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wcters · 5 months ago

Text

OVERPROTECTIVE

pairing: max verstappen x fem!leclerc!reader

word count: 1.6k+

summary: the story of how you and max met . . . and how protective he and your brothers can be

request: max verstappen and leclerc!reader : overprotective charles and carlos, very domestic and protective max while theyre int he paddock during race, maybe hes also very affectionate. just some fluff and comedy

warnings/contents: swearing, sexual innuendos

author’s note: maybe took it too far with the beginning but i couldn’t help it, plus that’s something that max would do

As the youngest sibling and only girl, you knew your family would be protective ━━ especially your brothers. Sometimes you liked it, and used it to your advantage by scaring off random guys at parties and being a little less afraid of walking home at night with them there, but you also hated it sometimes. You knew they just wanted you to be okay and not have to experience the same things they did, but it still sucked. Your parents stuck up for you when they could, but when you first moved out and stayed with Charles there wasn’t much they could do.

They had managed to scare off almost every guy you liked or started a relationship with, saying they were ‘too mean’ or ‘impolite’ or just little things like they didn’t like the way he dressed or how he talked. The longest you had been with a guy was two weeks before he got annoyed at your brothers and left. You ignored them for a week as you only went to school, your job, and hid in your room when you were home. And you bet the got a stern talking to from your parents ━━ especially your mom.

That was the longest you had been with someone . . . Until you met Max. You had heard , and knew of, Max Verstappen as him and your brother did karting together as kids and Charles joined Formula One only three years after, but you had never interacted.

The first time you met was in 2019. You had moved to Monaco for university and were living with Charles. Though Charles had invited you to races before, you always declined busy with school work or your job, where Charles would respond with something along the lines of ‘i don’t know why you have that job anyway’ which you would roll your eyes and flip him off. It was the Austrian Grand Prix that you finally agreed to go, one of the races that Max had won that year. You had gotten some time off from your job and you didn’t have too much work so you agreed.

When you arrived, you were a little overwhelmed so you mostly stayed in the Ferrari garage, talking to Charles and sometimes Sebastian, though they were pretty busy. The next couple days you didn’t have too much time to go out and explore, to worried about watching free practices and qualifying, and you didn’t even think about leaving during the race until it was over.

It wasn’t until the after party that you actually talked to him. You originally weren’t going to go, you were going to stay in and work on homework, until Charles begged you and you agreed . . . but only because he came second and you were proud of him. You were nineteen, so you were legal, but you were sure even if you weren’t you’d be allowed a few drinks, albeit with Charles hovering over you more than usual.

It was about twenty minutes into the party ━━ with you and Charles getting drinks and being introduced to other people ━━ when you got introduced to Max. “Max!” Charles had called over the thumping bass of the music. At first, the Dutch man didn’t hear until your brother yelled right into his ear. He turned around, surprised, before calling a ‘Charles!’ and congratulating him. He didn’t see you until he pulled away from the hug, turning to see you. “This is my sister! Y/n!” He told Max, again yelling. You loudly introduced yourself as you put your hand forward. “Max! You came to watch Charles karting when you were younger right?” You nodded. “I recognize you!”

Max eventually got pulled away by some people, you assumed technicians or mechanics as you don’t recognize them as drivers, and didn’t see each other for another hour. You had stepped outside for a minute, overwhelmed, though you made sure to tell Charles where you were going. When you had, he immediately became concerned but you waved him off, telling him you were okay and just needed some fresh air.

You were leaning against the wall of the building, bottle of water in your hand as you heard footsteps. You quickly turned your head, though calmed once you saw it was only Max. “Scare you?” He asked. You got to hear his voice clearer now, taking in his accent slipping out due to the alcohol. “Can never be too careful. Dangerous for women.” He nodded, but didn’t say anything for a little. As you were taking a sip of water, he started to speak. “First race?” You nodded, “yeah. I’ve watched, obviously, but I’ve just been too busy with school that I haven’t had the chance. It’s been a little overwhelming at times ━━ hence why I’m out here.”

“I get that. It was for me too.” You turned to look at him. “You were seventeen, right?” He looked surprised that you knew that. “Yeah . . . I was.” You could see in his eyes that remembering that was heavy. “That must’ve been hard.” You told him but didn’t plan on talking anymore about it. “It was, but that’s life.” You nodded. You offered him a sip of your water bottle, knowing he must be getting thirsty. He replied with a small ‘thank you’ before taking a sip. “Want to get out of here? I’m done for the night.” You raised your eyebrow, “wow. What a gentleman.” He must’ve realized what that sounded like before he started to sputter, apologizing and saying that’s not when he meant. He look confused when you started to laugh. “I know what you meant. But you are drunk and I don’t have a car.”

He lowered his eyebrows. “Right.” You pulled out your phone, getting ready to call a cab. “I’ll call you a cab and get you one while I tell Charles where I’m going.” “You’re coming with me?” You nodded, “yeah, I’m don’t for tonight too. I’ll help you to your room because you are not as sober as you think you are and then I’m heading back to my hotel.”

You went in, telling Max with a stern finger in his direction to ‘stay where he was’ while you went to grab a bottle of water and tell Charles where you were going. He didn’t approve, warning you to be careful and not fall for anything, but you assured him you were fine.

That night you helped him to his hotel and to his room, finding a bottle of water and aspirin that was in your purse to set on his beside table. While you were leaving, he grabbed your wrist. “Will you take up my offer? Dinner sometime?” You smiled at him. “Sure, but ask me again when you’re sober so you know what you are doing.” The next morning on the plane, you got a text from Max, letting you know he got your number from someone and that he still wanted to take you out for dinner. You agreed, setting a time and place.

That eventual dinner date led to now, almost five years into your relationship. Charles was a bit upset, but after a ‘talk’ with Max, he felt a little bit better about it, and he warmed up after awhile. Your brothers didn’t manage to scare him off. You had warned him, and talked with them about it, so that helped a little.

It was the 2024 Bahrain Grand Prix. You sat in the Ferrari garage talking with your brother and Carlos while also keeping track of your boyfriend during the free practice. You were sitting down in one of that chairs with the two men standing. You didn’t even notice something was happening until you felt something hit the back of your head. You let out a small ‘ouch’ while rubbing the back of your head. You tried not to make a scene, but the mechanic who had hit you let out a big ‘oh shit!’ which pulled everyone’s attention. I

Immediately your brother was on you making sure you were okay while Carlos went to chew out the mechanic. Through the pain in your head, and Charles calling for ice and a medical staff, you heard a mix of fast English and Spanish. It wasn’t until the ice was placed on your head that you started to refocus. “Est-ce que ça va (are you okay)?” You nodded, though regretted it immediately. “Ouais. Tout va bien (yeah. I’m fine).” Carlos eventually came over and pulled Charles away to let the doctor examine you. You told them you were fine and that Charles was exaggerating ━━ which they laughed at ━━ before checking you out anyway and clearing you.

Though you know better, you thought that Charles and Carlos would leave it, but you were wrong because later when you got back from the bathroom, you saw the two men talking to a very angry looking Max. When Max saw you, he left the boys and headed straight for you, using his hands to bend your head down and check the back of your head. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?” You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “I feel like a monkey being inspected by another monkey.” He pulled your head back up so your eyes met his.

“Schatje.” “Max. I swear I’m fine, it was a mistake.” It was his turn to roll his eyes, “a mistake that shouldn’t happen.” You stars at him, unimpressed. “Max Emilian Verstappen if you do anything I’m not scratching your head tonight.” You told him as you walked away.

“Liefje! That’s not fair!”

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jinwoosbabyboo · 6 months ago

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The School is Calling

You got a call about your kid(s) fighting at school ... this can't be good .... or is it? [Requested by: Anon]

Zayne

Principal: Your child got into a fight during lunch

MC: who started the fight?

Principal: That's not important the important thing is your daughter brutally beat up another child

Zayne: What was the fight about?

Principal: Another child took her fruit cup

MC: Is this the same kid who put slime in her hair two days ago?

Principal: Yes but-

Zayne: Is this the same kid who's been taking her notebooks for the last two weeks

Principal: well you see-

Zayne: This sounds like a case of bullying and it seems as though you and your staff have done little to discipline a student who has been bullying our daughter

Principal: I assure you we have a strict no bullying poli-

Zayne: It's not strict enough.

The principals lips snap shut.

Zayne: Now violence is not the answer, but this sounds like a case of self-defense you along with your staff need to handle the bullying problem you have in this school

Principal: ....

Zayne: Are we done here?

Principal: Yes we're done here sir sorry to bother you two

MC: Don't be sorry be better

Rafayel

Principal: Your children got into a fight during recess

Rafayel: Damn *turns to his kids* did you two win?

Your children rapidly nod with big smiles on their faces.

Rafayel: Hell yea! up top!

Principal: Sir this is not a good thing

Rafayel: Did they start it?

Principal: Well no

Rafayel: So they finished it?

Principal: Sir

Rafayel: Good talk ... tell your students to leave my kids alone now if we're done here im taking them to get ice cream

Rafayel walks outside with the twins in tow and finds you leaning against the hood of the car.

MC: So?

Rafayel: They didn't start it they finished it and they won

MC: That's what I like to hear ... Ice cream?

Rafayel & the twins: ICE CREAM !

Xavier

Principal: Your child got into a fight during P.E.

MC: Who started it?

Principal: That's not important here

Xavier: Answer the question.

Principal: ........The other kid shoved your child into the wall

Xavier: Which explains the bruise on his elbow

Principal: Your child then proceeded to punch the other kid in the mouth knocking his tooth out

Xavier: Sounds like self defense

Principal: Your son busted that kids lip sir

MC: Maybe that kid should've kept his hands off our son

Principal: We can't have your son fighting it goes against everything we stand for

Xavier: My son has told you and your staff multiple times this kid was being mean to him and you've done nothing

Principal: We've done everything we can

Xavier: No you haven't you let it slide until he stood up for himself and showed that kid that his actions have consequences we're done here

Sylus

MC: I just got a call from the school, but I won't be able to make it up there in time Sylus: I'll go I'm not busy MC: Okay let me know how it goes

Principal: Im sorry to inform you that we're going to have to suspend your daughter

Sylus: Why.

Principal: She tied up a student and stuffed him in a locker

Sylus: Why.

Principal:*mumbling* He .... He ripped one of her braids out

Sylus: Speak up.

Principal: Another student pulled her hair and removed a braid by accident

Sylus: If I do recall my daughter has reported this kid pulling her hair multiple times

Principal: Yes but we can't have her fighting

Sylus: She didn't fight .... she overpowered him and showed their difference in strength

Principal: but-

Sylus: You're lucky she doesn't like picking on the weak ... don't bother me or her mother with these trivial matters again ... lets go little dove

MC: How did it go? Sylus: Just a friendly chat nothing serious MC: What did she do? Sylus: Made me proud

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads sylus #lnds #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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onmyyan · 8 months ago

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hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc imagine #yandere dc x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere damian wayne x reader

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wileys-russo · 2 months ago

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Ft. Clumsy Alessia on one knee - cliff top - reader: “babe did you just trip again?? Oh my god you’re proposing!!”

part of the maternal instincts universe just say yes II a.russo

you and alessia were engaged. you couldn't quite believe it as for the tenth time just in that hour you'd found yourself gazing down at your ring finger in admiration.

twisting your hand left and right you watched as the clean cut diamond caught the sun, glinting and shimmering as your lips curled into the same dopey smile of disbelief that had been plastered in your face the last two days since.

but in order to understand just how it happened, you'd need to track back through a series of rather unplanned and unfortunate events, and it had all started on a tuesday evening...

you had parent teacher interviews (which really you'd always protested was a waste of time for primary school classes, but the department of education clearly disagreed) which left alessia in charge for the night shift.

now normally that would be fine, bar bella perhaps testing the waters a little more to see just how much she could get away with. though your girlfriend had caught onto this quite quickly and now with both time and confidence under her belt had no issues assuming the stricter parental role as needed.

but tonight it seemed bella and her tummy monster had decided to take it easy on the striker, not kicking up a fuss when alessia refused to buy pizza for dinner since there was things to use up in the fridge, only splashing her half as much as usual in the bath and putting on her least favourite pair of pyjamas since the latter was in the wash.

so naturally alessia felt her guard start to slip, sitting bella down in front of the tv for her designated nightly episode of bluey and busying herself scanning two marketing contracts luca had been harassing her about which had been sat in her email inbox for well over a week now.

sat at the dining room table with her back turned on the suspiciously well behaved five year old, alessia failed to notice the couch was empty, bella wandering off to try and locate her phone which she knew charged in the bedroom, missing you and wanting to say goodnight.

but unaware the phone in question was tucked away in alessias pocket, bella frowned at the bare side table, now on the hunt and pulling open the drawer of the nightstand, pushing up on the tips of her toes to look inside.

sticking a hand up she clumsily fumbled about, pushing and poking and prodding but huffing when ultimately there was still no phone to be found. but then her finger brushed something soft, eyebrows creasing as she stood up as tall as she could until her small hand was able to grasp it.

tugging it out of the nightstand, a small crushed velvet box sat in the palm of your daughters hand, and from the moment she popped it open, everything that was to come in the week ahead was set into motion.

"you bought mummy a ring!" alessia almost fell off her chair as a little voice chirped up suddenly from beside her, eyes widening as large as saucers at the diamond ring thrust in her face as bella climbed up on the chair beside her, wild grin on her face.

"where did you get this? were you snooping? what did we say about snooping isabella?" alessia's tone was sharp as she slammed her laptop shut, lurching forward to snatch the ring and snap the box closed, shoving it into her pocket and head rapidly darting side to side to check you hadn't seen as if you weren't currently on the other side of town.

"no! i wanted your phone, so i could call mummy and say goodnight. does mummy know about the ring? does this mean you're gonna get married? can i be the flower girl? can i wear a pretty dress? can the dress be pink? or maybe red! will leah be there? will uncle-" overwhelmed by the rapid fire investigation taking place alessia was quick to press her hand over the five year olds mouth.

"we need to have a little talk, bella." alessia warned sternly, slowly lowering her hand as bellas once delighted grin lowered into a scowl, crossing her arms and slumping down in the chair, as was her usual go to whenever she knew she'd gotten herself into trouble.

"come on, its past your bedtime." alessia spoke a little softer now, standing and offering her hand for bella to take, chuckling as the girl who was more than capable of walking lifted her arms expectantly.

"oh alright then." alessia gave in with a sigh of amusement, lifting bella up and into her own arms, walking the pair of them down the hall to her room and lowering her into bed, making sure she was all tucked in and comfortable with the small army of stuffed animals bella insisted all needed a place in bed with her.

"now this-" alessia grabbed the ring from her pocket and popped the box open again. "-is a conversation i did not plan to have this way, snoopy." alessia smiled poking at bella's nose who scrunched her face up in response.

"but the situation has clearly changed. so, tiny, would you be okay if i ask your mummy to marry me?" alessia asked, a small handful of nerves bubbling to the surface with the question, surprise clearly written all over your daughters face.

"me?" bella asked in response, pointing to herself as your girlfriend smiled and nodded. "yeah, you. your opinion is pretty important to me you know." alessia affirmed, hand smoothing down the few rogue tufts of hair which stuck up at the back of bella's head where she'd had one of your hoodies on before dinner.

"i want you to marry mummy! i do! then we can be a real family!" bella perked up, alessia almost falling off the bed as bella launched across it, arms flung around her neck and clinging on tightly to the bear hug your girlfriend eagerly wrapped her in.

"we already are a family. me, you, your mum, your dad, your dads girlfriend olivia. thats why we all go out to dinner every second friday, right?" alessia reminded gently, hand rubbing up and down soothingly against bellas back.

"yeah! for chinese." bella nodded happily, the routine one that both you and your ex had implemented once both in quite serious relationships, and much from isabellas own requests.

"but. you cannot tell mummy about the ring or that i want to propose to her, okay?" alessias tone once again adopted a strict undertone, carefully prying bella off and pulling back the covers so she could climb underneath them again.

"but why? she'll be happy! mummy loves you mama." bella wondered innocently with a frown, tucking one of her teddys under her chin as she wiggled around until she was comfortable.

"because its a surprise, so its our little secret. okay? not a word to mummy, nothing, nada, zip!" alessia motioned zipping her lips closed making the five year old giggle and nod in agreement.

"zip!"

and for a few days, that seemed to be working well. until dinner at alessias mothers place, where suddenly everything came crashing down.

you were of course being your usual stubborn self, refusing to let anyone swat you out of the kitchen to help clean up after dinner and flicking your girlfriend with the dish towel when she didn't hold this same level of use.

"babe!" alessia gasped as the crack echoed around the living room, your finger pointing back into the kitchen. "your mum and dad cooked, your brother cleared the table, you can dry a dish or two russo." you warned sternly, the blonde sending a filthy side eye to luca who oohed, earning himself a smack on the arm from his own wife.

but with the pair of you preoccupied in the kitchen, and bella showing alessias parents her latest dance routine in the front room, it would seem the striker should have perhaps been a little more specific with the nature of her earlier warnings.

"lessi! can you come here for a second please darling?" the blonde glanced over your head from where her mum was calling for her, not long having finished helping you wash and dry when bella had come zooming on through, smacking your leg and demanding you were now 'it' for the game of tag she'd started.

"yeah mum what-" but the words died in her mouth the minute she saw the all too familiar red box in the womans hand, mirrored by the looks of pride and joy in both her parents eyes.

"oh god!" alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face and hurrying to all but slam her parents bedroom door shut as the congratulations and hugs started which she quickly wiggled her way out of.

"isabella!" alessia muttered under her breath, forcing a weak smile as her parents chattered away happily and she plucked the ring from her mothers palm, tucking it safely away in her pocket and making a mental note to find a better hiding spot.

"why didn't you tell us you were proposing!" right as her dad clapped her on the back the door opened, alessias head doing a near 360 on her shoulders and exhaling shakily in relief seeing it was only bella and luca, rapidly motioning for the door to be closed again.

"you're proposing??" luca asked with wide eyes, squatting down to allow bella to slide off his back where he'd been carting her around, alessia sighing deeply and pressing her fingertips into her temple.

"i'm gonna be the flower girl!" bella announced happily, bouncing about as the room exploded into chatter once again and the blonde wished the ground could swallow her up.

"isabella i told you not to tell anyone!" alessia warned the grinning five year old who darted back to hide behind lucas leg. "no! mama you told me not to tell mummy." isabella retorted matter of factly, though not with quite enough confidence to move away from using luca as a human shield.

"well i told you not to touch the ring!" alessia groaned again. "i didn't! i touched the box." bella answered back smartly, retreating even further behind luca as alessias eyes narrowed.

"so when are you doing it? now?" her brother questioned eagerly, bella sneaking off when alessias gaze flickered away from her for just a second, the door opening and closing before the blonde could grab her.

"bella don't you-now? of course i'm not doing it now!" alessia scoffed, her head starting to hurt as she advanced toward the door, eager to wrangle you and bella up and get away from here into a much more controlled environment where the threat of the secret being revealed was at least lessened.

"but why not? sieze the moment darling, it doesn't have to be a big gesture!" her mum encouraged, alessia waving her off with a shake of her head, throwing open the door and all but stomping down the hall, her anxiety peaked that bella would continue on her little train of telling and you'd be the next stop.

only when she came to a halt at the back door, time seemed to slow and the hardened lines etched in her forehead softened, watching you and bella kick a ball around in the backyard, sudden nostalgia washing over her of when alessia had been bellas age.

full of life, excitement, with scraped knees and mud stained clothes, determined to best her two older brothers who would constantly shoot her down when she tried to join them, instead practicing on her own until the sun was so low in the sky she couldn't see more than a metre in front of her and she was forced to come inside.

you spotted your girlfriend hovering and watching, giving her a wave and pretending to dive for the ball, bella easily slotting it past you and racing around doing her 'air russo' arms as alessias lips curled into a smile.

though perhaps instead of watching in front of her, she should have been a little more concerned with what lay beneath her, as within no more than two steps forward the striker seemed to forget the layout of her own backyard, tumbling down the three steps that connected the deck to the grass.

of course more than used to your girlfriends clumsiness you didn't think much of it, covering a laugh up with a cough as you jogged on over to her with an amused shake of your head.

but as alessia slowly pulled herself up, she realised there was a looming weight that was now missing from her left pocket, and again head gaze shot downward.

scrambling to recover the small red box sat in plain sight on the grass before her, she was lucky as your attention was temporarily captured as bella called out for you to watch her do a cartwheel.

"very good!" you clapped happily at the five year olds half cartweel, turning around again as bella attempted to try and juggle the ball as she'd watched alessia do countless times, instead booting it halfway across the backyard with an annoyed huff.

"babe did you trip again?" you returned your gaze down to alessia, but your laughter caught in your throat as you did so, the blonde staring up at you like a deer in headlights with a tiny red box in her hand.

you knew you shouldn't say it, but the words came tumbling out of your mouth like a flood before you could stop them.

"oh my god you're proposing." you choked out, alessias mouth opening and closing like a fish. "no im-" but seeing the way your face automatically fell at just those two words, the regret and embarrassment now filling your features, coupled with the multiple sets of eyes she could feel staring at the pair of you from back inside the house.

she made a decision.

"yes. yes i am!" she quickly clarified as you now watched on with shock, alessia shaking her head a few times and exhaling shakily. "um-look i had a whole plan and a speech and it was much more elaborate and romantic and thoughtful than well...this." alessia started nervously, adjusting herself to be on one knee.

"but then bella found the ring early and let it slip to my parents and she brought it here to show them, without me knowing, and then the more people knew the more i worried it would get back to you before i was ready and when i tell you i had a plan i had a plan! i promise. it was-" alessia spoke a million miles an hour as you struggled to keep up, clearing your throat suddenly.

"less, my love, you're rambling." you smiled, still able to find some amusement in this situation as the blonde nodded profusely, pausing for a moment and taking a deep breath.

"this wasn't how i planned it, like at all. but i love you more than anything, i love isabella with my everything, and i want to cement a loving and stable future with both of you. so, will you marry me?" alessia finally popped the question, and you knew your answer, but you just couldn't seem to get the words out.

feeling a hand slip into yours you looked down, finding your daughter stood beside you with a cheshire like grin.

"mummy, just say yes."

and thats exactly what you did.

#woso x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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neeeooon · 20 days ago

Note

Can I get a request of a reader being from a foreign country she is a gamer but she knows nagi from discord and playing games with him. And she decided to surprise him and pop up in Japan. That’s all I got🤣 run with the rest

yess this is so cute TY FOR THE REQ 💗💞

143 means i love you

nagi seishiro x fem!reader. oneshot, fluff. wc: 1.5k

you joined the japanese server to test your language knowledge. plus, you were sick of children screaming slurs on the english server. you didn’t expect to find such good gaming chemistry with someone in another country, and you didn’t expect to give him your discord after.

usernxgi: so we can play tgt again :x

you: sure! but my japanese is awful :’)

usernxgi: u dont need 2 speak japanese 2 play this game lol

you: Die

you and the stranger, whom you learned was named nagi, played several games afterward. however, you didn’t start playing on call until your sixth match together, when you nearly lost because the in-game chat glitched out and cut off your only form of communication.

there was an obvious language barrier the first time you spoke, but nagi was right when he said you didn’t need to speak the same language to play. you understood more than you could say, so when nagi would say “go left” or “back me,” you’d obey without needing to reply.

the relationship between you continued until you were messaging back and forth every day, whether you played together or not. you even trusted him enough to give him your number, and he spammed you with cat memes for two days before eventually growing bored. due to the time zone difference, you'd fall asleep wishing him a good day and wake up with good morning texts.

you: gmmmmm <33

nagi: gm y/n :) how did u sleep ?

you: good! if u aren't busy today, we should play together

nagi reacted "🤍" to your message!

it was a comfortable relationship, and you tried not to dwell on the fact that it was digital. months went by, and you found yourself wanting more and more from nagi. you loved talking and gaming with him, but you wanted to do simple things like go to a movie or eat dinner together.

that's when you got the brilliant idea to go to japan.

nagi told you where he was attending uni after you were deemed trustworthy, and you were following a few of his friends on instagram. they made a chat with you to help teach you japanese, but it dried up once school started again.

when you reached out to his best friend, reo, with your plan, he was more than willing to help. he offered to pay for your flight and hotel, but you politely turned him down (rookie mistake) and instead asked him to show you around the city a bit before you officially met nagi.

reo: do you need a translator? i could set something up for you!

you: noo that's okay!! i've been studying and taking japanese classes at my college :))

reo: okay! i'll have a driver pick you up at the airport

reo: don't say no, he's already been booked and paid for

you: ....... thank you :')

reo: anything for my best friend-in-law!

you were a nervous, shaky mess when your plane landed in japan. you followed reo's instructions and the english directional signs plastered around the international airport until you spotted a man in a suit holding a sign with your name. you blushed ferociously and sped-walked to the man, flashing him a tight smile as you waved awkwardly.

"hello," you greeted in japanese, and the man took your bags before leading you to his limoseine.

you: a limo?? really??

reo: ;)

it surprisingly didn't take as long as you thought it would to reach reo's penthouse. he was waiting outside for you with a blinding smile, and you were caught off guard by how purple his hair looked in person. "y/n!" he shouted when he saw you. "nagi doesn't know you're here, right?"

"no, i wanted to surprise him..." you rubbed your arm, suddenly unsure if this was a wise idea or not. you wanted to see nagi, but maybe you should have discussed your trip with him first.

the light tap of reo's knuckles against your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts, and he flashed you a small, comforting smile. "don't worry. he'll be super excited to see you! well, maybe not super excited, he isn't the type to get very emotional, but i'm sure he'll smile!"

reo helped you get settled in your hotel before giving you a brief tour of his favorite places in the city. "oh! this is where nagi and i went to high school! i taught him how to play soccer here."

eventually, he got a phone call from a certain white-haired boy, and your stomach twisted anxiously. reo caught your expression and beamed. "come on! i told him i'd bring food over for dinner."

after picking the food up, you followed reo to nagi's apartment. he helped you read signs in japanese when you struggled with your pronunciation, and before you knew it, you were standing outside your online friend's door.

this is a bad idea, you mentally scolded yourself. reo entered the code and used his foot to open the door. "nagi!" too late to back out, now!

"huh, reo?" you heard from inside the apartment and halted. his voice was the same in person as it was over the phone, yet hearing it this clearly startled you.

reo gestured you to follow with the tilt of his head. "i have something for you. come here."

"i don't wanna," he grumbled, and you smiled. he really wasn't any different in person than he was online. after a few rounds of gaming together, he usually gave up and got himself killed first so that he could sit back and watch you and his teammates play without him.

you weren't expecting him to round the corner so suddenly, but your breath caught in your chest when he did. he was dressed in grey sweats and a hoodie, both too big to fit, but what really caught you off guard was how tall he was. his voice was on the softer side, so you weren't expecting someone 6'3.

he blinked when his eyes landed on you. you stared at each other for a moment, taking several moments for the situation to process, before nagi stepped back around the corner and out of sight.

"uh—" you cut yourself off when he appeared a moment later with hair not as messy as it'd been before. nagi raised a hand, and you could tell he was trying to keep his grin at bay by the way his lips twitched. "hey."

a giggle bubbled in your chest as you waved back. "hi, nagi."

reo looked between the two of you with a crazed grin. "oh! it seems i have a meeting i completely forgot about! you two will be alright without me, i'm sure. bye!" he didn't give either of you a chance to reply before sprinting out the door, manic laughter following him down the hallway.

you and nagi stood, silently staring at the spot reo had just been standing. you didn't feel uncomfortable in your online friend's presence, but it was a bit awkward as you struggled to find something to say.

thankfully, nagi broke the silence and tipped his head to the side. "wanna game?"

☆ 🎮

"no fair!" you shouted in frustration as you lost... again. "you know the controls; i've never played this before!"

the soft sound of nagi's laughter filled your ears, and you felt your face heat up. "this is bullying."

"cute."

"it's an abuse of power!"

"mmm, yep."

you glared at him and the little upward curve of his lips. "teach me how to play."

"nope."

"why?!" you gaped.

nagi's head tipped back against his shoulders, eyes lazily meeting yours. "i like when you're mad. 's cute."

your mouth snapped shut. whatever creative comeback you were planning evaporated from your mind, and you found yourself struggling to remember how to speak japanese.

"jerk," you managed after a few moments, and he laughed before saying in broken english, "no english, please."

you switched over to a game you were both familiar with after that and finally started winning. the two of you played until the sun set and the delivery food was gone. stretching your arms over your head, you reluctantly stood and placed the gaming controller on the charging stand. "i should probably go to my hotel,"

nagi let out a silent yawn as he followed suit, charging his controller and standing beside you. "ok. should i walk with you?"

"isn't that too much of a hassle?" you teased, and nagi shrugged. he never gave verbal confirmation, but he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and followed you when you exited his apartment.

you breathed in the night air and sighed, smiling when you felt nagi's baggy sleeve brush against your arm every few steps. "i'm happy i got to meet you."

"me too."

"we should hang out again tomorrow if you aren't busy," you offered, sparing him a quick glance to find him already looking down at you with a faint smile. "okay."

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cutebat · 9 months ago

Text

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

The First Page

Warning(s): Neglect, emotional abuse, physical abuse, mind break (There are no yandere themes yet, but will be in another chapter)

(This chapter is basically the first part of the prologue and some things fixed)

~~~~~

10 years old.

You were only 10 years old when the Gotham's billionaire, Bruce Wayne, entered through the doors of the orphanage that you lived under of.

You could remember the owner holding your hand as she lead you to the man who is going to be your father.

You remember when he placed his hand on your head as he introduced himself to you and promised that he'll give you a great life.

You remember when you came to the manor as he introduced you to your new family that consists of four new older brothers, one new older sister, and a butler.

You remember when everyone would talk to you and welcome you with loving embraces.

You also remember a few days foward when Bruce gave you a costume that resembled a white dress with pink details, which earned you the title of Batgirl.

And after all of that, it's like it never happened.

~~~~~

You are now being ignored by everyone.

Nobody gave you a glance, made excuses, and basically beat the shit out of you. Well, not exactly.

For example, there was one day when you came up to Bruce with a flyer in your hand.

"Um, hi, Bruce... I know you're busy right now, but... I'm going to have a school play and I got the main role. So... I hope you can stop by and watch."

You tell him in the nicest way possible.

However, Bruce was so focused on his paperwork that he didn't give you a glance. All he said was...

"Hm? Yeah, I'll go check it out if I finish all of this."

And suprise, suprise, he never showed up.

This resulted in you crying in the girl's restroom all alone in your costume.

~~~~~

There was also a time when you felt like you needed to train more, so you did it by going up to Dick who seems to be training with Damian.

"Um, guys? Can I join you two?"

You ask as you smile awkwardly as your two older brothers turned to you.

Which is why you became surprised when Dick smiles.

"Sure! But, do you mind if you wait until me and Damian are done with this sparring session? It won't take too long."

He said with a chuckle as Damian looked like he was glaring at his little sister.

You didn't want to be rude, which is why you just nodded before you went over to the corner and watched your brothers train.

As an hour passed, Dick and Damian stopped, which made you take the chance to finally train with them.

However, you seemed confused when you saw the two turning around and walking out of the batcave.

"He-Hey, Dick? I thought you and Damian were going to train with me."

You speak up in a timid tone, which the two clearly heard.

"Oh, about that. Sorry, (name), but we were already planning to go to the cafe for a break. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

Dick said with an 'apologetic' expression before he leaves with Damian.

Because of this, you never asked him to train with you again.

~~~~~

These were all easily common, but there were some moments when it scarred you.

One time, Tim was basically forced to bring you to a mission along with his friends.

As the patrol went on, you seemed to get distracted a bit when you spotted Conner having some trouble.

Because of this, you left the scene and quickly dived in and fought alongside the teenage Kryptonian. Thanks to you, everything was handled.

Conner thanked you before someone yelled out your name. This made you jolt as you turned to see an angry Tim storming over to you.

Before you can say anything, he cuts you in.

"What on earth were you doing?! I told you to stay where you are, and you just had to ignore everything I say, don't you?!"

He yells as if someone murdered his close family member.

This made you so shocked as Conner was stunned. When Cassie and Bart came over to the spot, they were both shocked to see their friend, yelling at his little sister.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, Tim. (name) didn't do anything wrong. I was the one who called her over to help me."

Conner defends you, but of course, Tim doesn't listen.

"Don't even try to defend her! She knows what she did! Oh, I am SO going to report this to Batman, so don't even try to cover yourself up!"

Tim said in a frustrated and angry tone towards you before he used his grappling hook and swooped down, leaving you behind with his friends.

"Hey, what the hell, asshole!"

Conner shouts out at his friend as he was shocked to him this angry.

He lets out a sigh before he looks over to see Cassie and Bart, comforting you as you are crying in their arms.

~~~~~

Yelling wasn't the only thing that you had to endure.

You even went through moments when things got a little too... physical.

It all happened when you were just trying to help someone in need.

You were walking down the hallway during the night as you just wanted a cup of water. As you were wandering down the hallway, you noticed some voices from someone's bedroom.

Jason's bedroom.

This made you curious as you got close to the door to hear Jason talking amongst himself as he sat on the edge of his bed.

He kept muttering stuff out of his mouth, which made you worried.

That is when you made a mistake by going inside.

"Jason...? Are you okay?"

You ask in a timid voice.

At that moment, Jason snaps his head towards you before everything starts to go blur. All you remember is him grabbing something like a pole type object before it was brought down towards your head.

And then, you woke up in your own bedroom, except you have a bandage wrapped around your head.

When you sat up, all you saw was Alfred, the family's loyal butler. No sign of your other family around, concerning about you.

Luckily, you recovered, and the wound went away after a month.

And, of course, Jason never apologized for what he did to you.

~~~~~

A few months was in, and no improvement has been made. You were always ignored. They made excuses of not wanting to spend time with you, and some of them actually hit you a few times.

All of that happened to your ten year old self.

But, did you give up on that spot? Nope.

You discovered on the internet what you can do to please your family to gain their attention. There were a lot of results, but the one that kept popping up the most was trying to reach your best achievements, which would result in them showing you more support from them.

And that's what you did.

You started to join in many after-school activities and studied all your might. It was tiring, and you almost passed out from exhaustion, but you kept going because you wanted at least your family to notice you.

The problem is that they never did.

They never congratulated you, celebrated on your accomplishment, and most of all, they didn't even give you a glance when you showed off.

All of that for nothing. Damn.

~~~~~

The breaking point wasn't because of all that. It was when someone else entered the family.

Duke Thomas.

A metahuman teenager whose parents died from the Joker Venom.

You thought that they might treat him the same way that they had treated you.

But, nothing.

Duke was showered with love, attention, and even praise.

The things that you never got when you came here.

Whenever you pass by whatever event that they're holding, you will always see them together. Being all happy, chatting, and laughing with one another.

They never do that when they're around you. Even on your birthdays. Actually, when was the last time they all celebrated your birthday?

At that moment, something inside you just snapped. Like, a loud crack echoes through your head that makes a loud ringing sound, kind of like a wake-up call.

Then, it all clicked.

They never cared about you.

They never even liked you.

The only reason why Bruce adopted you is because nobody wanted to.

~~~~~

The thoughts kept running through your head as you walked into an alleyway with a trash bag in hand.

Earlier today at school, you dropped out the clubs that you absolutely hated and pretty much just purposely laid back in your classes.

You feel empty.

When you finally reach the dumpster, you got on top of some stacked boxes because of your height and open the large lid.

You could only stare inside that had a lot of black colored trash bags. Your eyes were blank as you stared down inside.

That's when you muttered out.

"Why even bother...?"

With that, you tossed the trash bag that you were holding on into the dumpster.

After what it felt like hours, you finally got off of the boxes that you were standing on top of before you walked out of the alleyway.

As you walked away, something fell out of the trash bag that you threw out.

It was a white bat eared helmet.

The accessory that once matched with your costume.

That's right.

You were no longer Batgirl.

You never were, anyway.

•

Taglist: @somebodyrandom-613 @delias-stuff @endism @ragdol-666 @snowy-violet @sleepydhanie @missikkj @k1ttys-w0rld @box-of-kinderjoy @thetreefairypersonalblog @thelibraryofdeez @animegoddess15

(If you want to be on the taglist, let me know!)

#yandere #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam #batfamily #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #neglected reader #platonic #yandere dc

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sturnlsstuff · 6 months ago

Text

MASK ON 2 | ghostface!matt x fem!reader

— warnings: smut (with plot? kinda), dom!matt, sub!reader, eating pussy, face riding, public, creampie, crying, dirty talking, pet names, cursing, mentions of murder, mdni

— a/n: soooo... this is a long one. enjoy xx

part one | part three

~~~~

two weeks. two full weeks since it happened. with each passing day you wondered if it was real or maybe if you had imagined it. the killings stopped, people started to think that maybe the case had ended by itself and they were finally safe and free from the psycho ghostface killer. how naive.

the first night after, you couldn't sleep thinking of what happened and how you liked it, knowing you shouldn't. you shouldn't have evem let him in, but god. it was the best sex you've ever had. it fulfilled all of your fantasies. but he didn't call again, you haven't heard from him since that day, thinking maybe he got what he wanted and just disappeared. it should make you happy, he stopped killing innocent people and you also were... safe.

two days after, you found the camera he put in your room and decided to ruin it, so he couldn't watch you anymore. three days after, you came back to school after the weekend and acted natural as if your mind wasn't spinning with thoughts of him. few more days and you started being more chill, the weird feeling in your chest slowly leaving you. you really thought it was the end and you won't meet him ever again. yet the marks he left on your neck reminded you of him every day while trying to cover them with makeup, until eventually one day you noticed they were gone and sighed with relief. it's not like you didn't want to see him again, but that was the smartest option. you constantly remind yourself that you have no idea who this man is, that he literally murders people.

meanwhile matt was going insane. he noticed that you found one of his cameras and he couldn't watch you in your room anymore. but the satisfaction filled him when he realized you had no fucking clue about the camera in your bathroom. thats how he kept watching you. why was he silent? he didn't really know at first, just tried to process that he finally had you, and it was the best thing that ever happened to him. he couldn't get your noises out of his mind, your eyebrows knitted together, mouth slack opened and how fucking beautiful you looked while cumming on his dick. it was making him hard just by the memory of this. all he knew was that he wanted more.

thanks to the camera in your bathroom, matt found out about your... friend. while you were cleaning your toilet, you were talking to your bestfriend on the phone, about what you did the day before and with whom. matt literally broke his goddamn computer after hearing that. how could you even look, even think of any other guy when matt was the one who made you feel so good?? did this guy make you feel better? did he make you cum harder, be louder? matt couldn't stop thinking about it, he needed this to stop. to end this nightmare.

it was around 8pm, you were laying down on your bed reading a book when your phone buzzed. seeing the guy's name you hooked up recently with, you pick up.

"miss me already?" you ask smiling. it's not like you had any big plans with him, he was just good looking and... kept your mind busy, so you didn't think about that night two weeks ago. but instead of his voice, there's a low, hoarse laugh on the other end of the phone.

"oh, you have no idea, sweetheart."

you sit up immediately, goosebumps appearing on your body, your heart pounding like crazy right now. you would recognize this voice anywhere, it was printed in your brain since you two...

besides, no one else call you "sweetheart".

"w-what... how..."

"your friend borrowed me his phone. pretty nice of him, don't you think? though i'm not sure if he will need it anymore."

"what-- what do you mean by that?!" you could feel it. the fear taking over your body. did he do something? did he...

"meet me in the park nearby and you might find out." his voice was calm, maybe a bit too much. he was making you shiver, but you tried your best to keep your composure.

"why the fuck would i do that?"

"easy there." he murmurs, but he didn't sound as if he was annoyed. "if you wanna know, meet me by the fountain in 10. don't be late."

"but—

"tic tac, sweetheart." the call ends, leaving you concerned. it wasn't the best idea to go there but why wouldn't you? If he wanted to do something to you, you'd be dead a long time ago. he had plenty of opportunities to do so. you weren't afraid of him but of the unknown, not really knowing what to expect. nevertheless, you quickly pulled your hoodie over your head and quietly, making sure your parents won't hear anything, slipped out the window, finding yourself in a dark park ten minutes later. the park was not unknown to you, you came here many times with your parents when you were younger, and now every now and then you found yourself on one of the many benches that were here, together with your bestfriend to gossip and have a cigarette.

the old fountain was at the end of the park, in a place where no one usually went. you walked along the way there with your heart pounding in your chest, slowly starting to have doubts. earlier, when you left your room, you didn't think much, just wanted to find out why he had the other guy's phone. but now, walking down the alley in complete silence broken only by the sound of leaves blowing in the wind, you started being hesitant.

you finally got there and looked around, only one streetlamp that didn't illuminate much so every shadow you saw made you feel crazy. it made you feel like you were paranoid, but you waited, another ten minutes passed and you were ready to go back home when suddenly the sound of a branch breaking made your heart jump into your throat and look around, though you didn't notice anything special. cursing under your breath, you picked up a medium-sized stone from the ground, clutching it in your hand. just in case. you looked around again and that's when a low voice broke the silence, coming from behind you.

"gonna kill me with that rock?" a strangled scream leaves your mouth and you turn around, ready to attack the stranger. you swing but that's when you see who that was. it was him. you freeze, words stucking in your throat, the only thing you feel at this moment is the strong beating of your heart, when he is standing a few feets away from you. if not the ghostface mask, he would be barely visible, being dressed all in black again. "i suggest you to put that down."

slowly lowering your hand, you drop the stone back to the ground, accompanied by a quiet noise. stress begins taking over your body as you understand the position you are in. you were not far from home, it's true, but no one comes to this specific part of the park. no one would be really able to hear you either. matt knew it while you were completely oblivious until now. you keep looking at the man, almost waiting for his next move and noticing that he doesn't have his knife with him today. good sign?

"you ain't gonna start screamin', are ya?" his voice was dripping with irony.

"depends on what you'll do." your voice is a bit too weak for your liking, what doesn't go unnoticed by matt. a little smirk appearing on his face under the mask as he takes a few steps closer, but still keeping his distance. for now.

"hm, got a few ideas.." he hums, tilting his head to the side. you came to a conclusion that his mask looked a hundred times scarier in this situation, than when he was having it on in your room two weeks ago. "you're brave. coming here to meet me."

"what, didn't think i would?" a little frown appears on your face as you cross your arms over your chest.

"nah, i knew... i did..." he murmurs. seeing you again was making his control slipping away already, the way you looked so damn pretty even in the dark. the light from a nearby lantern highlighting your face features, the only thing annoying him was that he couldn't see much of your body since you had some sweatpants and a hoodie on. it crosses his mind that this needed to be changed quickly.

you take a deep breath, speaking up with too much confidence, trying to convince you both that his presence doesn't scare you and... excite you at the same time. "i found the camera in my room. you're sick."

"i'm sick?" he repeats, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he comes closer. "you weren't sayin' that when my dick was inside you. actually you couldn't really speak with my hand around your—"

"i remember." the small sliver of courage you had felt before, leaving you as you interrupt him mid-sentence. the memory of that night appearing in your mind. deciding it's not time for a conversation like this, you clear your throat, asking "-- why did you want me to come here? and how did you get this phone..."

"wouldn't think you need other's guy dick after that night. makes me wonder... i haven't left you unsatisfied, so what was the point of meeting with that douchebag?" you swallow realizing that he knew too much than you wanted him to.

"how do you know this..."

"that shouldn't be your concern now." he brushes a strand of hair from your face, sending a shiver down your body. "in my opinion you tried to replace me with him."

"in my opinion your ego is too big." the words accidentally slip from your mouth, making matt's smirk grow. you amused him.

"the last time you been sayin' something else was too big." his hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him, he wonders how you would act if he was without his mask. but it's not happening. "and talkin' to me like that? you either really dumb or brave." he hisses through his teeth. the way he talks to you, as if he is annoyed but intrigued at the same time, affects you more than you'd like to admit. his touch brings back another memory of his hand squeezing your throat in the same way, while his cock was buried deep inside your pussy. your body was reacting against your logic, the situation you found yourself in was terrifying, but his closeness and the way he was acting, sent a wave of heat between your legs. "you should use those pretty lips for somethin' else than talkin' back to me."

"i'm good at every field." you answer before thinking once again, but it hits matt intensely, his pants slowly growing tighter and more uncomfortable.

he lets out a groan. "careful sweetheart. i might have to find out myself." his hand lets go of your jaw and he takes one more step closer, now completely being in your personal space, his chest pressing against yours. you have to look up at him since he's taller, towering over you now. "you have no fear, do you? i could easily kill you right now."

"you promised not to hurt me." you repeat his own words he said two weeks ago in your bedroom. matt is surprised you even remembered that, he obviously didn't want to do anything to you, but the way you were believing him just because of one hook up was a bit insane to him. he hoped you weren't so stupid in other things in life. he hums, "so you trust me then, huh?"

"not even a bit." you say honestly, making him chuckle. of course. "but if you were about to kill me, i'd be dead already."

"only stupid characters in poor horror movies say some shit like that. they usually are proven wrong." he's amused by your confidence, it makes him turned on and being more attracted to you.

"we aren't in a movie." you mutter, it doesn't go unnoticed by matt how shaky your voice had become. you had a little fear in you, but it was overpowered by need. this goddamn mask was messing with your head, making your mind go blank.

"you look like the type of girl to be in a sequel." the smirk coming back into his face and in one quick movement, matt grabs your hips and pins you to the tree next to you two. the light of the street lamp didn't reach here, so you were hidden in the shadow, no one would be able to see you even if they wanted to. matt knew no one is gonna come here that late at night and especially to this part of the park, so he decided to be a little risky. "close your eyes."

you huff, adrenaline rushes through your body. "for what? you to disappear again?" a dry laugh rumbles through matt's chest, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he mutters, "stop bein' a smartass and do what i say." with a frustrated sigh, your eyes flutter shut, making matt smile. he wasn't really sure about what he's about to do, he was actually afraid, but all he could think about is how good you must taste. the kiss you two shared that night, even if it lasted just for a second, the feeling of your lips hadn't left him since. with a deep breath he takes off the ghostface mask, causing a feeling of insecurity in his body, he was a completely different person without it. he felt like that shy version of himself again who couldn't be funny or make a move while talking to you at that party when he first saw you. but regardless, he swallowed all his fears and pressed the mask into your hand, a frown appearing between your eyebrows as you felt the material.

"d-don't...." he immediately says when he notices you wanted to open your eyes. "keep 'em closed f'me, a'ight?" licking his lips, he shamelessly stares at your face, your perfect features. and those lips... those big plump lips, god, you were driving him crazy. you nod, keeping your eyes shut as you ask, "is that... what did you put in my hand?"

"my mask." his fingers trails over your jaw, making the goosebumps appear on your skin once again. your back scraping against the rough bark as his face is inches away from yours, his breath is heavy, coming in short, heated bursts tickling your skin. his body pinning you in place, and a thrill shoots through you as his hand snakes up to your neck, caressing your throat with a touch that's both gentle and possessive. "but.. why... uh, so you're without it?" you stumble over your words, but matt is quick to shut you up, "jus' stop talkin' so goddamn much." he crashes his lips against yours. the feeling sends a shiver down your spine, you were able to taste his lips once again and for longer this time. at first the kiss was gentle, but matt was too desperate, the same feelings accompanied him as those in your room. his hand on your neck tightens, pulling you closer, his now hard dick brushing against your thigh, stealing a quiet whine from you. being able to hear you again, matt feels his control slipping away pretty quickly, starting exploring your mouth with his tongue. his hand on your hip tightening, his fingers pressing into your flesh as he kisses you more urgently now, as if he was afraid you might disappear. the heat pooling in your chest and pussy makes you more needy with each second.

"s-shitt.... wait...." you mutter between kisses, making matt frown but he continues kissing you. "hold on—" he hears you repeating again, so he breaks the kiss, trying to catch his breath, leaning his forehead against yours. "what?" he asks confused.

"it's just... we're in public--"

"who the fuck cares?" he hums, making sure your eyes are still closed and his lips move down to your neck, blazing a hot trail across your skin, making you gasp softly.

"we aren't... supposed to be doin' that—" matt grins hearing your words and he mutters against your skin, "and who said that? relax, sweetheart, it's late at night, no one comes to this part of park anyway..." his teeth nipping your skin as he marks you, claiming as his. your fingers automatically tangles in matt's hair while his hands move up under your shirt. "i need... to taste you... right fuckin' now—"

have you lost your mind? probably. but it was already obvious. that's why you gave him a small nod and matt's hands began pulling your sweatpants down to your knees. the urge to open your eyes, to see him, it's all getting too much but you grab onto the last bit of control you have and leave them closed. your underwear follows your pants, matt is already on his knees in front of you, his eyes are fixated on you as he runs his finger over your slippery folds. "fuckkkk... all this f'me already?" he smirks, "so soaked..."

you tremble at the feeling of his finger, spreading your legs more, light gusts of wind against your heat making you shiver. "gonna be a good girl f'me and promise to keep those pretty eyes closed?" he asks looking up at you, starting to kiss up your inner thigh. "y-yes." your answer isn't enough for him, he stops just above your dripping entrance, his breath tickling your skin and making you squirm. "promise." he repeats.

"fuck, i promise! i promise, okay? just—" the desperation in your tone, he doesn't have to hear it twice. suddenly you feel his tongue, at first it's just a slight lick as if he was testing the waters, but it was enough to make you lose your mind. his tongue drags lazily through your folds, before he whispers, "oh shit, you taste so fuckin' good..." that's the only thing you hear before he literally starts attacking your pussy with his mouth, like something just snapped inside him, he got immediately addicted. moans escaping you, his fingers digging into your hips keeping you in place while his mouth moves along your folds, his nose perfectly rubbing onto your clit.

"oh— ohhh my...." your fingers tangle in his hair, the movement makes him moan softly against you as he looks up at you, feeling the precum leaking from his tip began to make a small wet stain on his jeans. it was heaven to have you like this. his dreams coming true. he desperately licks the slick out of you, not wanting to miss anything. "mmmm, fuck—" he mutters between licks as you breathing gets heavier. "taste like a fuckin'.... candy... my favorite candy...." his words blur as your ears start to ring because of the overwhelming pleasure. your hips starts slighty moving on their own, as whines and moans leave your lips.

matt can hear the way you're responding to his actions, the sounds you're making and the way you're moving. it only fuels his desire for you even more, as he's determined to make you feel as good as possible. he moves his tongue over you, flicking and swirling around. "mhmm, you like that, sweetheart??"

"please-- oh my god..." gripping the mask in your hand tighter, you move your hips against him again, what doesn't go unnoticed by him. "yeah, thaaat's it—" he watches the pleasure on your face, it only makes him harder by the sounds coming from your mouth, but tonight he wanted to please you. "--ride my face... just like that-" his warm tongue moves through your pussy, swiveling onto your clit and sucking on it, making you screech. "fuck! i— oh--" you stutter as you start desperately grinding your hips against his face, your hand twisting in his hair only makes him more determined, as he continues lapping up your juices, a quiet groan leaves his lips at the way you taste.

"holy fuck— please--" the mask falls from your grasp onto the ground and your other hand grabs his hair, as you begin to speed up the movement of your hips, your head tilting back and your skin occasionally brushing against the hoarse tree bark. "yeahh—" his words are muffled by your movements. "can't get enough of you.... mmm, s'good... all for me—"

matt laps at your clit, your legs starting to tremble as your stomach drops over and over again, "i can't..." you whine desperately, grinding against him harder, the tip of his tongue darting onto your swollen bud. "oh... 'm close—"

"thaaaats it, cmon, sweetie..." slurps and flicks of his tongue echoing through the quiet park, your loud moans and curses mixed with his groans, as he feels you clench around his tongue, his fingers gripping your hips so tight it leaves marks. your mouth dropping wide open, the knot in your stomach releasing as you let out a scream, feeling tears coming down your face. matt was watching you as your hips stuttered, he helped you grind against his face some more so you could fully ride out your orgasm. more juices linger down onto his tongue, he desperately licks every drop, his eyes rolling back from the pleasure, "oh my god..."

stopping your movements completely, your body slowly relaxes as he kisses your bud, pulling away from you and opening his eyes again to see your flushed face. "you're so fuckin' sexy... tasting so good.." you let go of matt's hair when he slowly gets up from the ground. "wanna know how fuckin' sweet you are?" you don't even have the strength to respond, all you feel is his now messy hair caressing your face as he pulls you into a kiss, slowly moving his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you could feel his wet chin against yours meaning your juices being all over it. "made me so goddamn hard..." he groans against your lips, breaking the kiss, his heavy breathing mixed with yours. you felt so tempted to just open your eyes, to see the face of a guy who makes you feel as good as nobody else but you can't.

he looks at your face one last time before he picks up his mask from the ground and puts it on his face. it was so different, so better, seeing you with his own eyes and not through this fuckass mask, but it was necessary. "you can open your eyes." still recovering from the intense release, your eyes flutter open just as he gently pulls up your underwear and sweatpants. his mask is on again, making you feel a hint of disappointment, you had a small hope that maybe he would let you see his face, but no. "made you speechless, huh?" you don't have to see his face to know the smirk on his face.

"n-no i just... damn" you mutter making him chuckle, barely being able to stand on your shaky legs, so you lean against the tree for support. matt brushes a strand of hair from your face, still frustrated and turned on, but he didn't have time for anything more right now. his goal today was to make you understand that no other man could give you as much pleasure as he did. he wanted you to become as addicted as he was to you, for you to be crawling back to him for more everytime.

"was he able to make you feel like this?" matt tilted his head to the side as you frown, realizing what he was asking about, and you shake your head. but there was one thing you needed to know, "did you..."

he knew what you were about to ask, it made his smile widen and he took one step closer, pulling the phone out of his pocket and waving it in front of your eyes. the crease between your eyebrows widens as you look at the phone. "where does this awful taste in men come from?"

"what?" you ask confused as he shoves the phone into your hand, "you were just a bet for him. all of this is in his messages." the switch in his tone didn't go unnoticed by you, matt starts feeling the same annoyance he felt when he found out about this. the fact that anyone would even think of doing something like that to you was pissing him off. "check yourself."

your eyes move from him to the phone as matt continues, "such a sweet girl yet the guys you pick suck."

"yeah, you don't say." there's a hint of sarcasm in your tone as you stare at the phone. "how did you know about him...?"

matt just smiles, running his thumb over your lower lip, drawing your attention back to him. that look you give him, even in the dark, the way your eyes sparkle... he was going feral for you.

"jus' look what he was sayin' about you. i had to kill him." he starts backing away slowly, his eyes still on you, "no one messes with my girl."

you keep opening and closing your mouth, too stunned to speak as you watched him moving away and after a while he disappeared around the corner. you wanted to call after him, ask him questions but... you stared at the place where he disappeared, still feeling his lips on you, the way he touched you, and now leaving you with... dissatisfaction.

you craved more.

———————————

a/n: i tagged people who wanted a part 2 under the first one!! lmk if you wanna stay on the taglist or if you want me to remove you, it's completely fine!

@xaristhings @certifiedstarrr @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @chrislovespepsi

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturnlsstuff ❦ [ghostface!matt]#sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x fem reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x fem reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturnlsstuff

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yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

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Letter from your Yandere Valentine

You. You. It's always been you. Tempting, treacherous you.

God, I hated you at first. Always so pretty, so put together, so fucking alive. You had it all - the friends, the good grades, the effortless charm.

Every damn day I would spend hours imagining what it would be like to have just one day in your body. Just one day where I could be... perfect. Or as close to it as one person can get. You don't get it. You've never had to long for something as much as I have. Never had to be the loser, the kid at the back of class, the one person without a Valentine's card in their locker.

I know you had your own problems too. But it's total bull to say all problems are created equal. What did you have to worry about? Denting daddy's Mercedes?

I hated you. But... I wanted you. I still want you.

We ended up at the same college. I don't think you know that. Thousands of undergrads, why would you notice me? Even if we did go to high-school and elementary together, I was probably just a face in the back of your mind. As unnoticeable and unimportant as any background character.

I thought college would dim your sparkle somehow. Maybe you'd be one of those people who peakin high school and then it's all down hill from there. Chain smoking and cheap liquor and payday loans. I wanted that, honestly. To see you ripped down.

But no. You thrived. Had the picture perfect college experience. When I was stuck working two jobs to cover my tuition, you were studying in some fancy café and going out every weekend. When I was so haggard with stress that I could barely see straight, you were at pilates or out hiking or lounging in a sauna.

How is that fair? Hmm? I put in the work until my hands were fucking raw and all I got for it was minimum wage and leftovers.

And don't get me started on Valentine's. Fucking Valentine's. I'm almost glad they beheaded the guy way back when. I'd do the exact same thing if I could.

Every Valentine's day, you'd have a date. Rarely ever the same person, but somehow all of them had a propensity for huge gestures. Do you remember the one guy who hired a whole horse and carriage for you? Or the girl who took you on a late season ski trip?

Do you want to know what I got for Valentine's? Cafeteria mashed potatoes and mandatory overtime. Romantic, right? I'm swooning at the memory.

I tried to work on myself. Tried to overcome the differences in our birth and get on your level. What an education in disappointment that was. Turns out it's pretty fucking hard to spend two hours at the gym and three in the sauna when you're scheduled to work fifty hours a week and still attend lectures.

You graduated with honours. With a dozen glittering trophies for volunteering and leadership and student organising. You couldn't even hold them all.

I think that was the day I hated you the most. I couldn't stop thinking that should be me.

I thought I was rid of you after that. Thought I could finally go about my life without constantly comparing myself to an impossible ideal. Ha! As if I'd get so lucky.

I saw you again on at the start of February. Newest hire at the office, bright eyed and busy tailed despite the miserable fucking weather.

What are the chances of that? We're both working at the same company, in the same department.

I expected to hate you all over again. But then you introduced yourself to me. Actually shook my hand.

And oh, how I understand those idiots and their grand gestures. Their desperate need to please you.

All my life I've watched you from afar. Seen other people dazzled by you and never fully understood why. Always wondered why I seemed to be the only person bitter and jealous towards you.

I get it now.

You sparkle. You look in my eyes and I feel like I'm part of your world, like I belong in your fancy country club and at your VIP table. When you look at me, I don't feel insignificant anymore.

How do you expect me to let that go? I've spent decades watching from the sidelines and now I finally get a taste. How am I supposed to be normal about it?

I can't let you go. I don't care what it takes, I'm going to be part of your life.

It was always supposed to be me. Not your parade of dates, not your one night stands, none of them. It was always supposed to be me.

Why else would our lives run parallel? Why else can I always find you in a crowded room?

You're meant to be mine. I'm meant to be yours. I don't care what I have to do to make it happen.

Your Valentine,

#Yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #Yandere valentine #Valentine's Day

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covenofagatha · 2 months ago

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Practice makes perfect (Part 3)

A month later, will Agatha keep pretending like nothing happened?

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: reader has a penis, cock cage, fingering, handjob, orgasm denial, degradation, semi-public sex

It’s a month later before you see Agatha again. Your internship ended, you’re back in school, and you haven’t had a good reason to stop by your dad’s work, despite really trying hard to think of one.

Until now.

He had called you that morning and barked at you to swing by his apartment and bring you the files he left on the kitchen counter as his new wife was busy shopping or screwing her personal trainer—you know either is just as likely.

So you walk the familiar path from the elevator to his office, very visibly scanning the room. People you worked closely with this summer raise their hand to greet you, but you completely ignore them because you only have one person on your mind.

You see her through the blinds on the glass doors to the office adjacent to your father’s, the lines on her forehead etched deep as she types something out on her computer.

There’s a twist in your stomach and a tightening in your pants as Agatha’s eyes flick up to meet yours and the memory of her cunt wrapped around your cock has your cheeks heating up furiously.

She looks completely unaffected; you could be anyone else from the way she gets back to work without a care in the world.

Except you can see a light flush in her face and it makes your cock twitch because you know she’s thinking about you too.

The morning after the last night in the Hamptons had been uneventful, almost like nothing had happened. You had woken up in Agatha’s bed and rolled over, fingertips sliding across to seek out her warmth, but she had already gotten out of bed. She came out of the bathroom, completely dressed and carrying her travel pack of toiletries, as you finally sat up and rubbed at your tired eyes.

Agatha whisked you out of bed, hissing, “Remember, this never happened.”

And that had been all.

Has she been reminiscing about fucking you every night since then? Has she touched herself while thinking about you? Has she been counting down the days until she sees you again?

You’d be embarrassed to admit that you’d done all three—many times. Agatha is your craving now, your addiction, and you need her more than the air you breathe at this point.

Your dad yells your name and you think you see the sliver of a smile on Agatha’s face. You quickly dart to his office and he doesn’t even so much as look up when you place the files on his desk.

“Took you long enough,” he says grumpily and you know that’s as much gratitude as you’ll get from him. Never mind the fact that you drove all the way back to the city and you have class in two hours just to bring him a few papers he forgot.

“I guess I’ll see you later?” you prompt, trying to stall for just a second so you can think of a reason to talk to Agatha on your way out.

He takes off his reading glasses and settles back in his chair, studying you. Finally, he waves a hand. “The fundraiser thing is this weekend. Why don’t you come to it? It’ll be good to have family there, you know, for morale. Maybe we can put you in charge of something—how about the bread?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course if he is going to give you any responsibility at all, it would be the thing that even a seven year old could figure out. “Yeah, that’ll be great, dad,” you say through tight lips.

He grimaces like he’s going to add something else but instead, picks up a magazine and holds it up to his face. You take the hint and scurry out of his office.

Even though you don’t have an excuse, you open the door to Agatha’s room anyway and poke your head in. She raises an eyebrow through her large, black glasses, unimpressed, and you ignore how it affects you.

“Can I help you?” she asks caustically, looking at you like you’re a piece of gum that got stuck on her shoe. Hot.

You step in and draw the blinds on the door before closing the others on the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that make her office seem like a fishbowl so no one in the cubicles outside can see in.

“Are you going to the thing this weekend?” you respond casually before strolling over to perch on the edge of her desk. She’s wearing a brown tweed coat over a blue shirt and black pants and her dark hair tumbles down her back.

The memory of grinding your cock between her tits flashes in your mind and you shift your weight to hide the budding erection between your legs.

Agatha doesn’t miss it, of course, and her gaze drops down before she scoffs. “Really? I’m surprised your cock hasn’t fallen off with how much jerking off you must be doing.”

She smirks at your muffled whimper and your pants grow tighter.

But Agatha’s caught off guard when you sink to your knees in front of her. You’re feeling dizzy and not thinking clearly at all and you just know that you need her so you start to crawl the last few inches to her chair when she sticks out a leg and stops you.

A choked gasp leaves your mouth—her short black pump is right against the bugle in your pants. “Agatha,” you breathe, looking up at her with heat in your eyes and mouth wide-open.

She simpers and presses harder, making you keel forward. Your mind goes blank.

“God, you’re insatiable, aren’t you?” she hisses and you nod brainlessly and hump up at her shoe like a bitch in heat. If anyone were to walk in right now, you would be caught in quite the compromising position.

Agatha grabs your hair and forces you to look at her, digging her heel into your cock and making you moan pathetically. There’s drool dripping down your chin out of the corner of your lips. The smell of her perfume and your sweat makes you drunk and you babble something nonsensically.

She pulls on your hair harder when you rut shallowly against her, small noises falling from your mouth, and if she keeps it up, you’re not going to last much longer.

“All it takes is one look from me and you’re tripping over yourself,” she snarls and you whine quietly, pawing at her shin. The look she gives you is lethal. “You need to learn to be patient and not be so fucking embarrassing.”

Your cock pulses and a stain spreads on your pants from the precum that spits out while you swear under your breath.

Agatha swiftly grabs your chin, pinching it so your jaw hurts slightly. “You know what I think would help a spoiled brat like you learn?”

“What?” you choke out, both excited and scared.

There’s a devilish glint in her eye when she leans forward until your noses almost touch. “A cock cage.”

The wind gets kicked out of your lungs and your ribs rattle with your sharp inhale.

“You—you’re going to buy me a cock cage?” you rasp and fuck, it’s going to be torture if you know anything about Agatha.

Her face contorts into something wicked. “And have that on my bill for this month? No. You’re going to buy yourself one so you can always remember just how pathetic you are.”

She dips forward, the knee on her outstretched leg bending, and reaches into your front pocket to pull out your wallet. You gasp when she moves her fingers and touches your cock lightly and you rock into her shoe again.

Agatha places it on the desk and opens the personal laptop before typing something in. You wait with bated breath, trying to control your pulsing cock, when she tilts the computer toward you and you groan.

It’s a sex toy website open to a page with about twenty different cages. You have to manually suck in air and push it back out because you’ve forgotten how to breathe automatically.

“Fuck,” you say, and is the room spinning or is that just the endorphins giving you a high unlike anything you’ve ever felt?

Agatha hums nonchalantly as she scrolls though, pausing every now and then and hovering the mouse over an option, but then shakes her head and moves on. You’re panting now and you wonder if she can feel your hot breath through the fabric on her legs.

She clicks to the next page and you see it the exact second she does—a purple, steel tube that gleams in the picture.

“This one,” she decides without even looking at you for your opinion, even though you would have nothing to say except yes, please.

She adds it to the cart and with each number of your credit card that she types in, you swear she presses her heel harder into your cock so by the time she’s done, you’re furiously grinding against her and so fucking close to coming. Your pants are a light blue color and there will definitely be a visible mark but you couldn’t care less.

You rattle off your address in a shaky voice and you hope, wish, pray that Agatha will take pity on you and let you come, either like this or maybe with more—her hand, her cunt, fuck, her mouth. You think you would die if she wrapped her perfect lips around your cock.

Your cock throbs again and she smirks before moving her shoe from side to side and making you keen at the friction.

“You’re incorrigible,” she sighs and your whimper is pitiful. “The cage will be at your place tomorrow. You will bring me the key and then you will wear it to the fundraiser and show me that you can be a good girl and keep your cock to yourself, got it?”

“Yes,” you gasp. You make a mental note to buy her a nice necklace to put the key on, just in case she wants to show it off. A physical demonstration that she owns you.

Agatha smiles sweetly and pats your cheek before placing the order and pressing hard against your cock one last time.

With a long moan, you come in your pants and Agatha just rolls her eyes.

—

The cage gets shipped to your apartment the next day and you chuckle at the thought of Agatha ordering it express to get it there that fast.

You take it out of the package, turning the cool metal over in your palm, and your cock already twitches. The key is small and gold and you salivate at the thought of it around Agatha’s neck, resting between her cleavage.

The second you had gotten home yesterday, you had ordered her a diamond tennis necklace. It had cost about half the median salary but you hadn’t thought twice before ordering it because it would be worth it to see the light catch the jewelry. She’s claiming you with this cage and you want to show that off.

Only the best for the woman who owns you figuratively, and now, literally.

You call her and put it on speakerphone, listening to the dial ring. You picture her in her office, smirking down at your contact card, and keeping you waiting until the last possible minute. You have to shift to hide the tent in your pants even though you’re the only one at your home.

“What?” she asks irritatedly when she finally picks up. Why does that make you harder?

Clearing your throat, you examine your reflection in the steel. “Um, it came in,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck, Agatha—”

“Put it on,” she orders swiftly and you gasp.

You get off the bed onto shaky knees and unzip your pants. Agatha stays quiet on the line and it feels like you should say something to break the silence, but you can’t think of a word to utter. Your cock throbs when you pull it out of your pants, already half-hard, and you slide the cage over yourself and lock it.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper at the cold constriction and Agatha chuckles. More blood flows south and then you wince because it hurts if your cock gets too hard.

“Good girl,” she hums and you bite down on your hand, hoping the pain distracts you from her.

It doesn’t.

“Agatha, can I please—can I please take it off?” you pant, submissive to a flaw because surely she can’t stop you from doing what you want.

But you want her permission, you need it. If you’re her good girl, maybe she’ll let you touch her again.

She muses and then laughs cruelly and you whine high-pitched. “No,” she says simply and you’re torn between obeying or ripping the cage off because of the agony you’re in.

“Agatha, please,” you try again, sounding even more pathetic and desperate because maybe she likes that.

It would seem that she does not. “No,” she spits out, sharper this time. “You are going to learn how to wait for something for once in your life. Keep it on from now until this weekend and I expect the key in my hand before the fundraiser. And maybe, maybe, if you listen, I’ll let you take your cock out.”

“How do you know I won’t just unlock it myself before then?”

She hangs up without answering because you both know that’s not going to happen.

—

Saturday, one hour before the annual fundraiser, you knock on Agatha’s apartment door.

“Just a second,” she calls, clearly not expecting you or she wouldn’t be so cordial, and you shift your weight to your other leg while you wait. In one hand, you have a bottle of wine and in the other, the box with the necklace and the key.

There’s a nervous feeling in your stomach—this feels like something real. In the Hamptons, it was a vacation that felt a world away. It felt removed from daily life and you had believed that what had happened with you and Agatha was merely a consequence of being away for a week and a much-needed stress reliever.

But this? Going to the event together with a chastity cage around your cock and the key to it around her neck?

What does this mean?

Agatha opens the door and you’re instantly in pain from the restricted hardening of your cock. She’s wearing a long red dress that dips low and shows off her cleavage and her hair is still in rollers, light make-up on her face.

She peers down at your black pants and you squirm. It had taken you forever to find the right suit to wear that would hide the bulge of the cage but you wonder if she can see it. Does she get the same thrill from it as you do?

She steps to the side and begrudgingly lets you in as you hand her the wine and the box. You saunter into the spacious living room, dragging a finger against the spines of all the books she keeps, as her footsteps traipse after you.

“Oh,” she breathes and you turn around to find her looking into the now-open box. The diamonds refract the light from the large windows onto her face and make her gray-blue eyes pop. Your breath catches in your throat.

“It’ll go with your dress,” you say hoarsely as she lifts out the necklace.

She regards you with something akin to fondness and she holds it out for you to take before spinning so her back is to you. You swallow roughly and reach it gently around her neck before clasping it and then lean down to breathe in her spicy perfume.

Agatha shivers at your hot air on her back and there’s a line of goosebumps that appears. You’re about to run your tongue over them when she faces you again and your eyes immediately drop down.

The necklace comes down under her collarbone and the key rests vertically on her sternum. You’d be dizzyingly hard if not for the cage but you wonder if she can see the desire obviously written on your face.

“Take it out,” she whispers and you move faster than you ever have to unzip yourself.

A hush falls over the already quiet room as you pull the purple metallic tube out of your pants. Agatha audibly exhales before squatting down to get a better look. You can see your reflection and hers in it and you don’t miss the dilation of her pupils.

She reaches out with a perfectly manicured finger and taps the metal three times. The vibrations travel through your cock and up your spine and your eyes water.

The last few days have been absolute torture—every single thing that reminds you of Agatha has gotten you hard. You’ve been getting erections now just at the sight of a dark-haired woman walking down the street because you think it might be her.

And now, she’s standing here, a hair away from your cock with the key to your salvation around her neck, and she’s not doing anything.

“Agatha, can I—can you please—”

She stands up and puts a finger against your lips and you groan dejectedly. You move to put your cock back in your pants but she tuts before pulling a small tube of lipstick from her purse that’s sitting on the couch. She bends back over to look at her reflection in the cage and carefully applies a rosy-red tint that matches the shade of her dress exactly.

“All good,” she says cheerfully and pats the metal, sending shockwaves through your body, before placing the tube of lipstick on the coffee table.

Agatha strolls into her bedroom where you’re not sure if you’re welcome, so you just pace out in the living room and try not to look too nosy as you snoop through the photo albums on the bookshelves.

“Ready to go?” she says, reemerging from her room, now with her wavy, dark hair flowing freely. You stare, stunned at how ethereal she looks, as she breezes by you. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

You chase after her to catch her in the elevator and then without permission, you hop in her company car. The driver looks at you in the rearview mirror but doesn’t say a word. As the boss’s daughter, you can get away with pretty much anything.

Agatha taps her nails against her purse and looks out the window the entire way to the event center. Her silence—like she can’t even be bothered to talk to you—only has you shifting restlessly next to her, hoping to get her attention. You can’t stop staring at the key hanging around her neck and you need her to unlock you tonight.

You’d act up in an attempt to rile her up, but you can’t be sure that Agatha wouldn’t just throw the key in the Hudson River so that your cock will never get freedom or relief.

The thought of her condescending smirk as she draws out a I warned you makes your cock twitch painfully in its cage and you whimper. Agatha gives you the smallest of glances and you can see her eyes twinkling.

She’s fucking enjoying this.

You’re half-tempted to slide a hand up her dress to find out just how much, but once again, the fear of never being able to put your cock inside her ever again stops you. Damn her and the hold she has on you, but you also never want it to stop.

The driver pulls up in front of the venue, where the red carpet has been rolled out and you see your dad, step-mom, Rio, and a few other executive employees already being photographed. The fundraiser, a ball for the creative endowment fund your father started, is kind of a big deal in the city, just like him. Hence, he pulls out all the spots.

No one will ever be able to say your father isn’t a charitable man. No one except those who actually know him, that is.

“Go out that way,” Agatha murmurs and nods toward your car door. It’s on the other side so you won’t be as visible to the paparazzi.

You pout mockingly. “You don’t want everyone to see us walking in together? Come on, I’ll even hold your hand.”

Agatha snorts before running a finger along the length of the key—a reminder to behave. You gulp audibly and nod before sneaking out on the other side of the car.

Jogging around it, you make it just in time to watch the camera people turn around to find Agatha and you almost get blinded by the flashes. She gracefully glides through the crowds to pose against the company logo backdrop with Rio, who grins wolfishly.

You’re content to just ogle her—will any of the photos show that? You’d like to get it framed—when your dad calls your name. He beckons you forward and you try to shake him off, but he keeps insisting so you reluctantly give in and duck beneath the red stanchion to join him. You take a few pictures with him, with him and your step-mom, and then by yourself. There’s absolutely no reason you should have to take any by yourself, but your father requested it, much to your chagrin.

This is the one part of your life that you’re still not used to. The money, the cars, the penthouse—easy. But having thirty people take your picture that may or may not be on the front page of tomorrow’s paper? It’s a lot. Your dad used to always critique your smile or the way you stood or the way your shirt wasn’t tucked in just right and that left an indelible mark on you.

Even now, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re doing something wrong all the time when it comes to the press. What if your blazer is crooked? What if your hair is parted wrong? What if the bulge in your pants from the cage is visible? You feel nauseous at the thought of your dad reading a paper with that as the headline.

It feels like your skin is crawling and you think you’ve been posing for about three hours when there’s a warm presence against your shoulder. You tilt your head and smile a real, genuine smile.

Agatha tucks an arm around you and you gratefully curl into her, but not too much that it’ll get people talking. She’s been around your family enough to know what your dad can be like, but she’s never been this outward about being on your side.

“Chin up, eyes open, straight face,” she mumbles and you watch as she sets her face stoic. Her cheekbones are sharp enough to cut glass, the crook in her nose stands out on her side profile, and her eyebrows are neatly combed. You’re so distracted that you don’t even hear the clicks of the cameras until Agatha glances at you in her periphery and pinches your side.

You straighten up and hold your expression steady. There’s a few catcalls, but mostly encouraging whistles and you stand together for a few minutes like that until she pushes you along the rest of the way.

“Thank you,” you whisper, finally feeling like you can breathe again. She squeezes your side as an answer before letting go once you get inside.

The venue is spacious, with about thirty round tables neatly set up in front of the large stage where your father will make a speech. A luxurious sparkling chandelier hangs in the middle of the room. Waiters walk around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne.

You turn to make a quip to Agatha about champagne and her tits but she’s not there. Scanning the room, you finally spot her talking to Rio while absentmindedly eating bruschetta. There’s something about watching her while she’s so focused and lost in the conversation that makes your cock twitch.

Not that that’s new.

She picks up a glass from a waitress that pauses next to her and raises it to her red lips for a sip. You wonder what it would be like to press your mouth to the lipstick stain she’ll leave behind—a fleeting, ghost of a kiss, but the only thing you might get from her.

You watch her move her hands animatedly around and her veins flex and your mouth waters. She’s doing something so simple and yet, your cock behaves the same as it would if she was touching you.

Agatha must feel your eyes on her because she suddenly looks over and meets your gaze. You keep staring unabashedly, waiting for her to scold you silently, but she just raises her champagne in a wordless toast. Your cheeks heat up and the cold metal hurts your cock.

She begins to fiddle with the key, sliding it up and down the glittering necklace and turning it over her fingers and it has you practically drooling.

A reminder that she owns you, cock and all. You don’t even care if she doesn’t see it like that because you do and that’s enough.

Your cock is pressing very uncomfortably against its confines, trying and failing to grow, and it’s making you want to scream. You can hardly take it anymore and you’re sure that if you don’t get relief soon, you might actually explode.

So you walk over casually and pause next to her, waiting for her to acknowledge you, but she’s talking to Rio. She doesn’t even look at you and you hate how hot her indifference is.

Agatha wasn’t so indifferent when you were eating her out a month ago, when you were grinding on her tits, when you were fucking her. And fuck—fuck, now you’re thinking about it and your blood rushes downwards so fast that you get dizzy and you grab onto Agatha’s arm before you can think about it.

She stops talking immediately and glares at you. Rio raises an eyebrow and you step away while clearing your throat.

“I just wanted to ask where you got your necklace from, Agatha,” you say, inwardly cursing when your voice squeaks.

Agatha gingerly touches two fingers to it. “Oh, this old thing? It was someone’s pathetic attempt at wooing me.”

A thrill runs through you. “Did it work?” You search Agatha’s eyes for something that tells you if you’re off-base. Rio is right there and the tension between you and Agatha is thick enough to cut with a knife.

Agatha softens. “Jury’s still out.”

Oh, fuck. If she keeps this up, you might start to think that she actually likes you.

Agatha straightens up and looks at Rio before gently laying a hand on her arm. “Would you excuse me? I need to go to the bathroom.”

Rio nods affirmatively and turns to you like she’s planning on starting a conversation, but your eyes are glued to Agatha as she sashays away. The way her hips sway in that dress that accentuates her ass perfectly…if you weren’t caged you would’ve needed to bring several back up pairs of pants.

She stops when she gets to the corner that the bathroom is on the other side of and looks back at you just briefly.

You freeze—is that an invitation?

There’s a pounding sound in your ears and it drowns out everything Rio is saying. You’re in a trance and you don’t even think you give an excuse before you trail after Agatha. Someone might be calling your name, your dad perhaps, but you brush it off and keep walking.

Agatha’s touching up her makeup in the mirror when you quietly shut the door behind you. There’s no one else in there and you quickly turn the lock. She meets your eyes in her reflection and scoffs before turning around.

“I bet you’re here with more of that pathetic pleading for me to let you come?” she tsks and that’s originally why you thought you followed.

But now, seeing her all dolled up and heavenly, you just want her. You step closer to her like you’re not in control of your own body before slowly reaching out and hiking up her dress, giving her plenty of time to stop you.

She doesn’t say a word, just keeps her eyes trained on the door like she’s still worried someone will come in.

When the fabric is bunched up at her hips, she leans back against the counter to make it easier for you to slide a hand between her legs. She’s wearing a pair of black, lacy panties and when you touch the gusset of them, you almost fall to your knees.

She’s wet. Almost completely soaked through. You whimper and she tries to keep composure as you begin sliding two fingers across her covered slit.

“Did you wear these for me?” you ask smugly.

“You’re pathetic,” she hisses without her usual malice.

“And you like this,” you say quietly, attempting to meet her eyes but she keeps looking away. Instead, you stare at her red lips as they curl. “You like having me in the palm of your hand? I bet you like that key around your neck as much as I do. You’re so fucking wet.”

She yanks on your hair and finally looks at you. “Then fucking do something about it.”

A flash of pleasure goes straight to your cock and you whimper as you push her underwear to the side. After a bit of fumbling, you find her clit and rub small circles and there’s a rosy red stain on her top teeth from sinking them into her lip. You watch in awe as her face contorts with pleasure.

You slide a finger down through her folds and slowly push it into her opening—her mouth drops open before she quickly snaps it shut, determined not to give you any satisfaction.

Too late, because your cock is straining against the cage and you wonder if anyone’s ever broken out of it before just from an erection.

A broken moan escapes her when you curl your finger up into her, pressing against the soft, spongy spot and you start a steady pace of thrusting inside her. Your other hand rests on the sink counter behind her, where both her hands are gripping like she’s resisting the urge to touch you.

You wish she wouldn’t.

“Fuck,” Agatha breathes when you fit another finger into her and your thumb slips against her clit with how wet she is. Her walls clench around you and draw you in and you pick up the pace, carefully watching her.

She feels you staring again and this time, her eyes flicker down to your lips before darting away. Your breath catches, your heart stops, and you start to lean in like she’s magnetic.

“Don’t you dare,” she whispers but she’s begun to move in too and your eyelids flutter closed.

Your brain goes white the second her lips touch yours and you reach your other hand up to cup her cheek gently. It’s just light brushes against each other at first and your fingers pause inside her to focus on her light olive oil and garlic taste from the bruschetta she was eating earlier.

But then she wraps both her arms around your neck, whispers “Don’t stop,” and slides her tongue into your mouth. Your hand moves to grip her hip and press her against the counter and she moans into your mouth.

It’s a mess of teeth and tongue and lips and you can feel her walls gripping you with a broken rhythm while you try to keep your pace from faltering. Your cock is positively aching right now but it’s the furthest thing from your mind when Agatha bites your lower lip. You whine and she swallows it and her nails rake down your back over your blazer.

She hikes a leg up over your hip so you can get further inside her and you’re rewarded with a high-pitched noise that you’ll still be reminiscing about on your wedding night. Her kisses get sloppier and she’s getting closer—you can feel it.

So you double-down your efforts, fitting a third finger into her and earning another moan, and rub at her clit hard.

Agatha spasms and comes all over your fingers, panting into your open mouth while you let her jerk against you. You keep fucking her through the aftershocks until she winces and breaks away to push at your shoulders and you slowly pull out of her.

Holding eye contact with her, you envelope your fingers in your mouth and clean them off. She groans and you take in her ragged state: mussed-up hair, lipstick smeared over her mouth, chest pink and heaving. You’re sure you look like as much of a mess as she does, if not more.

The adrenaline from getting her off is still pumping through your veins and you hardly even feel your own arousal until Agatha reaches down and unzips your pants with one smooth motion. You gasp and she chuckles as she reaches into your boxers to take out your cock encased in purple.

You almost see stars when she squats down again, parallel to earlier this evening, only this time, she grabs the key on her necklace. It’s hard to breathe when she inserts it into the lock and twists it. Even with the tiniest bit more room, you can feel your cock already growing and pressing against the boundaries of the lessened restraint.

She stands back up and motions so you tug it off your already-hardened cock and set the cage on the counter. You look at her with pleading eyes and her lip curls with disgust, immediately falling back into her role.

Agatha roughly grabs you and spins you so you’re facing the mirror. Your cock throbs freely when you see her red lipstick streaked across your own face—a reminder of her lips on yours that you don’t want to ever forget. Your cock bobs and spits a dollop of precum onto the counter and you imagine Agatha licking it off.

But instead, she drags her tongue up the palm of her hand, stands behind you, and reaches around to grip the base of your cock. You gasp loudly and she begins to stroke. Your stomach immediately tightens.

“You’re so pathetic, aren’t you?” she croons and your hips jerk forward. She lathers the mixture of her saliva and your precum up and down your length and you squirm. “You’d do anything I wanted, wouldn’t you? Put a cage around your cock because I suggested it? You’re fucking hopeless without me, aren’t you?”

You moan and rut into her hand. You’re already so close and the embarrassment at coming this soon only turns you on more because you know Agatha will humiliate you for it.

Except her degradation isn’t cutting as hard as it usually does. There’s heat in her eyes and it’s not just from you fucking her—it’s because she likes watching you like this.

“Look at what a filthy fucking slut you are for me,” she spits and grips your hair with her other hand to hold you still while speeding up her thrusts. Whimpers fall from your mouth, pleasure tingling from your cock to your lower back and up your spine. “Look at how I ruined you.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, this is all for you,” you chant, hands gripping the sink and her eyes capture yours in the reflection. The corners of her mouth quirk up. “Please, Agatha, I’m going to—”

She sinks her teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, just another demonstration of how she owns you, and your cock explodes, pumping out strand after strand of cum into the sink. Agatha keeps stroking you while you grunt like a rabid animal and keep fucking her hand until your cock begins to soften.

It’s the first orgasm you’ve had in about four days and you slouch forward against the sink, careful not to get any cum on your suit, while you breathe heavily.

There’s the sound of heels clacking on the marble tile and then Agatha reaches between your arm and your body with a wet paper towel to wipe your mess off the counter and then turns on the faucet to clean the sink.

There’s a comfortable silence while you both tidy everything up. There’s a lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt that you don’t even try to get off. You wipe the perspiration off your forehead and with a different paper towel, she dabs at her lipstick that’s still on your mouth. It’s maternal and gentle and your cock gives another weak twitch before you stuff it back in your pants. She thoroughly washes the chastity cage before shoving it in her purse.

“That’s a one-and-done sort of thing, then?” you ask, almost worried that she’ll say no. Orgasm denial, when it comes from her as you’ve found out, is hot.

So you’re delighted when she shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I’m still not completely sure you’ve learned how to be patient.”

Your smirk is sly. “Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, can you?”

“Oh, I will,” she says determinedly and you think you should get extra credit for not reaching back into your pants and jerking off right now, like you suddenly feel the urge to do.

The only problem left is Agatha’s lipstick—it’s completely unsalvageable and she realizes that she left the tube at her apartment after she put it on for the first time earlier.

So she pulls her dress back down, sweeps her hair over her shoulders before tousling it a few times, and strides out into the hall. You hear her ask if she can borrow someone’s lipstick, surely the first person she finds.

She comes back into the bathroom a moment later and you watch transfixed as she applies it to the same lips that were on yours just a moment earlier.

“Let’s hope no one notices we’ve been gone for a while,” she murmurs.

But when you leave the bathroom, exactly three minutes after her so as to not raise suspicions, it doesn’t seem like anyone is the wiser.

And if someone realizes Agatha’s lips are painted nude instead of the rosy red they were at the beginning of the gala, the same rosy red that has stained your collar, they don’t say anything.

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #covsfics #practice makes perfect

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4unnyr0se · 10 months ago

Text

❥ OHMAMI | hajime iwaizumi

warnings: timeskip! iwaizumi, fem! reader, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hickeys, degradation, manhandling, slight fingering, finger-sucking, riding, oikawa is mentioned a lot tbh, protective and possessive iwa

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.9k

a/n: okay i started this in early june and now im finishing it so im sorry if it doesnt make sense aaaa

❥ song: OHMAMI - chase atlantic

Iwaizumi was never the one people thought of when asked who their favorite member of the Aoba Johsai team was. He grew to accept it over time, albeit with spite and anger. Everyone was always wrapped up in what Oikawa was doing, wondering who would be his next girlfriend of the week. It was gross how Oikawa hogged all the girls; how could he be so selfish? Fucking jackass.

Naturally, it was a relief when he graduated. Sure, Aoba Johsai never went to nationals (and yes, it very much stung), but the memories were important, right? Hitting perfect spike after spike, smacking Oikawa around, hearing that glorious school cheer, Iwaizumi had to admit he would miss it. Not the part where Oikawa kept all the girls to himself.

Graduation came and went, and so did university. It was a breeze. Sports medicine was not a challenging major; he was just really good at the subject. Another graduation came, and Iwaizumi could only think about you and that pretty, perfect face. You were his closest friend in high school, and sadly, you drifted apart during university. You were studying Japanese literature or something, he didn’t remember. It’s not his fault; he was just too busy getting girls for the first time in a while. Totally not his fault…right?

Iwaizumi wasn’t doing himself any fucking favors, he thought about you too much for his own good. Whether Aoba Johsai lost or how insufferable Oikawa was, you were always there for him. You let him lean against your shoulder and complain about his day, his disheveled and messy uniform giving him an even more thuggish appearance. The way your soft, almost angelic hands massaged his scalp, assuring him that he would be okay. Oh, how he longed for your fingers in his spiky hair again. He had forgotten your scent, your sweet floral scent. Was it roses or lavender? Maybe lilac? Although all the girls in high school wore the same body sprays, yours was different. Was it because you were never scared of him to begin with? Fuck, he missed you.

He sat on the bench in the empty locker room of the gym he worked at, a hot towel draped around broad shoulders as he began to lose himself in his fond high school memories. Images danced around in his mind of your sweet face smiling at him for the first time, the words “Don’t worry, I’ll help you study for the English test!” leaving your soft lips. At least, Iwaizumi thought they were soft. No, he knew they were soft. God, you were so kind to him. You even ignored Oikawa’s advances towards you, which made him blush and gain so much respect for you in an instant. “Man, I’d really like to punch that guy in his dumb face.” you snickered, covering your bright smile. Iwaizumi swore he could marry you right then and there.

From that moment on, he was your closest friend. You went to all his practices and games, cheering for him when no one else would. “Nice kill, Iwa!” you would shout from the bleachers, proudly wearing a spare version of his jersey. His jersey. If Iwaizumi had no supporters, you were dead. The two of you were inseparable until university rolled around, and Iwaziumi became stupidly popular with the ladies. And sure, college girls were pretty and incredibly loose, but they weren’t you. No one was you, and he missed you every day.

Iwaizumi grunted as he stood up, tossing the towel into a basket. He stepped out of the locker room with his hands in his pockets, whistling a song from his cardio playlist. It was around ten at night, and his gym was one of the few open so late, so there wasn’t anyone there except the front receptionist girl who flirted with every guy who walked in. Truly, he couldn’t ask for better entertainment.

“Yo,” Iwaizumi leaned across the desk, stealing an electrolyte drink from the employee minifridge. There’s no one here; you should just go home. It’s getting late.” The cool drink touched his lips, the cherry flavoring subtle. “If the boss gives you any crap, you can blame me. I don’t mind.”

The receptionist eagerly stood up and practically ran out the door, throwing her time card at him. “Clock me out!” she shouted halfway out the automatic door. Iwaizumi sighed and shoved the time card in his sweats. She really was a ditz, but at least she got people to sign up for VIP memberships.

He clocked her out and went to his favorite spot in the gym where he usually deadlifts. Unfortunately, there was no one to spot him. Iwaizumi was a jock, but he certainly wasn’t dumb. There was no way he was dying because he got crushed by a fucking barbell. There is no chance in hell.

His rough and calloused hands decided just to lift weights instead. That was simpler, more safe. He flipped on his headphones and selected a tune from his more…sensual playlist. It's a sensual indie R&B song that could make anyone feel like a sex god. Why was that song on his playlist? He couldn’t tell you. Once again, Iwaizumi became lost in his thoughts as he lifted the weights up and down with such ease. He worked out for health benefits, but just something about staring at his physique in the mirror made it all worth it. Damn, did he look fine as hell. He was ashamed of how long it took him to realize that he was stupidly attractive, and it took a lot of skill not to develop a massive ego around his looks.

The automatic doors slid open, the dinging sound drowned out by his noise-canceling headphones. His green eyes locked on the floor mat below him, concentrating on passing the time by any means necessary. He paused briefly when he saw two tiny white sneakers enter his field of vision, standing considerably close to his muscular form. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, placing the weights on the ground. “Music’s loud, y’know?” His eyes trailed upwards until they finally met your gaze, his pupils shrinking in shock. His hands gripped his headphones, softly filling the room with sensual music. “Holy shit.” Iwaizumi’s mouth was agape. He looked like a fool. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Iwa.” you smiled brightly, taking his headphones from his rough hands and placing them around his thick neck. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Three years, I think.” Fuck, he forgot how much smaller your hands were to his own. It’s so cute.

“Three years since university, yeah,” Iwaizumi mumbled, wiping the glistening sweat away from his forehead. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. You don’t look any different. Not that it’s a bad thing!” he stumbled on his words, silently cringing at his immature actions. He never got this flustered. He hasn’t been in a while. Less than a minute talking to you, and he was a stammering mess. This wasn’t like him at all. His tough persona might as well be tossed out the window.

You offered him another sweet smile and rubbed his shoulder, the sweat not bothering you in the slightest. “Change is a good thing, y’know,” your words were gentle and comforting, oozing with wisdom beyond your years. Another thing Iwaizumi thought was perfect about you was that you always knew the right thing to say. “You’ve changed too. You’re way more buff than the last time we saw each other!”

“Damn right,” he smirked, subtly flexing his biceps. Were you looking? He hoped so. “I’m a personal trainer, so I gotta stay in shape. Plus, I train Oikawa, so whenever I’m pissed off, I just do a couple sets.”

“You still hang out with Oikawa? I thought you hated him.” you raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on your hips quizically.

“I’m getting paid to tell him what workouts he should do. Can’t complain about that money,” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head, fluffing out his spiky hair. “Besides, I’m allowed to kick his ass whenever I want. That asshole deserves it. He somehow got even more cocky after he got back from Argentina.”

You rolled your eyes and found a nearby workout bench, crossing your legs over each other. “I didn’t think Loserkawa could become even more full of himself. You’d think being in a foreign country would humble him slightly.”

“Right?” a deep chuckle escaped his chapped lips as Iwaizumi sat beside you, minding the distance. He bit down on his lower lip slightly, just for a moment. Would you mind if he sat closer to you, like in high school? “He even started speaking Spanish, but he’s not allowed to do that around me.”

“Because you’ll throw a dumbbell at him?”

“Because I’ll throw a dumbbell at him.”

You giggled and scooted closer to Iwaizumi, the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne filling your nostrils. He smelled more mature than in high school, but that’s a given. “I see you’re still the same ol’ spikey-haired guy.” you ruffled his hair, knowing that you were the only one who could do that without getting a beatdown.

Iwaizumi blushed, averting his eyes from your gaze. Fuck, he really missed your touch. “So, uh, what brings you to the gym? Were you looking for a membership or something?”

You shook your head, casually wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Were you trying to kill him? “Nah. If I’m being honest, I saw you in one of the windows while I was out for an evening walk. It’s been a while, so I wanted to say hi.” You momentarily looked down at your shoes, a faint blush gracing your cheeks. “Besides, I missed you.”

“You walked here by yourself? At night? Are you crazy?” Iwaizumi shouted, grasping your shirt to pull you closer. “It’s not safe at night. You didn’t have anyone to protect you! Do you know how stupid that sounds?” his nostrils flared, a mixture of anxiety and rage overcoming him. “What if something happened?”

You gasped, your brow furrowing. “Well, excuse me! I didn’t know I needed permission from someone I haven’t spoken to in three years to take a fucking walk!” you ripped his hand away from your shirt.

Iwaizumi groaned, hanging his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…” he took a deep breath. “It’s not safe for someone like you at night, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because you wanted to see me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his chin up, staring into his oceans of green. “Just because you’re worried about someone doesn’t give you an excuse to be an asshole about it,” you smiled in assurance. “Next time, I’ll bring something to defend myself. Okay?”

Iwaizumi smirked. “You’re the only person allowed to call me an asshole, y’know that? If you were anybody else, I’d beat your skull in.

“Then I’m lucky that I happen to still be Hajime Iwaizumi’s favorite person after all these years,” you bit down on your lower lip. “Unless…you have a girlfriend. Then she’s probably your favorite person.”

“No girlfriend, I don’t have the time,” he shook his head, moving himself closer. “I had a girlfriend before, but then-”

“Oikawa took her from you?” you cut him off.

“Fucking Oikawa took her from me. He dated her for two weeks, then dumped her for someone he met at a bar. Can you believe that?” he clenched his fist.

“Unfortunately, I can,” you gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess Oikawa will always be Oikawa.”

“God help us,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Hey, I gotta lock up the gym. Can you wait outside, and then I can drive you home?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Why would you be a bother? I’m just keepin' you safe, dummy.” Iwaizumi assured you, getting up and brushing off his pants. “Wait here. I’ll come to get you. I don’t want you standing outside. There’s a lot creeps around here who want nothing more than to get close to a pretty girl like you.” he turned around, not realizing that he had just complimented you. You were left with a brighter blush on your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Did Iwaizumi think you were pretty after all this time?

Eventually, he finished what he needed to do to close up the gym: he wiped down all the machines and ensured everything was organized for the morning shift. He grabbed you by the wrist and practically dragged you out of the gym, having an unusually tight grip.

“Dude, what are you doing? I know how to walk,” you tugged your wrist away from his hand, rubbing it. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen when you were cleaning up? “I just don’t want you to stray too far, that’s all. Keep close to me, or else I might end up killing somebody.” he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats, making his way to the car. He was weirdly protective over you, but it only bothered you slightly.

Having your big, strong best friend wanting nothing more than to keep you safe in a parking lot was…well, it was sexy. Iwaizumi was sexy, and he knew it. You wondered if he knew that you thought so, too. How, when you were in high school, you would daydream about him pinning you against the wall and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. How your mind would wander in college, staring at him from across the dining hall, watching as he unconsciously flexed his biceps in such a way that made you swoon every single time.

With his hand wrapped protectively over your shoulder, he clicked the keyfob and unlocked his car. It was a larger vehicle, boasting proud rims on the tires. “You can get in the passenger seat. I have snacks in the glove compartment if you’re hungry.”

“Since when do you have snacks in the car?” you sat in the passenger seat, buckling up. “That doesn’t seem very healthy, Mr. Personal Trainer.” you giggled, making air quotes.

He playfully rolled his eyes, getting into the driver's seat. “I have to drive long distances for work sometimes. So, to keep me sane, I keep little snacks in my glove compartment. Granola and crap like that. Protein bars.”

“Oh, so snacks that aren’t actually snacks?” you winked.

“Shut up,” he clicked his seatbelt in, revving the car. “Do you wanna choose what we listen to or not? Also, type your address into the GPS while at it.”

“Or I could look through your messages.”

Iwaizumi shot you a glare. “Don’t even joke about that.”

You giggled, typed in your address, and then opened Spotify. “You have a lot of playlists. Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, flexing the muscles. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy. “I dunno, I guess I just have one for every occasion. When you’re working with Oikawa, music typically helps,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You can pick from any song on any playlist.”

“Then I choose this one,” you selected OHMAMI, handing him back his phone. “It’s from your playlist that has a heart emoji as the title. What’s that for?”

Iwaizumi felt his face become overrun with a blazing blush. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of his parking spot, turning the car towards the exit. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I wanna know!” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “C’mon, we just caught up a second ago, but you never kept any secrets from me.”

He sighed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, okay. Fine,” he took a deep breath. “It’s…this song is from my sex playlist. Specifically from college.”

Your pupils blew up, your hand immediately flying to your mouth to stifle a chuckle. “You have a sex playlist? And this is a song on it?”

“That’s what I just fucking said, didn’t I?” his face was red and anger and embarrassment. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“Iwa,” you tapped his thigh. “Sorry for laughing. It’s just that sex playlists are usually romantic and, no offense, but you never seemed like a romantic kind of guy.”

He furrowed his brow. “I can be romantic, “ he made a sharp left turn. “I just haven’t had a reason to in a while, that’s all.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, man,” you pouted. “I’m sure someone will come along that can make you want to use this playlist again.” you smiled at him, flashing your teeth.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Iwaizumi sighed, stealing a glance at you. You were perfect, absolutely perfect. He was mentally kicking himself for not making a move. But then again, there was a sexy song playing, so the mood was set. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if his hand squeezed your thigh, dancing lower and lower. Maybe you wouldn’t mind at all.

He continued to drive, the music from the stereo being the only thing to prevent the car from being silent. His mind wandered places: obscene, filthy places. He wondered what noises you would make if he ate your pussy out in the passenger seat. Would you taste as sweet as he imagined? Iwaizumi just knew your pussy was tight, how it would flutter around his cock as he bounced you up and down on it in the backseat, your hand flat against the roof of his car with the music blaring. He was so deep in thought that he neglected to realize the tent growing in his sweats. But you noticed.

Your eyes darted back and forth to his hard-on, squeezing your legs together at the sight. You suspected he was hiding a monster down there, and now you were sure of it. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi never got hard around you before today, at least not to your knowledge. It was like it was calling you to, desperate for your hands to slide up and down.

“Uh, Iwa?” you groaned, crossing your legs over each other.

“Hm?” he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“You have like…a huge boner right now.” you blushed furiously, cringing to yourself. Could you have chosen a more awkward set of words?

Iwaizumi choked on his breath, swerving the car slightly. He glanced down at his sweats, and lo and behold, he was hard. “O-Oh, fuck. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” he groaned, clenching onto the steering wheel once more.

You squirmed in your seat. “Hey man, don’t worry about it. You can’t control when you get hard, right? S’not a problem.”

He thought for a moment, mumbling under his breath. He canceled the navigation and pulled the car into a parking lot by an abandoned gas station frequented by local teenagers. Luckily, there was no one there right now. “I can’t,” he breathed in, refusing to meet your gaze. “I can’t control it when I’m around you,” he parked the car. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”

You squeezed onto the leather seats, your face still blazing red. “You’re telling me that I made your dick hard?”

“Yeah, that’s what I just fucking said.” he groaned, unclicking his seatbelt. His eyes finally met yours, full of want. “You made me hard, princess.”

Princess. The nickname rang in your ears. Fuck, it was like hot honey rolling off his chapped lips. “Iwa…” you breathed out, gasping as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. The center console was the only thing that separated you two.

“Princess,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Ever since you said, you wanted to punch Shittykawa in the face.”

“Really?”

“Really.” his eyes landed on your lips, beautiful and begging to be kissed. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Please,” his hot breath grazed your cheek. “Please tell me that you want me to. But I’m warning you right now,” he kissed your burning skin. “Once you tell me you do, I won’t hold myself back anymore.”

A sensation began to bubble inside your belly, his words causing your core to throb with want. You parted your lips, wetting them with your tongue. “Iwa,” your voice was barely a whisper. “Please, I want you.”

Iwaizumi let go of your shirt, his eyes flaring with passion and lust. “Get in the backseat, now.” he growled, climbing over the center console. You eagerly followed him, finding a spot on his lap. His hands secured themselves on the fat of your hips, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. It's not like you wanted to, anyway.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so fucking long, princess,” he groaned before slamming his lips against yours in a frenzy. His lips assaulted yours, greedy and shameless. Your mind became TV static, your lips dancing with his as if it was a reflex, as if you had done this a million times before. You moaned into the kiss as he groped you without a care, his hands slipping under the hem of your gym shorts. You gasped as his warm hands wandered, exploring you as if he was attempting to map out your perfect curves.

His hand was scolding hot as it ventured to finger the elastic, ripping the cheap fabric. He swallowed your surprised gasp, smirking into the kiss. “Fuckin’ cheap fabric,” he growled, his hand massaging up and down your panties. “I’ll buy you a new pair, don’t worry, your pretty lil’ head about it.”

Iwaizumi broke the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck while his fingers continued their gentle dance across your clothed, dripping cunt. The digits ran up and down the soaked material, causing him to shudder. “Fuck, you’re this wet from just a kiss?” he groaned against your neck, the sharpness of his canines grazing the sensitive skin. He could have sworn he could hear your heartbeat coming from the veins. Your pulse was thundering, it was fucking addictive. His lips ventured up and down your delicate neck, leaving wanting, open-mouthed kisses in the spots that made you squirm so beautifully on your lap. His teeth nibbled down on your sweet spot, causing your hips to buck into his hard-on.

“Needy fucking girl,” his voice rumbled, fingers dipping into your panties to toy with your sobbing slit. You whimpered, resting your forehead onto his own as the calloused pads of his thick fingers teased your clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked. D’ya even need me to finger this pussy, or are you such a fucking slut that you’re this wet all the time?” his hands cracked against your ass. “Hm? Talk to me, princess.”

“Only you!” you yelped. Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, lifting his head from your neck to greet you with a blown-out stare. His eyes told you everything you needed to know; they told you that he wanted to fucking ruin you on his cock like he’s been wanting to all these years.

“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” he slapped your ass again, making you gasp and jolt. His lips quickly met yours once more as his finger bullied its way inside your cunt, curling inside without mercy or forgiveness. “Shit, you’re squeezing around my finger. Do you really need to get fucked that fucking bad, hm? Is my girl a little slut?”

“M’not a slut!” you sobbed, tossing your head back. Your hands gripped his muscular shoulders with white-hot-knuckle strength, making Iwaizumi hiss in pain. Not that he was complaining. He fucking loved it.

“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore,” he pulled his finger out of your weeping cunt, licking off your slick. “Ya taste so fucking good, shit,” he groaned, sliding off his sweatpants and boxers so that his cock could spring free. You moaned at the sight, taking in his magnificent length. He was small by no means necessary, boasting a lengthy and girthy cock with an angry red tip that was leaking precum. “Turn around and hover above it.”

You did as he instructed, pushing your ruined panties to the side so your pulsating core was just above his angry cock. His hands snaked around the small of your waist, pulling your flush up against his chest. “You’re gonna be a good fucking slut and let me fuck you on this cock, yeah? If I think you’re being too quiet for even a second,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

“Iwa,” your words died on your tongue as his fingers were abruptly shoved into your mouth, making you gag.

“Don’t fucking call me Iwa,” he demanded, his cock teasing your entrance. “It’s Hajime now. Don’t be a dumbass and forget it when I’m breaking you on this cock. Am I clear, pretty girl?”

You nodded, tears swelling in your eyes. His fingers slid out of your mouth and back onto your hips, squeezing the fat. “Be a good little slut and take this cock,” he growled, biting down harshly onto your neck before slamming you onto his cock without mercy, refusing to give your tight pussy anytime to adjust.

“Oh god, yes,” Iwaizumi moaned against your neck, bouncing you expertly on his length. His eyes were hooded with lust and desire as he looked over your shoulder. The sight of your pussy swallowing his cock was magnificent. Especially how you struggled to take his length, you poor thing. Maybe he’ll be nicer to you next time. “Do you see yourself, princess? That pretty pussy is swallowing me whole. Good fucking girl.”

You writhed and squirmed on his lap, helpless as Iwaizumi used you like a toy. His hands reached around to pull down your top, exposing your bralette to the hot atmosphere. He pulled your bra down as well, shamelessly pinching and squeezing your pillowy mounds as his cock drove itself inside you with reckless abandon.

“Y’been hiding these perfect tits from me too? Naughty fucking girl,” his hand dropped your breast and smacked your clit, earning a shriek from your bruised lips. “Can’t believe I waited this fucking long to grope these tits, fuck. I wonder what else you’re hiding, hm?” his hips never relented, continuing their rushed and desperate pace in harsh and fast strokes.

“You look like such a slut right now. God, I wish I could see that pretty face,” he purred against the shell of your ear, licking the cartilage. His praise was so fucking addictive, making you shamelessly clench on his cock. “Oh, y’like when I call you pretty? Get fucking used to it.”

“I’m gonna make you ruin yourself on me,” his voice rasped, the tip of his cock twitching inside of you. “You’re gonna cum all over this fucking cock, and then I’ll cum inside, yeah? No one’s ever gonna fuck this pretty cunt again unless I say so. Until your Hajime says so, okay, princess?” he smacked your clit again, gathering your slick on his fingers. “Who’s the only one that can fuck this pretty pussy?”

“You! It’s yours, Hajime!” you sobbed, the rest of your meaningless rambling dying on your lips as he shoved his fingers inside your mouth once more. Your tongue wrapped around the digits, tasting your delicious slick. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him impossibly deeper inside of you. You were so fucking greedy.

Iwaizumi snarled against your neck, fucking you even harder. His hips continued to snap as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside, the sensation of your pussy doing its best to milk him being all that he needed. “You’re gonna fucking cum, yeah? That’s it, princes, make a fucking mess on me. Get your Hajime all sticky with your cum like a good fucking girl.”

With Iwaizumi’s encouragement, you finally let go. You came with a wanton sob, the bubbles in your belly boiling over to send you crashing over the edge and into oblivion. You could have sworn you saw white. Iwaizumi fucked you through it, whispering sweet nothings as your release coated his cock.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned into your neck, biting down once more on the bruised skin as his cock twitched one final time, his release spilling inside to fill your cunt up so nicely. “Good fucking girl, take it all.” his hands fell to his hips, slumping against the leather seat.

“Hajime,” you groaned, reluctantly pulling yourself off his cock. His cum ran down your ruined thighs, mixing with your slick. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” you offered him a weak smile, staring at your ripped and forgotten-about jean shorts. “Dammit, you ripped them! These were my favorite pair. And now I don’t have any pants!” you scolded him, hitting him over the head with the fabric. “We’re in a parking lot, and I have no damn pants!”

“Relax,” he sighed, pulling up his pants and boxers. “Did you forget I was driving you home? Besides,” he pecked your lips. “I’m coming over, and we’re gonna cuddle and shit. Whatever you want.” he blushed, not meeting your gaze. He was still scared of you seeing him blush even after you were so intimate.

“Whatever I want?” you teased. “You’re cute when you get all flustered, Hajime.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#timeskip iwaizumi #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #aoba johsai

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lightseoul · 3 months ago

Text

a/n. pleasantly surprised at how quickly i wrote this bit, it practically wrote itself. glad the first part was interesting for a lot of you—i love writing about psych/therapy stuff (despite my complex relationship with 'em), and ofc bkg <3 i honestly don't know where i'm going with this, but it's been fun so far. (0.8k)

navigation. part 1, (you are here), part 3

thankfully—and to the relief of whatever dignity he had left—that interaction was short-lived.

well, it’s mostly because after you blinked at him for what felt like a torturous eternity and said a shaky hello back, he gave you a curt nod as if he wasn’t the one who just initiated the exchange and bolted it out of there without a single glance back.

that bit haunted him for the next few days, reappearing in his consciousness whenever the topic of therapy or anything remotely close to it was broached. he even snapped at kirishima when the redhead asked how his latest session went during one of their evening patrols together. it was a kneejerk reaction, an entirely out-of-proportion, aggressive response that shocked even him, which says a lot.

he should go ahead and text the guy an apology.

eventually, though, that unfortunate powwow slowly faded into the background of his exceptionally busy mind as the days went on. things got so hectic in the agency that he had to postpone his appointment for the week, which—quite frankly—is an upside to this chaos, because he sure wasn’t pumped about discussing his love life, or the lack thereof, with the jarringly knowing middle-aged lady. being able to definitively avoid you and buy you more time to forget about his stupid social blunder is merely the cherry on top.

okay, maybe the incident didn’t actually slip his mind after all.

“…bakugou-san? are you still with me?”

dazed, bakugou squeezes his eyes shut before fluttering them open, and what greets him is the very same lady against the backdrop of her increasingly familiar office, only this time she’s looking more concerned than perceptive.

right. he’s supposed to be in the middle of a session right now.

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of irrelevant thoughts and focus on the matters at hand. therapy is expensive, after all. “i’m here.”

that doesn’t seem to placate the woman who instead prods, much to his chagrin. “you seem out of it today. is there something in your mind that you want us to talk about?”

for a second, he debates caving and just telling her the dumb shit that happened two weeks ago, but then backtracks when it dawns on him how ridiculous everything is. what is he, a prepubescent boy? he died and survived a major war, for fuck’s sake. why is he so hung up on seeming awkward for once in his life?

even hearing it in his head is embarrassing enough.

that settles it, then. his lips are and will remain sealed.

but then his gaze refocuses on his therapist, and the sheer ‘unconditional positive regard’ or whatever the crap is called that she’s radiating becomes so palpable that it just spills out of him.

“i fucked up.”

that makes the lady frown—which, if he thinks about it, is understandable, because he rarely opens up about his failures, let alone this blatantly—although she manages to quickly school her expression into a more neutral one. “can i ask you to expound on it?”

at that, bakugou sighs, because it’s either he just tells the laughable truth or actually cite one of his actual mistakes—which he’s not feeling right now, by the way. or he can expertly maneuver the conversation to another topic, but something tells him there’s no getting out of the current subject. maybe today, there is, but it’ll surely loom over their next sessions indefinitely until either of them revisits it.

he should know. it’s happened to him too many times, he’s lost count.

with this realization, he can only sigh again.

“it’s stupid,” he preempts.

“i’d like to hear it regardless,” comes her classic, supportive response.

and so he does it. talk, that is. it starts off a bit rough—he didn’t know how to even begin without flushing like an idiot, but he managed to get the brief anecdote going. he still ended up blushing anyway—the warmth in his cheeks was undeniable—and if she noticed, she gratefully didn’t point it out. by the time he’s finished with the trivial tale, he’s mildly out of breath, having said everything in one continuous burst.

“i told you,” he spits when she doesn’t say anything for a beat. “it’s stupid.”

“i’d normally ask you to reconsider the adjectives you use for yourself and your experiences, but i think you’ve heard enough of that.”

he snorts. damn straight.

the woman then shoots him a smile, and he has to tamp down the reflex to bristle at an impending attempt to placate him. fortunately, it doesn’t come.

what does, instead, is a question.

one that catches him completely off guard.

“did you find her attractive?”

the fuck, is his first, immediate thought.

but then his normally trusty and acute brain seemingly comes to life and promptly supplies a second one that leaves him frozen and utterly dumbfounded.

yes.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

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undreaming-fanfiction · 3 months ago

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Just My Type

This one is for @henderdads with her prompt - accidental first kiss. Happy Valentine's Day, Cass! I hope this will bring you some joy!

Steve Harrington wasn't known for sharing his problems with others. He was the one who resolved all your issues, not brought more to the already very overcrowded table. The kids needed some stability, and as much as he loved Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, they weren't exactly fit for that role. The girls would soon leave Hawkins for college (Steve was so proud his heart could burst), and Eddie had his hands full with the whole finishing high school thing while still recovering from being nearly eaten by demobats.

No, Steve had this handled. He was the least fun of the four, but reliable. As far as the kids knew, the only issue Steve had was his inconsistent and ever dramatic love life, nothing else.

When Steve's eyesight started getting worse, likely from all those concussions, he handled it on his own. No need to worry anyone. A secret pair of glasses for home, prescription sunglasses for driving (and yeah, he looked cool in them, despite the kids' grumbling), and that was it. They didn't need to know. Everything was working out just fine. He was great at faking things.

At least until that fateful day. But we’ll get there. First, something about Steve’s love life.

See, Steve was dating around. He had been feeling anxious, unfulfilled, and the more he thought about it, the reason wasn’t Nancy for once. Even stranger, he knew he was over her, but the feeling of needing something and not being able to get it wouldn’t leave. So he got out there, used his charm, and prayed he’d finally find the one.

So far, it wasn’t working out. Most of the girls he went out with were lovely, kind, and gorgeous, but there was always something missing that made him break things off before anyone could get hurt. He had a type - curly or wavy dark hair and even darker eyes, but hey. It wasn’t his fault that Nancy had been the closest to an ideal relationship he’d ever had! That had to be the reason, he thought. Maybe his concussed brain decided that curly hair meant a good girlfriend.

“It’s not like I can help it,” he lamented, pretending not to see Eddie’s amused smirk. They had become good friends after their Upside Down near death experience, and as Dustin never failed to mention with a truckload of disgust, they were now practically inseparable. “Who doesn’t like curly hair? They’re making it this whole thing. I’m over Nancy.”

Eddie snorted and tossed his chemistry textbook somewhere towards the pile of stuff that might have included his desk. “Uh-huh. Sure thing. So this new one-”

“Jenny.”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Yes. This Jenny. It’s just a coincidence that she’s a dead ringer for Wheeler.” He nudged Steve’s side with his bare foot. “Come on, Harrington. Be honest with your only adult friend.”

Steve kicked him in retaliation. “Wow, rude. I’ll let you know, I have Robin!”

“Buckley is so much more than a mere human, Steven. She doesn’t count, she surpasses our species. Whereas I,” he announced to the broken ceiling fan, “am very human, non-judgmental, and I have seen you go through half a dozen ladies of the same type since the spring break. So?”

Laughing, Steve kicked him again. “So nothing. She doesn’t look like Nancy. Hell, she looks more like you - her hair is darker, more wavy, and she has those really pretty dark eyes. And she’s tall. Are you saying you’re my type too?”

Eddie rolled over and batted his eyelashes. “I don’t know, Steve, am I?”

Steve hit him with a pillow in the face. If he hadn’t been so busy laughing, he might have just noticed the tinge of longing in Eddie’s voice.

To recap: the two things that led to the most important day of Steve’s life were a) his tendency to date a certain visual type of girl; b) his unwillingness to admit to anyone that he needed glasses.

Here’s what happened.

Steve, being both a good friend and a good boyfriend, took Jenny to see Eddie perform with the Corroded Coffin. Was metal his favorite music genre? Not really, but he wanted to support Eddie, and Jenny didn’t seem to mind, she even agreed to wear a Corroded Coffin t-shirt from Steve’s wardrobe.

Steve found himself enjoying the concert way more than he’d expected. The alcohol helped, sure, but it was so heartwarming to see Eddie in his element, scarred, but still the same. Steve had even learned to recognize the lyrics within all the noise, and even if he wasn’t ready to discuss that with Eddie yet, Steve considered them surprisingly deep. He really hoped Eddie would make it big, he was a wonderful guy, and life owed him big time.

After the concert, Jenny excused herself to the bathroom, and Steve went to grab some beers. His head was pleasantly buzzing, and even though his eyesight was more blurry than usual, he found his way through the crowd with ease.

He put down both beers and wrapped his arm around Jenny’s waist. He’d lost track of time at the bar, she must have come back in the meantime. And so, as they tended to do, he touched her cheek and turned her face into a quick kiss.

Steve noticed several things at once.

First, stunned gasps from the Corroded Coffin members, along with Robin’s snickering.

Second, Jenny’s cheek felt different. Almost stubbly?

Third, it was the best damn kiss he’d ever had.

And fourth, before the kiss could end, he felt something wet - the beer he’d just brought - hit his head and back, along with an angry shriek.

What happened next was a blur, and not just because he had trouble seeing it. He was vaguely aware of a second Jenny hitting him with her purse and storming off, Robin trying to control her laughter, and the person next to him, also drenched in beer? That was Eddie.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry!” Steve instinctively grabbed napkins and started drying off the beer in Eddie’s hair, on his jacket. “I...OK, not the best time to tell you, but I’ve noticed I can’t see shit, and normally I wear glasses, but I couldn’t take them with me because I look like a baby accountant or something, and I didn’t want you guys to worry. And uh, you probably know, but your hair looks kinda like Jenny’s, and I’m really sorry I did that without asking.”

Eddie was motionless, letting Steve fret over him. He was just staring into the distance, cogs turning in his brain.

Robin, bless her heart, re-directed the Corroded Coffin guys to grab a mop and a dry t-shirt from Eddie’s van for both Steve and Eddie. After that, she started ushering the unlucky pair towards men’s bathrooms, to “wash off that smell before it’s too late.” She snapped her fingers in front of Eddie’s eyes, getting him to move.

As she shoved both of them towards the sink, she grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him close. “Since you are freshly broken up, I would strongly suggest you think hard and fast about why you made that mistake, Steve. I can’t spell it out for you, even if it would be easier for everyone involved.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Yeah, uh...I think I might know.”

“Might?”

“I definitely know.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m so dumb. That...even if I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t fair to Jenny. Or the ones before.”

Robin smiled at him and, not unkindly, patted his shoulder. “They’ll get over it. In the meantime, your man looks like he’s about to faint. Don’t mess this up, OK? I couldn’t stand to see you brooding again and going through another set of Eddie substitutes.”

After she closed the door behind Steve, she grabbed the mop and started cleaning the mess. She could say it would cost Steve a lifetime of driving her around, but she knew he’d do that anyway.

In the bathroom, Eddie was slowly finding his words. “You...you kissed me.”

Steve took a step towards Eddie, trying not to spook him. “Yeah. I know it sounds like bullshit,” he said, pushing down the bitter memories of that word, “but I really mistook you for Jenny. I can’t see much, especially when it’s dark. I’m really sorry, Eddie.”

He couldn’t see Eddie’s face, but his voice didn’t sound fine. The music from the club drowned out most of the quieter sounds, but Steve could swear he heard a sniffle. “Of course,” whispered Eddie and he seemed so sad. Steve wanted to punch his own face. “Of course it was a mistake.”

Eddie straightened his back and wiped at his eyes before turning towards Steve. “Don’t worry, Steve. It happens. I mean, you should feel more sorry for yourself, you’re single again, and if Jenny or anyone from the club talks, they’ll think you’re a-”

“I don’t care.”

With a bitter chuckle, Eddie shook his head. “You don’t get it, Steve. You have a reputation to protect. Our lovely and pious citizens of Hawkins expect something like that from me, they know I’m...wrong. But you? You’re the golden boy. Steve, you should think about what this will do to you.” He wasn’t looking at Steve, his eyes were glued to the floor. Steve didn’t need a hint to know why Eddie was blinking so rapidly, why he sounded so strained.

He reached out and grasped Eddie’s hands. “Eddie. I really don’t care. I won’t feel sorry for what someone might think. The only reason I’m sorry is that I kissed you without you agreeing to it, in front of people, because...” He took a deep breath and squeezed Eddie’s hands. “...because I wanted our first kiss to be something special. Not a case of a mistaken identity caused by my shitty eyesight. And I wish I could have done it differently, that we wouldn’t be in this dirty bathroom, and sticky and disgusting from that beer. But even if I’m sorry for not asking you, I’m also glad. Because it made me realize something really important.”

Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, still wet with tears, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. A hint of hope. “And what is that?” he asked.

Steve moved several wet strands of Eddie’s hair from his face. He looked just a little bit like a wet rat, but to Steve, he was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And he couldn’t wait to bury his hands in Eddie’s hair properly, when it was freshly washed. Maybe smelling of Steve’s shampoo. That was a thought.

He stroked Eddie’s cheek and for the first time in so long, he felt puzzle pieces falling in place. This was right.

“I realized that I didn’t answer you when you asked me,” he smiled and pulled Eddie closer. “You, Eddie Munson, are exactly my type.”

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie fanfiction #valentine's day exchange

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p-seduonym · 18 days ago

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Switched At Birth (Part Five)

A/N: So I've been a little busy. Work, school, etc. This one's a bit shorter but hopefully you guys like it. Wanted to get more into the yandere aspect of the story with Melissa's thoughts. Also sorry if my taglist is a mess, I'm still figuring out Tumblr etiquette.

Taglist (I'll add you if you ask):@luludeluluramblings, @von-jour, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @kenyummy, @bunniotomia, @ch1cky-093, @toxicthotsyndrome68

Yandere!Batfam X Switched! Fem! Reader X Yandere!Wayne!OC

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

It was only after Melissa had gone home, with a bag of thrifted clothing and another solely for her new dress, that she noticed it.

You left your scrunchie with her.

It felt like satin and was a baby blue color.

You had used it to pin her hair back as you did her makeup with some drug store brands. “Totally a spring— I knew it”, you said as you gently dusted blush on her cheeks, your breath curling around the nape of her neck.

The most reasonable thing to do would be to give it back to you, the next time she saw you.

But…when would “next time” be?

She had heard that plenty of times. “Next time”, Dick promised when she asked if he could go out with her.

“Next time,” her father had said about dinner.

Next time. Next time. Next time.

So she didn’t give it back.

Turning it over in her hands, her thumb brushed over the faint warmth still trapped in the fabric. Just a whisper of it— but your presence was within the weave.

It wasn’t much. Just a scrunchie.

But you’d worn it. You touched her while wearing it. You laughed while twisting her hair up like it was second nature. And that laugh was still there, somewhere in the soft folds, if she listened closely enough.

She slipped it around her wrist, let it rest there like a bracelet.

Just until she saw you again, she told herself.

Only—she didn’t take it off.

The satin was cool against her pulse, a pale ribbon of proof.

Proof that you had been real.

That you had chosen her, even if just for an afternoon.

And maybe it was stupid, maybe she was reading into everything too much—but she didn’t care.

You saw her. You picked her. When no one else even noticed she was there.

Of course you didn’t mean to leave the scrunchie. But that didn’t matter.

Because now it was hers.

A thread that tied her to you.

In the inky stillness of her room, she fell asleep with it intertwined in her fingers.

The next morning, Melissa came down for breakfast. Everyone was gone, as usual, but Alfred was already waiting in the kitchen.

He always was.

However, today, there wasn’t just the morning paper—opened to the financial section— on the table. A laptop, it looked like Barbara’s, sat opened to the trending page on a tabloid site. A picture took up the screen: Melissa, standing awkwardly in a thrift store. You beside her, grinning like you owned the world. A blur of pink between you—the dress.

Alfred looked up when she entered the kitchen. Not judgemental or stern. Just… watchful.

He closed the laptop carefully.

“Miss Melissa”

She paused halfway to the fridge, “...yes?”

“May I assume your outing was enjoyable?”

Not what were you thinking? Not that was inappropriate. Just a simple question. Yet she hesitated.

“...Yes,” She answered carefully, halfheartedly scanning the contents of the fridge. “It was”

She didn’t elaborate further. Didn’t ask why Alfred was interested in social media for once, or why the tabloids thought teenagers hanging out was suddenly front page news. It must have been such a slow news day for the site that they actually remembered the Forgotten Wayne. Barbara always knew when one of them was mentioned anywhere on social media, so it must have been recent, too.

But…her chest tightened. Why did they have to know about you? Why now? When she found someone who chose her? It’s not like they knew who you actually were; just the “girl with cat socks” or “a public curiosity”.

Still, she didn’t like the way it felt. The way your name might now sit on the tongues of strangers, twisted and misinterpreted, picked apart by people who didn’t know you.

Alfred’s tone was light as he poured her tea—green with a dash of sugar, just how she liked it: “She seems like a nice young lady”

That made her think to herself as she stirred her tea aimlessly: did she know you either?

You told her the basics at the diner— you went to a public school, average grades, some friends, a house in the suburbs. Did you tell everyone else that? Did everyone know you the way she does?

The tea tasted more bitter than usual.

You weren’t for them. You were hers.

She didn’t say anything, at first. She didn’t plan for possessiveness. She didn’t get to plan far before everything seemed to dissolve in your wake. Plans seemed to just be like that—crisp and clean until they got wet and tore.

“She is,” She admits, finally. “Nice.”

Alfed inclined his head, accepting this answer. He pauses and waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t. His eyes soften, in a way that grates at her skin, and lets the silent question dissipate.

Poor, little Melissa, she almost heard him think. So worried about her one and only friend.

She was used to this; as used as one could be. People just saw her as someone—something— to feel bad for.

Her warped reflection stared back from the tea cup.

They never really saw the rot just below the surface— and she was glad for that. No one had to see the disgusting bitterness she kept hidden. Even Alfred just saw her as yet another tragedy within the Wayne Manor,

Still, that wasn’t entirely useless.

If there could be yet another thing to tie her to you— her hand grazed the scrunchie on her wrist — wouldn’t that be even better?

Alfred watched her, not pointing out how the hair tie clashed with her uniform, and made a passing note.

“She does look strikingly similar— to who, I can’t quite say”

Melissa paused.

That’s right, she thought, you did look like that person.

She didn't leave her tea when she stood up, rather she took with her and walked past Alfred. In a practiced tone of submissiveness, Melissa confessed,

“I don’t know when I’ll see her again. We don’t go to the same school after all…”

And Alfred responded, his ever kind and patient self: “I will see if your invite to this month’s gala can be extended to one other person”.

Perfect.

As she retreated, she pulled out her cell phone. Typing and retyping, she sent out a message to you.

Hi-

Hello-

Hi, there’s a gala coming up– can you go with me?

She watched as the three little dots appeared and then disappeared before reappearing.

“If you want another makeover, you can just ask lol”

Melissa smiled to herself.

A/N: hehehe who's "that person"? It's probably pretty obvious if you follow @luludeluluramblings's posts but let's forget that and pretend I'm clever for now, okay? btw if you are waiting for some more Cult of the Lamb X Batfam stuff I'll be posting something soon. It's small but it's something.

#yandere #yandere blog #yandere core #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere oc #original character #familial yandere #romantic yandere #yandere batfam X reader #yandere oc x reader #just let me ramble #switched at birth au

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