips on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His dick is throbbing, oozing pre from the tip just from watching you cum. “You alright?” He asks, petting your cheek.

“I’m okay.” You nod. “Thank you.” The sweetest smile spreads across your face, one that makes his chest fill with warmth. “But, I think I’m finally ready.” You look down towards where you two meet, only inches away from one another.

“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable,” he says softly.

“I promise I am. Just…go slow,” anxiousness riddled your tone.

“Of course. Let me know at any time if you wanna stop.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. The nerves build in your chest, and your stomach fills with butterflies. He repositions his hips, rubbing his length through your folds, smearing his precum. He lightly groans, slowly moving up and down, nudging your clit with each thrust. Nanami notices you watching, he can see you’re still nervous. “Baby, look at me, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He gently grabs your face, staring into your eyes before his fat tip pushes its way through your folds. Your eyebrows raise in surprise before furrowing. He goes as slow as possible before removing himself, letting you take a breather.

You spread your legs further before another attempt, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pushes into you again, inch by inch you feel the stretch, the stinging sensation making you grit your teeth. “Ah!” You bury your face in his neck, when you feel his hips finally meet with yours.

Tears fall down your cheeks, and he’s quick to kiss them away. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let’s stay like this for a minute.” He wipes your tears, massaging your thighs as you try to accustom to his size. “Gonna start moving now.” He pulls his hips back, his length coated in a mix of your juices and slight blood. “Oh, your bleeding baby.” He looks at you with the most empathetic expression.

“Mmmph, sorry, I’m sorry.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as it came to mind that it was most likely on his sheets.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s completely normal.” He kisses your lips as he pushes his hips against your again, the head of his cock grazing over a sweet spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?Hah, my sweet, sweet girl—fuck,” he breathily chuckles. And now he’s moving faster, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like you never want to let go. “So fucking tight,” he grunts.

You feel so full of him, like he was made for you. His dick dragging along your walls, his hands holding you close, wrapping around you as he whispers praises in your ear in the most sweetest voice. Your eyes roll back, nails leaving marks on his skin, your toes pointed. He’s fucking you into the mattress, but being oh so gentle about it. “It feels so good,” you mewl as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

“This pussy was made for me baby—oh shit—taking me so fucking well. You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He presses into you, each thrust sending your mind spiraling as shivers run down your spine, your body covered in sweat. Nanami squeezes you tightly, kissing your neck, and nibbling at the skin.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” It feels like your breath is being sucked out of you, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. “Gonna cum!” You cry out. “Hah—yes, yes!” He keeps the same rhythm, tip of his dick kissing your cervix before your shaking under him.

He holds you tightly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as you cum around his dick. Your hands cup his face, searching his eyes. “That’s my girl, let it all out,” he says. He can feel you clenching down on him, the feeling making his dick throb harder. “Always be my good girl, right baby?” He asks. And all you can do is nod, when he starts fucking you faster, almost like he’s grown feral. “It’s good that you know because I’m about to fuck you like you aren’t.” He pushes your knees to your chest, lifting your hips slightly so that he reaches the deepest parts of you. ��Nngh, fuck!” He grunts.

“Ken! Oh fuck, fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, the bed rocking and creaking with each other his hard thrusts. A hand clasps over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your screams of pleasure.

“Pussy feels so good, sweetheart. Can’t get enough—fuck—I’m sorry,” he heavily pants. Strands of blonde hair cling to his forehead, eyes fixated on watching his dick disappears in and out of you, your pussy creaming around him, leaving a white ring around the base. He can feel you clenching down on him again, your nails leaving crescent marks in his forearms as you’re cumming for a third time tonight, barely able to form words. “Atta girl. Look so pretty cumming on my cock,” he smirks.

Your back arches into him, legs quivering as he thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier. “Nnngh, shit,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum—ah!” His brows furrow as he fucks you harder, a primal feeling rises in him as he thinks of cumming inside of you for the first time ever. “Baby,” he says with desperation, “baby, let me cum inside you.” A rosy red spreads across his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.

Your arms reach out to him, dragging him down for kiss, legs locking around his waist as you push him closer to you. Nanami groans into the kiss and you swallow every last one as his seed fills you up, coating your walls. He slowly fucks you, making sure to get every last drop of his cum in you before pulling out.

“Oh my god, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. You laugh with him before he rolls both of you over, you now on top of him. He caresses your cheek and you melt into his hand, a blissful sigh leaving your lips. “You did absolutely amazing.” He smiles. “You doing okay, though?” He wonders, fingertips tracing patters on the small of your back.

“Yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes shut, “I’m doing great actually.” You smile. You rest your head on his chest. “Thank you, Ken.”

“No, thank you. I’m glad that you trusted me to be your first, honestly. It means a lot to me.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You’ll always be my girl.” He continues tracing your skin.

“Really?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Promise me?” You pout, batting your lashes.

“I promise.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lips before you press a kiss to it. He chuckles at the small gesture. “Let’s get in the shower, together, yeah? Maybe order some food? You deserve it.”

[malachitezmeyka]

If my school administrator has a million haters, I’m one of them. If my school administrator has a thousand haters, I’m still one of them. If my school administrator has one hater, it’s me. If my school administrator has no haters, then I have left this world. If the world is with my school administrator, then I am against the world

[willowpains]

we listen and we don’t judge

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

Drew was not a fan of social media.

Unlike you.

Chronically online was a term that was gaining fame to describe someone who spent quite some time on the internet, and who knew all the trends going on.

You weren’t exactly proud to be a part of that community.

But it kept you entertained.

And that’s how you ended up setting your phone up, ready to record Drew and you filming a new trend on TikTok.

How did you convince him to do it? You don’t even remember.

And after what felt like an eternity of explaining the dynamic to Drew, you both were finally ready to begin.

Both of you sitting next to each other on your couch, you looked at him with a mischievous smirk while he stared at you suspiciously.

“We listen and we don’t judge” you both said at the same time, Drew smirking at you.

“I’ll start” you said, looking from your phone screen to your boyfriend. “Sometimes, when I don’t really wanna cook, I get all dramatic and lie about us not having all the ingredients for the dish I was supposed to make, so you can offer to make something instead with what we do have” you say, giving him an embarrassed smile.

He chuckled at your words.

“I knew that love” he lets out a laugh. “You’re not good at lying to me”.

Your mouth opens up in shock.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

Drew pauses for a moment, smiling at you.

"When you're showering, i close the door of our room so the sound of your music gets as muffled as possible" he admits.

You giggle as you nod at his words, you did like to shower with loud music.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You look at him through the screen.

“I thought you hated me when we first met, so I would intentionally try to stay out of your way our first couple of working days together”.

Drew gives you a puzzled expression trying his best not to judge.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

He clears his throat before speaking.

“I often fake coming home super tired and stressed so that you take pity on me and cuddle me while playing with my hair” he says giving you a cute smile.

You giggle at his words.

“That’s cute” you admit leaning to peck his lips.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You take a couple of seconds before speaking, trying to be dramatic.

“I have a lot of edits of you saved on my favorites folder on TikTok” you look at him.

Drew covers his eyes while letting out a chuckle.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

He looks at you mischievously.

“I get jealous of the guys in your books” he admits seriously.

You let out a laugh as you throw your head back.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You giggle softly before confessing the next one.

“Whenever I feel sick in the middle of the night, I wiggle a lot in bed or move your body so you’ll accidentally wake up and ask me what’s wrong”.

He opens his mouth surprised at your words.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

Drew thinks a little before speaking.

“Ever since we met I’ve always been skeptical of your at home remedies for illnesses, even though they work every time” he admits.

You slowly nod while giving him a defeated look, knowing that already.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You give him a playful look before speaking.

“When we’re cuddling, sometimes I have the urge to stand up abruptly because I get too hot and I feel like I can’t breathe because you’re too big” you say, barely getting out the words without laughing.

Drew looks at you with big eyes, moving his brows up and down at the double meaning of your last words.

You roll your eyes at him.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He thinks for a moment before speaking.

“When I’m showering, sometimes I’ll use your shampoo rather than mine” he pauses as he looks at your baffled face. “It leaves my hair softer! And smells like you”.

Of course, there were a few confessions you had to cut from the video because your PR managers would hunt you down if they made it out into the internet.

“We listen and we don’t judge” you both say smiling at each other.

You smirk playfully at him before speaking.

“I cannot stand one of your friends and past coworkers” you admit, making a serious face.

Drew immediately throws his head back and lets out a chuckle, knowing exactly who you’re referring to.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He clears his throat before looking at you.

“I don’t like watching F1 since you told me about that driver that slid into your dm’s” he lets out cockily.

You burst out laughing looking at him while he joins you.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You make a thinking face looking at him.

“I wish you sent me more shirtless photos” you say giving him puppy eyes. “Or like, you took more of those with my phone, so I could look at them”.

He snorted out a laugh.

“That can be fixed baby” he says as he looks at you mischievously.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He gives you a smile.

“When I travel for work and you’re not coming with me, I take a pair of your panties and stuff them in my suitcase” he says laughing.

You scrunch up your nose at him.

“Drewwwwww” you say covering your face, now knowing where those missing undies went.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You avoid his eyes for the next one.

“Sometimes when I’m cold, I throw on one of your dirty hoodies that you used while working out, cause they’re sweaty and smell like you” you say, trying not to burst out laughing.

He gives you a grossed out look.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You look at him waiting for him to speak.

“You know those sleeping shorts Brooke sent you cause she accidentally bought too many?” He says, making quotation marks with his fingers while saying sent and accidentally.

You nod at his words.

“I actually bought them for you because I love how your ass looks in them”.

Your mouth opens at his confession while you hit him playfully in the chest.

Drew laughs at your reaction.

“Oh my god baby, this is definitely not making it to the video” you say as you stand up from your position while laughing at him, walking to your phone to stop recording, while he stands back watching your movements with a smile.

Noticing that in fact, you were wearing a pair of those shorts.

“We don’t judge remember?” he said cheekily.

*

inspired by @valstranquility lando blurb<3

I love this trend on TikTok and I just couldn’t help myself

they’re just too cute I can’t

this was short n sweet hope you like it, if you have any other concepts you’d like to read let me know!

[choslut]

# PUSSY TALK !! (vi x reader)

$YNOPSIS. you’ve been feelin’ a little insecure about yourself lately. good thing you have a girlfriend who’s head over heels for you, no matter what! // wc. 2.4k

warnings. insecure!reader, talk of body image + weight, face sitting, spanking (ass + clit), praise, dirty talk, stripping, oral sex, size kink (?), teasing, fingering, begging, squirting, overstimulation, mirrors, awkward aftercare, spooning, pet names

NSFW below the cut. minors, stay away. enjoy your read!

Dresses aren’t your favourite piece of clothing. They never have been and they never will be, and even as you stare at yourself in the floor length mirror of your bedroom, you absolutely hate how this dress looks on you.

When you asked for something flared that would hide your curves, you didn’t expect your tailor to make you look like an overstuffed cream puff. The flared sleeves hang off of your arms like misplaced scraps of fabric, and the material pools at your feet, surrounding you in an unceremonious circle. You look frumpy, you feel frumpy, and nothing in the world could have convinced you that this is the dress you were going to wear to the annual Councillor’s Gala.

“What the fuck…” You turn around to inspect the back, and it’s even worse than you thought. It seems as if the tailor has attempted a daring backless design, but to you, it just looks like a gaping hole, the fabric tight and loose in all the wrong places before messily accumulating just above the apple of your ass. It looks horrible, and if you weren’t insecure enough, this dress makes you feel like a laughing stock. 

And that’s when the dreaded words come out of your mouth. “I seriously need to lose weight.”

Someone doesn’t like that, because out of nowhere, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and a sharp chin on your shoulder. “And why’s that? I think it looks perfect.” 

Vi loves seeing you in dresses. She thinks they make you look so graceful, no matter what shape you choose. It solidifies the fact that you are her perfect princess, and she will never understand why you hate them when they make you look so pretty. 

She also doesn’t understand this whole weight thing you have going on. If anything, one of the things that first had her on her knees for you was your body, and like now, she always feels a need to be touching it, whether it be stroking your thighs or kissing your collarbone or, like now, wrapping her arms around your perfect waist and pulling you into her chest. 

“‘M not perfect though, Vi,” you grumble, hands running along the sides of your chest and resting over where her hands cradle your tummy. “I look like a creampuff.” 

“Creampuffs are sweet. I like creampuffs,” she says, her eyes making contact with yours in the mirror as she noses your neck. “I like you.”

You roll your eyes and whine. “I know you like me, Vi. But that’s not gonna change the fact that I hate this dress.” 

“Take it off then.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like you’re not going to be stuck in it for three whole hours, playing the part of a member of high society whilst trying your hardest to ignore the obvious stares at the atrocity which is your outfit. You want to tell Vi that it seriously isn’t as easy as that, but you’re distracted by her hands slipping into the open back of your dress. 

“I can help you,” she whispers in your ear, and you can feel the cold metal of her nose piercing against your heated skin. “Take it off, I mean. Relax.” 

“Vi…”

“Can we try something?” She begins to kiss your neck slowly, and you whimper when you feel the rough scar on her lip brush against your heated flesh. “I know you’ve been feeling some way about your body lately, and to be honest, I have no idea why because your body is already so fucking perfect…” Her hands slide up the insides of your dress, and you lift your shoulders automatically as she slips those god awful sleeves off of your shoulders. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”

After all this time, she hasn’t broken eye contact once, and you notice her eyes go dark when she shoves the front of your dress down, only to find your perky nipples staring right back at her. “What is it?” 

“Sit on my face,” she states simply, hands coming round to rub at your tits. “I want all of it, baby. Your whole body. I want you to fuckin’ suffocate me.”

You probably will. You stare at your girlfriend in the mirror incredulously, because there’s no way in the universe that you’re going to sit on her face. Not in a million years, and certainly not today. “No.”

“Give me one good reason why not.” She has a point, because it’s getting increasingly hard to refute her when her hands are making their way underneath the front material of your dress, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your regulation panties. “Go on, give me one good reason why you shouldn’t sit on my face.” Before you can open your mouth to protest, Vi smiles and bites your shoulder. “And your weight is not a valid answer.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Violet.”

“Yes, baby?” She acts like nothing is wrong, like asking you to crush her skull in between your legs a couple hours before the most important event of the year is a completely normal request. And she continues to act this way, even when she slips her hand into your panties, fingers eagerly in search of your clit. “So what I’m hearing is you don’t want to sit on my face, and you don’t want me to make you feel so good that you forget all about this stupid dress and that stupid gala?” 

Your back arches into her chest when she starts rubbing your clit in small circles, lips widening into a smile as she watches you unravel against her. “That’s not what I said.” 

“So why are you acting like you don’t want it?” She’s taunting you now, fingers halting all movement on your clit and sliding down lower, tips starting to tease your quivering hole. “Because I know you want it, baby. She’s telling me you want it.” 

You hate how Vi can read you like a book. You do want this, but you’re worried, and she makes sure to eliminate of all of that worry by slipping her fingers into your cunt, mouth dropping open in wonder when you begin to crumple against her.

“Vi, please.” 

“No.” Stubborn. “You’re not cumming unless you’re where you're supposed to be, princess. My game, my rules, and no amount of that pretty begging is gonna change that.” 

You bite your lip as you feel her palm grind against your clit, fingers speeding up and continually assaulting your sweet spot. It’s so hard not to beg her to let you cum, especially with the way she’s holding eye contact with you so intensely. 

“Say the words, and that orgasm’s yours,” she mumbles, smile ever present as her fingers alternate speeds. “Come on baby, I know you can.”

You can, you will, and you do. Your pleas to cum are replaced with nonsensical begging and whimpering, your hands futilely clawing at her biceps as you try to rip her fingers away from your weeping hole. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, just let me cum, Vi, please-”

All of a sudden, the pressure building up inside of you dissipates, and you notice Vi licking her fingers clean as she backs towards the bed. “That’s what I like to hear,” she laughs, sitting down on the bed in a way that has you weak in the knees. “Come take a seat, princess.” 

Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes to have you stepping out of the pool of fabric on the floor and crawling onto the bed towards her, legs planted on either side of her hips as you bend over and catch her lips in a heated kiss. It’s loud and it’s messy, her hands sliding up your thighs and onto your covered ass as you grind down onto her knee, tongue intertwining with hers in a clash of passion and need. 

“Good fucking girl,” she groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slapping it hard, drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. “Come on, baby, c’mere, come sit.” 

Your hands splay the surface of her chest as you push her back onto the bed lightly, chest heaving gently with every heated breath you take. Vi looks up at you like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, because to her, you are, and she wouldn’t want to be underneath anyone else. 

“There she is,” she whispers as you situate yourself comfortably on her chest. “My pretty girl, huh?” 

“I’m nervous,” you mumble, hips beginning to move slowly as you plant your hands on either side of her head. “I… don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Trust me, you won’t.” She captures your hips in her strong hands and pulls you further up her body, letting you hover just above her collarbone. “I’ve lifted this perfect body with my own two hands before. What makes you think a little face sitting will hurt me?” 

In a way, she’s right. Vi is strong, more so than most people. If it got too much, she would be able to move you effortlessly, and-

You’re pulled out of your train of thought by the feeling of Vi’s nose nestling in between your legs, rubbing up against your pulsing clit under your panties. “Vi…”

“You’re thinkin’ too much, baby,” she groans, voice muffled in between your thighs. “Just do it.” This time, she doesn’t leave you any time to think, because she’s now mouthing at your cunt through your panties, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you ever closer. You gasp in surprise, one hand coming up to grip onto the headboard as you fight not to lose balance. 

Another thing about Vi: she’s impatient. And when you hesitate to begin moving your hips, she does it for you, fingers pulling the seat of your underwear to one side and arms pushing you down hard. 

“She’s so wet, baby, I don’t know how you can say you don’t want this.” Her tongue darts out to lick your throbbing clit and you whine, hips stuttering as you stare hazily at the mess of pink hair in between your legs. Vi is staring up at you with lust swirling in her eyes, and you can feel her smile on your cunt as her tongue slides downwards to your entrance. “I mean, she is practically begging me to eat her out. Is that what you want?”

Before you can answer her, you’re caught off guard by her hand slapping at your clit playfully, sending pleasured shockwaves throughout your system. “ ‘M not talking to you anymore, silly,” she laughs, thumbs rubbing at the area she just assaulted. “I’m talking to her, since my girl doesn’t seem to know what she wants anymore.”

“Stop it,” you grumble, but Vi pays no notice, resuming her languid licks on your pussy. Your protests are quickly turned into prolonged whines and whimpers of her name, the pressure once taken from you beginning to build in your core with each shallow thrust of her tongue into your hole. 

“Not until she’s satisfied, angel.” And she means it, because the grip she has on your thighs is nothing next to lethal, and you feel yourself begin to shake as the pressure builds more and more. “And she’s getting close, don’t you think?”

She is. Your head begins to swim and you tangle your fingers in Vi’s hair in an attempt to stabilise yourself but it proves futile, mouth dropping open as you beg her to let you finish. “Vi, please, please, I’m sorry, I-”

“Nothin’ to apologise for, angel, you’re doing a great job.” You have no idea how she still manages to speak when she’s being all but crushed in the trap that is your quivering thighs, but her voice drives you ever closer, your hips grinding down onto her happily awaiting tongue as you chase your orgasm desperately. You want it- no, you need it, and when she begins to massage your ass sensually, you think you might just squirt.

“Vi...”

“Yeah, baby? Is she telling you something?” She loves playing this game, delaying your orgasm as long as possible whilst making it impossible to hold yourself back. It feels like her hands are everywhere because suddenly her thumb is massaging your clit, and you’re begging her like there’s no tomorrow.

She seems satisfied by your begging, because she takes one arm off of your thigh to use her fingers to fuck your needy cunt. “Cum for me baby, c,mon. Give it to me.”

And give it to her, do you, and in gracious abundance at that. Your juices drench her face unceremoniously as you twitch above her, spine shaking as you hold on to her hair for dear life. You’re all but riding her tongue, and she’s moaning profusely into your cunt, the vibrations only heightening your sensitivity. And try as you might, you can’t pull her away, her mouth a suction as she pushes you unforgivingly into overstimulation.

When you’re all but ready to surrender your stability to her relentless assault in between your legs, you feel a strong pair of hands lifting you off of her mouth gently, and light kisses being littered all over the expanse of your thighs. Vi’s mouth travels along your skin lazily, her powdery blue eyes looking up at your shaky form with nothing but love etched into her irises. You barely begin to register the sweet praises she gives you, instead basking in the afterglow of your intense climax mixed with the feeling of her hands stroking your back.

Moments later and you’re laying down on the bed next to her, curled in a foetal position as you fight the army of sleep threatening to overthrow you. “Are you tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Why don’t you… skip the gala? Stay here with me, I’ll cook, and…”

You think the difference between the Vi laying next to you now and the Vi who made you climax to the brink of passing out is a cute one. She’s never been too good with aftercare, instead trying to make awkward conversation in an attempt to divert from the fact that she just rocked your world in more ways than one. “We can stay home. I’ll tell the organisers I wasn’t feeling too well.” That, and the fact that god awful dress made you want to bust a nerve.

Vi smiles at you gently, and you wish you could stay like this with her forever. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”

© this work belongs to choslut. do not copy, translate, repost or feed my work into any regenerative ai system.

main masterlist

[littlelamy]

a/n: the beginning is loosely based of S4 with rafe and sofia! I’m kinda obsessed with rafe being needy behind close doors 🥵I hope you guys enjoy!

you couldn’t stop replaying his words over and over again in your head. each syllable hit harder, cutting deeper than the last. always running her mouth? what. just a hookup, id never date a pogue.

you stood there, behind the slightly ajar door, heart pounding so loudly you were sure it could be heard. but rafe didn’t notice—he was too busy tearing you down with topper, speaking like you were nothing more than a nuisance in his life. he’d never know how those words would haunt you, how the trust you had in him shattered like glass.

your eyes burned with unshed tears, the sharp sting of betrayal settling into the pit of your stomach. but there was something else bubbling just beneath the surface—rage. not the hot, fiery kind that comes and goes. no, this was colder, more calculated. the type that stews, planning its revenge.

your fingers itched to grab your things and leave, but not without making sure he understood who held the power in this relationship. you weren’t going to walk away defeated, not when you could leave him begging for mercy.

so, instead of running, you turned, heart hardening with each step as you walked back into the room, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled out a suitcase from under the bed.

if he thought he could treat you like this, he was about to learn how wrong he was. you weren’t some weak girl who would let this slide. no, rafe was about to see a side of you he never had before.

the door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, you could hear his confused muttering. "yo, topper, i’ll catch you later."

rafe’s voice rang through the hallway, much closer now, but still carrying the same arrogant tone. you ignored him, hands moving swiftly as you tossed your clothes into the bag, each item thrown more aggressively than the last.

when rafe finally stepped into the room, his eyes immediately fell on you, and panic flickered in his expression. "what the hell are you doing?"

his voice wavered as he took in the scene—your half-packed bag, the angry flush on your cheeks, the tight set of your jaw.

"what does it look like?" you shot back, barely sparing him a glance as you continued packing.

he hesitated, taking a step closer to you, but the sight of your seething rage stopped him in his tracks. "hey, let’s just—let’s talk about this, okay?"

you laughed bitterly, slamming the suitcase shut before finally turning to face him. "oh, now you want to talk?" you snapped, the sharp edge in your voice slicing through the air between you. "funny, because earlier, it seemed like you had plenty to say."

his face paled as realization dawned on him. you watched as his lips parted, searching for words but finding none. for the first time in a long time, rafe cameron was speechless, guilt flooding his features.

"i didn’t—" he started, but you cut him off.

"save it," you hissed, stepping closer to him now, your eyes blazing. "i heard everything, rafe. every. single. word."

rafe’s breath hitched as the full weight of your words crashed down on him. his eyes widened in panic, and he took another shaky step toward you, reaching out as if to touch you, to ground himself in this spiraling nightmare. "i didn’t mean it, baby. i swear, i wasn’t thinking—i was just venting—"

"venting?" you scoffed, stepping back from his touch. "do i look like someone you just 'vent' about, rafe? am i just some girl you get to shit on when i’m not around?" your voice cracked slightly, the hurt bubbling beneath your fury slipping through the cracks.

rafe’s hands trembled as he dropped them to his sides, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he shook his head. "no, no—please, you know i didn’t mean any of that. i was just—" his voice broke, and you watched as his composure started to crumble, tears pooling in his eyes. "i was just talking, okay? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. you have to believe me."

but you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. your eyes darkened as you stepped even closer to him, your voice dropping to a dangerously low whisper. "if you’re really sorry, rafe, you’re going to have to prove it."

a flicker of hope sparked in his eyes, and he nodded eagerly, desperate to fix what he’d broken. "anything," he breathed, his voice shaky. "i’ll do anything."

you stared him down, watching as he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with nervous anticipation. there was no trace of the cocky, confident rafe now. instead, he was a trembling mess, willing to do whatever it took to keep you from walking out that door.

you grabbed your phone from the dresser, starting the recording and letting the soft beep fill the silence. rafe’s eyes widened as he watched you, confusion and curiosity mixing with the fear in his gaze.

"get on your knees," you ordered, your voice firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

rafe blinked, momentarily stunned by the command, but the second your eyes met his, cold and unwavering, he obeyed. he dropped to his knees before you, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. the vulnerability radiating off him was palpable, his breath shaky as he knelt before you, completely at your mercy.

"you don’t get to speak," you warned, holding the phone steady as you circled him slowly, capturing his wide eyes, his trembling hands. "you only get to listen and do what i say."

he nodded quickly, his throat tight with emotion as he blinked away the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

you positioned yourself on the bed, spreading your legs slightly, and gestured for him to come closer. "you know what to do," you said, your tone soft but commanding.

without a moment’s hesitation, rafe shuffled forward on his knees, his eyes glued to your thighs as he leaned in, his lips pressing soft, tentative kisses along your skin. his breath was hot and shaky, the desperation in every touch making your pulse quicken.

"good boy," you murmured, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, guiding his mouth exactly where you wanted it. "now, show me how sorry you are."

rafe wasted no time, his tongue flicking against you with a desperation that sent shivers down your spine. his hands gripped your thighs, holding on for dear life as he worked to prove himself, his movements frantic, eager to please.

your head tipped back slightly as a soft sigh escaped your lips, but you quickly regained control, focusing on the phone’s camera in your hand. you adjusted the angle, making sure you captured every second of rafe’s unraveling—his lips swollen and red from the effort, his face flushed, sweat beading on his forehead.

"look at you," you cooed softly, your free hand caressing his cheek. "you’re such a mess for me, aren’t you?"

rafe whimpered in response, the vibrations from his soft sobs sending waves of pleasure through you. his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his face harder against you, the tears finally spilling over and streaming down his cheeks.

you could feel the shift in him—the way his body trembled beneath your touch, the way his breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps. he was breaking, right in front of you, and the sight sent a surge of power through your veins.

"don’t stop," you whispered, your fingers tugging on his hair as his pace quickened, his tongue working furiously. "not until i say so."

rafe let out a choked sob, his tears soaking into your skin as he continued, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate. you glanced down at him, the sight of his tear-streaked face and swollen lips sending a rush of heat through you.

"you’re mine," you whispered, your voice dripping with possession as you tilted his face up slightly, capturing the tear that rolled down his cheek with your thumb. "and you’ll never forget it."

rafe’s body shuddered at your words, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he clung to you, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. another tear slipped down his face, and you leaned down, your lips brushing against his cheek, kissing the tear away.

you recorded it all, making sure you caught the exact moment rafe broke for you, his body trembling beneath your touch as he whimpered your name.

"please," he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "i’m yours. i’ll never leave you. i love you. please…don’t leave me."

his words were slurred, thick with emotion, and you smiled softly, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing motion.

"good boy," you whispered, pressing one last kiss to his temple as his body finally collapsed against you, completely spent and vulnerable.

slowly, you stopped recording. rafe barely noticed, his head resting against your thigh, still trying to steady his breathing. his tear-streaked face was a picture of surrender.

you stood up, gently pushing him off you, and his body slumped against the mattress, too weak to even protest. you didn’t say a word as you picked up your phone, your fingers tapping with practiced precision.

rafe watched through bleary eyes, his chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths, the reality of the situation not quite sinking in yet.

the video—the raw, intimate recording of rafe at his most vulnerable—was right there, in your hand. the smirk playing at your lips deepened as you attached it to a group chat, the names of topper, kelce, and several other friends flashing across the screen. rafe’s inner circle, the same ones he was so eager to talk big around. they’d all see this.

and then, for the final touch. your fingers hovered over the keyboard for just a moment before typing: looks like the pogue got your boy.

the message was delivered, the little ‘sent’ confirmation making your heart race with satisfaction. the power was now entirely in your hands, and you relished the silence that followed, the calm before the inevitable storm.

rafe blinked, finally realizing what had happened as he noticed the shift in your demeanor. “w-what did you do?” his voice was small, trembling with fear as his eyes darted from your phone to your face, dread sinking in fast.

you leaned down, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with surprising gentleness, and a sweet peck on his lips. “just reminding you who really holds the power here, rafe,” you whispered softly, your voice laced with a wicked edge. “you thought you could talk shit about me behind my back? guess again.”

rafe’s eyes widened as he tried to sit up, his body weak and uncoordinated. “no, no, no—what did you send? please, baby, please!” he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.

you straightened up, staring down at him, your smile never faltering. “i sent a little reminder to all your friends. they’ll see it soon enough.”

he scrambled to reach for his phone, but it was too late. his friends were already watching the video, seeing him like they’d never seen him before—broken, crying, at your feet, worshiping you. and with that message—looks like the pogue got your boy—they’d know he wasn’t the powerful rafe cameron anymore. not with you around.

rafe’s breath hitched, panic surging through his veins as his phone buzzed incessantly on the bedside table. “no,” he whimpered, tears spilling over again, pure terror flashing in his eyes as he looked up at you, utterly helpless, still with a needy gaze.

you bent down one last time, tilting his chin up so he could meet your gaze, your thumb gently brushing against his swollen lips. “next time you even think about talking behind my back,” you whispered, “remember this moment. because there’s more where that came from.”

with that, you walked away, leaving rafe alone in the room, his phone lighting up with messages from his friends, the weight of his humiliation crushing him.

you didn’t even glance back as the door clicked shut behind you, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

you owned him now. completely.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[pomegranatesarchive]

A female f1 driver who was featured in the barbie movie as the f1 driver. You could write about her scene and working with the Margot and Ryan lol, and how the grid reacts to it. Lanpd could be her bf or not if you don't want.

You don't have to absolutely write if it doesn't strike any inspiration and you obviously can write whatever you want you xoxo

barbie girl | redbull!reader

pairing: f1 grid x reader

summary: redbull!reader does a cameo in the barbie movie

part of my ‘redbull!reader’ series

liked by alex_albon, landonorris, and 816,027 others!

yourusername: this barbie is a f1 driver! 🎀 barbie is out now in theaters near you <33 (or not near you? idk where you lot live)

view comments below!

user1: yn is just hitting all these side quests because what?

user1: happy for her tho!

user2: is this what it’s like to be so rich that you can literally do whatever you want?

user3: YN CAMEO!!!!

user4: WE CHEERED

user5: omw to see barbie now

landonorris: i know where you live

user6: can someone tell me her part in the movie? my parents won’t let me see it 😓

user7: she’s a f1 driver barbie, and she’s gets into a relationship with f1 driver ken (played by glen powell) throughout the movie you could see like snippets of them going from friends to bf and gf!! you could probably find some clips on youtube or something :)

user6: thank you <33

user7: GLEN POWELL????

user8: THE CAPYBARA GUY???

charles_leclerc: i can be your ken 😊

yourusername: no thank you i already have my glen ken!

charles_leclerc: but he can’t drive a REAL f1 car

yourusername: i can teach him

charles_leclerc: FINE

charles_leclerc: BE LIKE THAT THEN

charles_leclerc: I DONT CARE

charles_leclerc: GOSH

glenpowell: i would like to make it very clear that i have no interest in learning how to drive a f1 car!

charles_leclerc: NO ONE CARES GLEN

user9: i love when yn posts because i just know the comments are going to be filled with the drivers acting like they have no decorum

landonorris: i know where you live

alex_albon: movie night?

maxverstappen1: i already watched it

georgerussell63: we know…we all saw the picture of you decked out in pink at the movie theater

user10: LMAO

user11: it makes so much sense that the first time we see max in pink is when he’s supporting yn

lewishamilton: so excited to see it! 🩷

yourusername: love you 💚

charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU TOO YN

maxverstappen1: i want love

alex_albon: can’t remember the last time you said that to me…sigh…

georgerussell63: love me next?

oscarpiastri: playing favorites i see 🤨

landonorris: i love you too 🥰

user12: bring back shame

user13: their desperation makes me sick

oscarpiastri: i guess ill watch barbie now

yourusername: why are you pretending like you weren’t the first to ask me for spoilers?

oscarpiastri: no clue what you’re talking about???

yourusername: mhm sure osc sure

user14: osc 🥹

landonorris: i know where you live

yourusername: what is wrong with you?

landonorris: i’m outside your door

user15: it’s official, lando is killing yn so he can win more races

. . .

notes: thank you for requesting!! hope you don’t mind i used this for my redbull!reader au :)