#it wasn't dubbed at the time though and I don't want to watch it again it's too sad lol

[goldentigerfestival]

Since I'd been talking a lot about JP Vesperia (primarily Yuri and Flynn and the heavy changes that surround them, and because I'm highly passionate about them in their original context), I wanted to compile some more jarring if not outright glaring mistakes in the localization (or what were likely intentional changes, because I can't look at some of these and just call them "mistakes"). I'm not going to mention every little change throughout the game, so smaller things I'll mostly be leaving out (namely things that don't really affect characters or context). I primarily just wanted to give some insight on some of the bigger parts.

Some of the changes seem to have been mistakes in translation itself (not just localization, but misunderstanding what was being said in general; such as, there's an instance I mention of that between Patty and Don), so I've got some mentions hanging around for clarity purposes as some scenes didn't make much sense, likely because of this.

Vocal tone with Yuri was the most prominent issue that got me making this, and the context that was changed being right after if not equally next to that (most often also with Yuri but also Flynn).

This is something that has been bothering me for a while and I've been wanting to share this stuff with people interested in seeing the game with its original context. Generally speaking, the plot and story themselves are on point. The majority of the differences surround Yuri and Flynn respectively, so there's going to be a lot of mention of them throughout.

I've also posted video clips of my favorite scenes and the heavy changes, so consider those a supplement to this and vice versa.

Part 2.

Part 3.

Part 4.

(Other) GTF Favorites.

I'd like to preface this by mentioning the chief director and producer of the game itself has also spoken about localization inaccuracy issues, so that's something to keep in mind (it's in Japanese, but you should be able to use the offered post translator).

I'd also like to preface this by mentioning that in the original, Yuri is more playful and relaxed/casual (generally but including with Flynn, which the dub pretty much entirely changed until arc 3), but also gentler and softer. He has a very large variety of tonal behaviors/tonal "moods" that were pretty much nuked from the dub.

Basically, to get the full experience for Yuri, I can only really recommend playing the game in JP audio. Obviously you won't get the actual context because all you'll have is the dub context, but that's also partly why I'm making these posts - to cover the contextual changes while the video clips cover some of the tonal changes (because lbh I don't expect anyone to actually go watch the entire game in JP with subtitles unless you're as insanely dedicated as I am, and I'm largely doing it out of my love for the original Yuri and Flynn and my disdain for how the localization treated them).

As a heads up, there won't be many skits in here because I'm going through a specific YT playthrough for these screenshots. Specific skits won't always come up in the playthrough in question, and I can't find a whole list of skits in JP anywhere online. I don't have all skits unlocked in my own save either yet (you can unlock all skits with Grade which I have yet to do in the DE), so I can't use that to compare all skits right now.

There are plenty of small changes here and there that I won't be including in these posts because there are some sentence changes that aren't impactful but do exist. I just don't want to be here for a year covering the random changes that don't matter much. I'm also not going to include details of a lot of honorifics because I'd be here all day, but there is one one major instance that I mention later on.

For reference if anything wants to actually watch the game in JP with the subs (it goes until just after Hypionia), most of the references come from here. Since in some cases the subber just reused localized text even when the context wasn't the same, I did bring some of those up in these posts too. These were subbed before the DE version came out. I used screenshots with subs where possible to make it easier to follow along.

I have a lot of passion for JP Yuri and I hope I can pass on some of that passion to others. 🙏

Apologies in advance if some of these sound cranky. If I sound cranky about some specific changes, it's probably because I am.

---

Since I talked about the whole, Raven being shady and Yuri therefore not being grateful to him incident that the localization for some reason butchered and made Yuri sound like a generally ungrateful or just outright dumb person who doesn't understand gratitude, I'll summarize that one again here:

Yuri has a skit with Estelle originally talking about how he can't find himself being grateful to someone like Raven for showing him how to sneak out of the castle. Basically, Raven is shady and he's not sure he should be grateful to someone like that, and is confused as to why Estelle would be so grateful when she doesn't even know him (because in his mind, he isn't sure he wants to trust a guy with those vibes). The dub just kinda... makes him sound like an ungrateful jerk and not so much because he's not sure he wants to trust Raven. It doesn't really sound like it's an issue of his with Raven specifically but more that he just generally doesn't feel grateful for the aid (and that in general one shouldn't feel grateful for aid like this), which gives off a really wrong impression of him that doesn't hold up throughout the game. Yuri wasn't wholly ungrateful for the gesture itself, but because of who it came from (and I imagine a weird peppy guy in jail is good cause to be skeptical).

We start off we a classic "Yuri, you idiot!" that was changed to "come on already!".

Yuri's response to Estelle mentioning he'd been in the knights doesn't actually give a time frame for how long he'd been there (the dub made up three months, but there was never originally even a time frame given).

Here when Yuri asks Estelle why she can't just leave, her response indicates she actually does know why. The dub made it more ambiguous, which could be easily misinterpreted as she really doesn't know, so I'm dropping this one here.

For some reason the localization seemed to have Estelle responding to Karol directly about the ace always performing their attack last ("I don't think so"). What she was referring to was the tiny monster that walked by, asking for confirmation that that monster was not the eggbear they were looking for (I wasn't gonna fight with the video to get a better screenshot without the annoying YT red bar in the way so the monster is in the corner mid-movement lol). Not sure if that was a genuine mistake, but it was an odd one.

(Also, side note and not putting an image here because it's more general, but Yuri refers to Karol as "Karol-sensei" which was translated in the localization to "Captain Karol". Basically, Yuri calls him "sensei" because that's a teacher/professor, and he's making a play on Karol's knowledge and being their "teacher" about monsters/maps/etc.)

I'd say this is more along the lines of overexaggerating and not overreacting, but this line was literally changed to "haha" in the dub. The whole point wasn't that Yuri just brushed her comment off or found it funny. At this point he still literally thinks she's exaggerating about her lack of knowledge out in the world, her excitement, etc.

Not the only instance you'll find of the dub just changing entire sentences to something meaningless as if they ??? didn't know what it meant (they actually changed Patty saying an entire sentence to "aye"). In some cases they added entire sentences that weren't even there...

Even though I can kind of see where they went with the dub here, the point was supposed to be that Flynn actively thought he would be happy for Yuri to go outside the barrier and see the world.

The dub changed this to Flynn saying that he, in the now, is happy that Yuri is outside the barrier, but then says he got a little less happy when he saw the wanted poster, indicating he was previously happy but got less happy, yet says in that moment that he is happy.

It's a weird case of (past/present) tense usage for the most part, but they also removed the fact that Flynn is literally saying "I thought I would be happy" (thus expressing he'd been wanting Yuri to see the world outside the barrier and would've been happy to find out he did). The reason he's not finding himself happy is because of the wanted poster and the crimes listed on it, following up that his honest happiness for Yuri (ultimately because of the poster) was a lie.

This also means they removed Flynn expressing the honesty of his happiness for a positive concept for Yuri, which, given all the changes toward Flynn in the dub, already now takes away from the fact that he'd been actively hoping for good things for someone and we're left with this more sarcastic take on him being "happy".

Obviously his happiness wasn't really a lie because most of the crimes were falsified (primarily the ones that would make him actually mad, because Flynn has had to have been aware this whole time that Yuri has committed small time crimes for the past few years now), but at the time, the focus on this conversation is that Flynn thought he'd be happy at a time that Yuri left the barrier; meaning he'd been hoping for it prior to it happening.

I'm also mentioning it because it's the very first in a whole line of changes the dub made to their relationship (and it's their first in game interaction ffs) and to Flynn himself as he's perceived as a character. The original is much more expressive of how important they are to each other in a lot of various ways.

Inserting the JP audio version of the following scene with Flynn here.

And... the following one from there.

This was changed to "damn, we if lose our balance...". I know they did it because Yuri had just fallen over, but I'm including this one because the context isn't... really the same thing?

This dub change is a bit odd to me. They had him saying something along the lines of "she is a princess after all" in the dub, regarding the council backing her.

The original context is more like, the council is backing her and he's hearing it directly from Ioder and he probably doubts Ioder would lie like that or about that, cementing that yes, she truly is, like he suspected, a princess, but it's almost still a bit odd to know. It's sort of like, he knew/had suspicions but hearing it directly from Ioder just confirms it for certain.

The dub just made it sound like well yeah, it's obvious they'd want to back her, she's a princess... but Ioder is a prince, so that doesn't explain why they're not backing him. She is a princess after all, so of course they'd back her... but what's stopping them from backing the prince?

Another weird one for me. In the dub Yuri says that "even the Commandant was a little in over his head", when he actually... really wasn't? All he did was step in. Things got bad enough that he had to, but he wasn't in over his head. Not sure how or why the dub ended up with that.

An example of the dub having a habit of just adding in random lines that didn't actually exist (and in this case the one added didn't even contextually make sense. This was no thank you from him, this was literally him making Yuri do something for him because he was going to ask Flynn for a favor and ended up with Yuri in the cell instead).

Another super weird one in the dub. They had Yuri saying Flynn was "too" late, implying he hadn't made it in time, but he did. He made it just before the battle started, but the original context only says he's late, not too late (which makes sense given that they were ready to fight but hadn't started yet).

This was changed to Yuri just mentioning there was one way they could get out of there without actually saying what it was, and Judith saying if he thinks it might work what's the harm in trying it out. Not sure why they changed Yuri literally telling her his plan, so... again, a super weird change that I don't get why they didn't just keep the context the way it was.

Third image was changed to "someone get me away from this psycho", which... I also don't get why they put that there unless they just wanted so much flavor text that they wanted to change the whole "they're in a fight and he's telling her not to come over here because he's pissed at her because they're fighting" part of the fake fight they had going on.

Not one I have a huge problem with, but definitely good examples of them going out of their way to change just... perfectly normal stuff that literally has no reason to be changed? Some of it is flavor text and some of it feels over the top for me. Stuff that makes me like... why would you change that when there was no reason to? Could be more of a personal pet peeve of mine, but I just don't like unnecessary changes when there was nothing wrong or odd about the original text and doesn't at all come off odd in English. Unfortunately Vesperia got littered with those.

I didn't feel like getting a whole video for this, but basically Judith gives a little laugh instead of just the more upset/distressed(?) sound she made in the dub. Feels more fitting imo to keep up the "lie" Yuri started for her. The dub makes it seem more like she feels guilty, versus here she's giving a little forced giggle to go along with it. Again, a change I'm not sure why they put in.

Ngl I get completely different vibes from these. The JP comes across more as concern, rather than... treating them like they're some mob on the loose...?

Once again, this gives off negative vibes toward Flynn as a character imo.

Here Judith gives more of a reason for coming with them, which they changed in the dub to "with the circumstances being what they are, this is just how things turned out". Reasonably, she didn't have to stick around after they ran from Dahngrest, but here she gives a quick "reason".

The dub changed this to "I'll bet he is". They were just told he's the current magistrate in Heliord, and all Yuri says here expresses he's letting it sink in and realizing exactly why all this is happening here. It's not a huge story beat or anything that gets changed, but it's an example of changing things that don't need to be changed as if trying to play things up in a way that... doesn't feel necessary to me? In this case the situation is kind of dawning on Yuri as he realizes how bad this situation could be/why it's like it is, but in the dub it comes across as more just unimpressed and "of course he'd do that".

An unfortunate, classic moment of them changing how much Yuri believes in and trusts Flynn. They changed this to "gotta run, Flynn!" and he just... leaves. I'm sorry but in what universe does "leave the rest to you" equal "gotta run"???

This one is one of those cases where the localization text was super awkward and wonky, and worse, they actually voiced it that way (like "we have guild's job to deal with". Yes, they actually voiced it that way too on top of everything else grammatically wonky with the entire conversation that they didn't bother fixing when the DE came out).

Also here, they changed what Yuri says about Cumore and Flynn. "I don't know how I could explain this to Flynn" doesn't, at least to me, carry the same weight as Yuri actually feeling ashamed (in the dub he says "what a shame", but does not express shame, versus him saying "how pathetic" and expressing shame in feeling pathetic) and saying he can't even face Flynn because Cumore got away. The thing is, Yuri does tend to posture, so when he fails at something, it hits him pretty hard.

And let's be honest, this just hits way harder than "he will get what he deserves".

Interestingly, Yuri could also fall into the category of viewing himself as sinful later on, which I talk about in my favorites post and the usage of "crime" and "sin" within the JP context.

Not particularly important, but just another (more mild) case and example of how the dub just randomly changed tone/mood/wording for no reason.

Another case of Yuri being more aggressive in the dub than he actually was. Here, all he says is just a plain statement. In the dub, he has an attitude about it and says it in a tone that's more insulting that Ioder didn't know about Heracles.

This isn't the only case of dub Yuri acting aggressively toward Ioder when he wasn't supposed to be and we'll get to that, but Ioder is another similar case of the dub making Yuri unnecessarily vocally rude (despite that Ioder is very polite toward Yuri).

(I left out the subtitles because all they did was copy the dub's localization, which kinda defeats the point of this post LOL. This will be the case going forward for any same circumstances.)

This one's a more interesting tidbit to me and less of a harmful change (i.e. I find that a lot of if not most changes relative to Flynn do more harm than good when compared with the original context). Basically it's saying "sweet mask and sharp eyes", implying Flynn's sweet face is a mask and saying it contrasts with his sharp eyes. I could get into a whole rant about why I love that in relation to some side material, but even in the game itself, there's the knight Flynn with his sweet, polite side and his real side that only shows when he's around Yuri (basically, who Flynn has to be for his job and who he actually is as a person, which he only gets to be around someone who knows the real him).

I'd guess this got changed in the dub because they weren't sure how to word it, though there's no mention of "heartthrob" here at all and instead actually says "sweet mask" as if, again, to say his sweetness is just a mask. It's actually a very interestingly accurate representation of his character - how he tends to not be himself when he's being "knight Flynn", and how that sweet face is contrasted by the look in his eyes (which they say, you know, eyes are the windows to the soul, so this would imply the sweet face is the mask and the eyes are the real Flynn. And of course, this Flynn is implied to show himself in his sparring with Yuri in Aurnion, where sword fighting is the best way to express himself. This isn't to say Flynn being a nice person in and of itself is a lie, but that his overly polite, respectful, kind knight side is a sweet mask contrasted to the man who loves to fight and has a sharp look in his eyes)

For now, we'll be back at Mantaic in the next post (due to image per post limit).

[fuckyourtriangles]

So I love me some Christopher Sabat but Bang Zoom! dub Vegeta can get it too

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(Part 3/3)

Part 1 - Part 2

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con (with very dubious p in v), power dynamics, mommy issues, Brahms is a perv through and through

word count: 2,9k.

author's notes: this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, I swear. I tried to imbue this with all my naughtiness lmao I hope it was enough! Also, here's some art I made 'cause I'm that generoussss. I hope you enjoy the food! Bon appétit! 🤤🌹

"Did I scare you, Y/N? I didn't mean to..." 

He grimaced at the way his child voice came out broken and less convincing than usual, but in his state, even simply speaking was a feat.

You had been sluggishly fighting against his persistent grip on you, yet once you heard him speak, a loud gasp of shock escaped you, and your body stiffened under his. The way you tensed up made your back arch and your ass stick out even more. His focus shifted to your half-clad bottom, which was hovering only inches from his face. The drenched fabric of your panties had somehow stuck to the side, teasing him - torturing him - with that mouthwavering sight of you. 

Oh, what a struggle it was for him to refrain from seeking your heat again and then shoving himself inside you, once and for all. He was shivering with restraint while proceeding to keep you pinned to the mattress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back, though.

He wanted you to know who he was before he finally and thoroughly claimed you as his. His pride somehow exceeded his yearning.

"B-Brahms...?" You hesitantly whispered his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of him behind your shoulder. You could only make out a dark silhouette in your peripheral vision, for both the darkness of the room and his tight clasp prevented you from seeing anything else. "How-? W-what?"

Your voice was a little louder this time, and you sounded sharper. He also noticed with satisfaction that you were now remaining still under his hold. That was good. It would make things easier. He'd prefer not to fight you, not to force you... But if you were to refuse him... He would not hold back... He couldn't...

"You don't have to be alone anymore in this big, scary house." 

He made sure to stress out the last words, the same ones you used when you had confided your wish to the doll. He wanted you to understand… That wicked side of him wanted you to realise that he had always been there, watching you, listening in on you... That you have never truly been alone.

"Aren't you happy?"

He couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. His palm pressed harder onto your spine, imperceptibly rubbing up and down, seeking your touch. He found himself edging closer to you, his mask nearly touching your asscheek, his other hand ready to commit another despicable sin, the worst one yet.

“Let me see you? Please?"

He stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by your words.

You had asked so sweetly, your voice such a gentle caress to his ears, how could he have declined your request? After all, he had longed to have those gorgeous eyes of yours fall on him, finally seeing him, since the first day. And what would have been better than having you looking at him as he ravished you? Watching lust twist your features, the pleasure - he was igniting in you - flooding your lovely eyes. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as the vivid image arose in his mind, aggravating the torture.

Brahms loosened his grip, allowing you to turn around and lie on your back. As soon as your eyes met his, you let out another loud gasp. His gut flipped at the way your wide eyes flitted across his mask, chest, thighs, taking him all in.

You saw him. You were looking at him. Ah, what a dream... What a dream come true...

He wondered what was going through your pretty little head. How did it make you feel to know that the kid's voice you've occasionally heard reverberating through the mansion over the past few weeks hadn't come from a possessed doll or an imprisoned spirit... But from him. Your Brahms, in flesh and blood.

“B-Brahms…”

The way you tentatively called his name while looking up at him like a deer in the headlights was pure bliss.

He nodded enthusiastically in response and drew closer to you. His gaze flickered from your face to your hand, which he noticed slowly reaching up in his direction. He jerked back instantly out of reflex, frightened like a beaten dog meeting a loving hand for the first time, but as soon as he realized there was no threat in your intentions, he leaned back in and allowed you to touch his mask. Oh, how he yearned to feel your soft palm caressing his wounded cheek... to feel your gentle touch skin on skin… But that would have to be enough for the moment.

Now that he had your full attention. Now that you knew who he was and that no harm would come from him… with your eyes staring up at him with such awe and wonder… 

He couldn't wait any longer. 

His hand eagerly slipped between your thighs, fingers greedily seeking your heat. He caught with utmost satisfaction the way your eyes widened again, your lips parting to let out a shocked cry; you looked so adorable… so desirable… so vulnerable…

He kept his ever-attentive gaze fixed on you, desperate to catch your every reaction, as he stroked your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“W-what are you… Ah!~”

A tremor pierced him as he felt your body tremble so sharply when he easily entered you, triggering a loud whine from you as he drove his fingers deep into your walls.

His breathing was extremely shallow, and he could see your chest raise and fall as you began panting as well; the sight only served to add fuel to his burning desire, leaving him eager to make you cry and shiver just like that over and over again. 

His movement against you was firm but frantic, fueled by his long-repressed need, which was causing him to shudder and whimper as he fingered you. He had no idea what he was doing, but your moans and squeals were guiding and urging him to keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside you which seemed to make you scream the loudest.

“N-no… W-w-wait…”

Your hands shakily reached down to seize his and halt his actions, but he quickly grasped your wrists and pinned them both on your belly, holding them down with one palm while continuining on driving his fingers back and forth, unrelentingly, into you. He could tell you liked it, the lewd sounds you were making told him as much. He knew his actions were pleasing you. Your cunt was so wet, and your walls welcomed his long fingers with such hunger, swallowing them fully with each push.

How would it feel to sink inside you? To have your tight, spongy walls suck and squeeze his cock dry? Would his cum leak back out? It always did when he used his doll, the one he had turned to look just like you… He constantly had to push his fluids back inside the hole…

“Brahms... S-stop… Ah!”

Your broken whimpers sounded so cute. You were so cute. What were you asking of him? Certainly not to stop. Not that he would or could. The feeling of making you squirm under his touch was intoxicating, a feeling he had just discovered and yet couldn't get enough of. He had already grown addicted. The sight of you laying there completely vulnerable, completely his, was filling him with such a rush of euphoria. 

He released your wrists, disregarding the way you immediately but weakly started tugging at his hand again in protest. Instead, he reached down to his trousers, letting out a deep guttural grunt when he felt the dampness of the material, soaked with his seed. Leaked precum? Or did he burst into his pants without even realising? It didn't matter. His cock was hard and throbbing when he grabbed it, ready to slip out of the restraining cloth and finally sink inside you… He couldn’t wait, oh no, he couldn’t wait anymore-

“I said stop!” 

His entire body shuddered violently, and his senses suddenly sharpened as if he had just awoken from a trance. Both his hands abruptly came to a halt.

He wasn't sure if he was shaking more from the thrill your imposing tone caused in him or the excruciating hunger that was gnawing at him, demanding to be satiated. Possibly both combined given the intensity of the tension that had taken hold of his body.

Brahms stared at you with bated breath and childish fear, like a misbhehaving boy caught in the act of some deplorable deeds by his strict mother. He didn't dare to make a sound nor move an inch as he waited to be scolded.

A strange glint passed your eyes, one that he could barely catch, let alone decipher. However, your entire demeanour seemed to alter abruptly in response to his reaction.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He gasped. A flood of dread shook his entire being and made his stomach churn upon hearing your stern tone. Did he upset you? Were you angry at him? He couldn't bear it. Oh no… He only wished to please you... Only ever wished to please you...

"What were you doing, mh?" 

Brahms vehemently shook his head, his panicked gaze glued on your hard look. 

“Brahms.”

Your commanding tone made him shudder again. He cowered, crouching down and dropping his head on your lap. He didn't dare admit what he was about to do, what he had been doing long before you woke up.

"Brahms!"

He felt your hands pull on his arms, but he only pressed his head further against you, burying his face in your womb, his whimpers muffled by your skin. His hands reached to your sides, holding you vehemently but not threateningly. He wanted to show you how good he was. How good he could be for you. He was sorry. Yes. He was terribly sorry. He would never upset you again.  

"Please…" He pleaded in his childish voice, nuzzling his forehead into your belly.

"Please, what?"

He tightened his grip on your sides and cried again, "Pleaseee… I need you…" 

His meekness only increased as you delayed to answer. His hands cradled your body, fingers clutching desperately at your nightgown and creasing the material. His head anxiously swayed back and forth as he rubbed his mask against you.

"Use your real voice."

Another tremor shook his body and he quickly obeyed your command. 

"I need you."

His voice came out low and hoarse, such a stark contrast to his childish tone. It caused a vibration in your tummy. He could feel how your body shivered in reaction. 

Raising his head to meet your gaze, he noticed that your eyes had widened significantly. Was it because of his voice? The way he begged? Did you like it? He could beg you again and again in his real voice, if it pleased you so. If that meant you’d let him have you.

"I need you, please…" 

His fingers travelled slowly along your sides, gingerly getting closer to your panties again, quivering with impatience and constraint. He kept his imploring look on you as he stroked his fingertips on the damp fabric before slipping them inside to rub against your folds once more. 

He saw your eyelids flutter and your chest rise harshly as you took a deep breath.

He whimpered as he felt your fingers weave into his curls and then capture them abruptly in a tight clasp.

"Lay down, Brahms." 

He merely lingered for a moment to process what you had requested of him. Then he did it. He lay down on the mattress without question. Eager to please you. Desperate to be in your good graces. He would do anything for you. 

His entire body was trembling with anticipation, a deep-seated urge to be touched threatening to overtake him as you climbed on top of him, claiming his former position. His body craved your touch so badly, yet he had to wait until you decided to put him out of his misery.

“You’re such a naughty boy. You know that?”

When he felt your weight on him and your groin sitting directly on his bulge, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his hips buck up instinctively. Only his unbuttoned pants separated his arousal from your heat.

He was losing his mind…

"Nobody ever taught you that's not how good boys are supposed to behave, mh?"

More whimpers flowed from his parted lips as you began to grind against him, painfully slowly but with force. He struggled to keep his eyes open and locked in yours; his quivering hands went up to hold your hips, seeking to control your movements, but you intercepted them and forced them down on the pillow on either side of his face. He let you keep them still.

"Please…"

"I will teach you… Yes, yes... I will teach you. Bad boys never get their way, no matter how much or how long they beg."

Brahms had always obtained whatever he wanted since he was a little boy. If he couldn't have it, he'd take it himself. But he wasn't going to admit it to you. He merely groaned and twitched in response, every inch of his body ignited by your leisurely and frustrating movement against him.

He craved being inside you... To spill his load deep within your core... but he was so worked up… he had been holding back for so long, too long… and the way you moved was so rousing, provoking him just enough to…

His body abruptly convulsed underneath you, a deep sigh of relief escaping from his lips as a dark and large wet stain appeared on the material of his trousers. All of the desire coursing through him reached a fever pitch that consumed every inch of his body.

He had never experienced such an intense and violent orgasm before. He had jerked off numerous times, but cumming never felt so good... 

Brahms was still trembling and panting when his eyes opened again to meet yours. You had stopped moving when he started spasming. Even in the dark, he could see the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and glazed as they stared down at him, your own breath coming in short. 

"F-Fuck-"

His eyes were fixed on you, watching you as you gulped and shivered, clearly shaken by what had just happened. Your gaze kept darting back and forth between his pants and mask. When he felt your hands release his wrists, he pulled yours back, drawing you forward and causing you to fall on top of him with a yelp.

Brahms buried his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent was stronger than before, his nostrils filled with your natural aroma. His fingers trailed over your skin, feeling how clammy it was and relishing the way you shivered at the touch. He moved on along the curve of your neck until he reached the edge of your nightgown and peeled it down without hesitation, this time dragging it low enough to prevent it from rolling back up. The sight of your breasts made his stomach flip, just like it had done the first time. His body started to become stiffer once more. 

“Again…” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your torso so you could sit on his lap just like before, straddling his groin. He could feel himself getting harder all over again. He could not possibly resist you.

"B-Brahms?"

His hands greedily mapped your body, groping every curve and dip they found. His touch soon became frantic and urgent.

"Again, again, again!"

He hastily freed his growing erection from his pants and without giving you time to register what was happening, he seized your waist and pulled you down onto him. 

At last, you had become one. 

The quiet room filled with both his and your moans of pleasure, which only grew louder as Brahms started guiding your hips up and down, each time with greater force, allowing him to fully sink into you. You were so warm, and the way your tight walls clenched around his cock was more intoxicating than he could have anticipated. It was maddening. The sound of your cunt slapping against his groin was the the best sound he had ever heard. He mentally added it to the list of pleasures he had so quickly become addicted to and sought to experience again and again and again...

He was a mess of sweat and whimpers and tremors, and so were you. 

Ah, to finally have you! To finally take you as his! This was everything he had ever dreamed and yearned for. You would never be alone or feel lonely again, and neither would he! 

Please you night and day, whenever and wherever! That's what he intended to do.

Oh, yes. 

He will be such a good boy for you.

MORE STORIES 🥀

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[Should I make a nsfw version of my fanart? 🤔 I'd like to try my hand at nsfw art. Let me know if you'd be interested in seeing it.]

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[s6ngbird]

pretty little dove — coriolanus snow ༘❀⋆

♡‧₊ warnings — nsfw, p in the v, pretty much no plot, unprotected sex, kinda dub-con(?), coryo being mean

♡‧₊ pairing — peacekeeper!coryo x fem!reader

♡‧₊ a/n — erm i'm still new to this whole warning stuff so lmk if i forgot stuff 😭

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

when coriolanus came to district 12, he had one goal in mind, to find lucy gray

but now that he was here and had seen lucy gray again, he realized he didn't much care for her anymore

his eyes were now set on you, a poor district girl who was just trying to steal some food to feed herself until he caught you

and you fled, checking every minute or so behind you to make sure the peacekeeper wasn't following you

and you didn't see anyone thank god, you didn't know that coriolanus had let you off the hook this time but he knew he was going to have you either way

what you didn't know is that over time, as you started getting mysterious packages with food, was that coriolanus had been watching you and memorizing your schedule 

some might call it stalking, but to coryo, he was just watching out for you

who knows what could happen if he left you alone, what if some creep started stalking you?

you decided to cross the district line one day, after being told by lucy gray about how nice and peaceful it was

as you walked through the tall grass, picking up a flower and looking its pretty colors, it reminded you of the certain peacekeeper who had let you go that one day and how blue his eyes were

your happiness is cut short though, seeing a shadow fall over you and looking up to see that it was the certain peacekeeper 

“you want to explain yourself sweetheart?” he said, crouching down so that he could be eye to with you

“i was just trying to have some peace, y'know the district isn't the best place?” you said, not scared of him, why should you be?

he chuckled, moving a piece of your hair and standing up

“i like you, but you know acting like that and crossing the district line is going to get you in trouble, hm?” 

you stood up and smiled at him

“well i'm glad you were the one who caught me” you say, getting ready to leave before coriolanus kisses you hard, catching you off guard and quickly pulling away

“well i’ll see you later dove, don't let me catch you here again” he said with a smirk, and with that he left

you were stunned, unsure what that was, you had never realized that it could be possible that a peacekeeper could like a district girl

but hey there's always a first time for everything 

just like being fucked for the first time, out in the forest against a tree by the same peacekeeper who had warned you not to cross the district line again

and of course you paid no heed to his words, why would you? it's not like he was going to personally hunt you down if you did

wrong.

you also thought that he didn't like you and just wanted to turn you in

also wrong.

he was currently kissing you hard, his tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands was rolling your nipple between his fingers, after he had ripped your thin shirt off

you cried at first when this all happened but then you felt his cock enter your soaking cunt you fell silent

this would be the first time you had ever been fucked before and it was obvious to coryo

“shit dove, loosen up for me will you? you’re so fucking tight, gripping me like a damn vice” he said, after getting his whole cock in while you kept clenching

you didn’t say a thing, you just tried to relax, but then he started moving at an unforgiving pace, breaching your cervix every so often as you gripped his shoulders, digging your nails through the fabric 

your legs started shaking and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks and coryo noticed this, laughing as you continued to slam into you, chasing his release 

he licked up your tears, reaching a hand between you two to rub your clit in order to make you come faster

coryo might not be the best man, but he’s willing to make sure you also get some pleasure through him (he just wants you to enjoy it so he can do it again later)

he fucks into you harder, kissing you over and over again to distract you from any pain or discomfort he might be causing you 

you start to feel something building up and it scares you since you had never had the experience of being fucked by anyone, let alone someone like coryo

“oh my fucking god” you feel a knot snap as you come undone on his cock, your legs shaking even more as you cling onto to coryo for dear life

he holds you up, his touch is gentle which is quite opposite of how he fucking you and laughing at your reactions

“no more please” you say, feeling tired as coryo continued to slam into you, eliciting broken moans from you 

his hips stutter and you feel something warm coat your insides, the color draining from your face as he pulls out, still holding you up and shoving his fingers in to make sure all of his cum stays in

you let out a moan as he does but he quickly takes his fingers out, shoving them in another hole, your mouth, making you taste his cum

“yeah…lick it up you dirty little slut, you gonna be mine now hm?”

[solar-wing]

⚣ Jealousy Is A Disease 🟢

⚣🟢 A/N → DON'T ASK ME WHY, I DON'T KNOW OKAY! I just can't write a Hal Jordan fic without making it about his incessant need to be better than Superman. I'M TRYING OKAY! anyway, hope you like it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Major Dub-Con Themes | M-Preg Themes | Penetrative Sex | Fingering | Overstimulation | Alpha Hal Jordan | JL Omega Male Reader |

⚣🟢 Summary → Y/N's knows he's got a little heat brewing between him and Superman, but something is going to get in the way of that. He should've known better than to have entered into any sort of arrangement with Hal Jordan. Not only was the man super cocky and sarcastic, but he was literally green with envy.

⚣🟢 Words → 3.7K

REBLOGS & replies are appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🟢

The Watchtower had been relatively quiet.

Y/N had been talking with Clark about some matters related to supervillains' plots, potential recruits, and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo that he wasn't really paying attention to because he was too busy eyeing the Kryptonian's body. The Omega knew his heat was getting close and that he would probably have to take some time off soon to deal with it.

But, it didn't stop him from imagining Clark's large and muscled body over his while they rutted against each other all sweaty and hot and-

"Y/N? You ok there?" Clark's voice interrupted his thoughts, the Omega blushing when he saw the look on the man's face. He had noticed his staring and it had probably led him to realize the nature of his thoughts.

The Kryptonian had a knowing smirk on his face, though. He'd been more or less aware of the Omega's attraction towards him, and it definitely wasn't one-sided. Clark may not have been an Alpha by nature of his Kryptonian biology, but it didn't mean he didn't consider himself to be one in many aspects. He certainly had the physique of one, and he did have a few...kinks that came with the territory.

"I-I'm sorry, I got a little distracted." Y/N chuckled nervously, feeling his cheeks heating up. He didn't know how the Kryptonian would react to his blatant display of lust, but he didn't think it would be bad. Clark was always so nice to him and he had a good sense of humor. Plus, the Omega really wanted to know what was under those suits.

"Don't worry about it. You know I get distracted too sometimes." The Kryptonian smiled, his eyes lingering on Y/N's flushed face before traveling down the length of his body. The Omega suit was one for the books, the tight-fitting material leaving nothing to the imagination. Y/N looked damn good, and he knew it.

"So, uh, what were we talking about again?" Y/N asked, clearing his throat.

While the two continued their little flirtatious and flustered dialogue, neither of them was aware of the presence watching them through the door, his eyes under his green mask narrowing in anger and jealousy.

Later that night, Y/N was getting ready to head home. His heat was coming closer and closer, and he knew he had to spend his next few days in his apartment and away from everyone.

As the Omega neared the Zeta Gateway that would take him back to the Hall of Justice, his arm was suddenly snatched and he was pulled into an empty room. Y/N was ready to fight whoever it was, but a familiar scent invaded his senses.

"Hey there, sexy. Missed me?" Green Lantern smirked as he looked down at the Omega's shocked face.

"Hal! What the hell are you doing?" Y/N whispered. "Someone might see us!"

"I was just thinking that maybe we could have a little fun before you go home. It's not like anyone's gonna come here at this hour." Hal said as he moved closer to Y/N, backing him toward the wall.

"I have to go. My heat's coming up." The Omega said, stopping him before he could make any more moves.

"You always say that. And then we end up fucking anyway."

"Not this time. I need to rest. It's going to be a very intense one." Y/N tried to reason, but the Alpha wasn't having it.

"C'mon, baby. Just one more time." Hal whispered in his ear, his breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "Let me have a taste."

The Alpha leaned forward and began kissing and biting Y/N's neck, his hands moving to grip his waist. The Omega could feel his arousal getting excited at the stimulation, but he had to stay strong. He knew his body would crave an Alpha's touch during his heat, and there was a certain blue and red-wearing superhero that he was more interested in.

"H-Hal, no! Stop!" Y/N said, pushing him away. "No more of this. I'm not gonna let you fuck me anymore, understand?"

"What the hell's gotten into you?" The Alpha growled. "You're always begging for it, and now you're pushing me away?"

"Yeah, well, things change." Y/N sighed, moving to leave the room. "Just stay away from me."

"Who is it, huh?" Hal asked, blocking his way.

"It's not like that," Y/N said, knowing full well he was lying through his teeth, "It's just that I think we should keep things strictly professional from now on."

"Bullshit. You weren't concerned about keeping things professional all the times I fingered you during meetings. Or all the times you sucked me off in the training room."

"Hal, I–"

"Did you care about professionalism when I fucked your tight little cunt while Batman was right outside that door? Or when you rode my dick in the showers? Huh?" Hal said, his voice raising a bit.

"Quit it, Hal. You're being rid–"

"Or all the close calls we had when I knotted you without a condom, and you thought you were gonna get pregnant? I bet you were hoping for it, weren't you?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Y/N shouted, his patience running thin. "I don't have time for your bullshit, Jordan. Now, move."

"Oh, now you're giving me orders? Is that how it is?" Hal growled, his own Alpha pheromones responding.

"Will you please shut the fuck up?!" Y/N growled, his scent turning sour. He couldn't believe the nerve of this man!

"No, you shut the fuck up! You're acting like a whore who's too good for me." Hal growled, his scent becoming heavier with the stench of anger.

"A whore, huh? I'm a whore for letting you fuck me whenever you wanted, and now I'm a whore for wanting to stop the fuck-fest, is that it? You're the one who wanted this, remember? You're the one who was all up on me in the first place, so don't play the victim."

"You're such a fucking tease. You act like a slut and then you expect me to leave you alone?"

"Yeah, and I'm also an Omega who could easily have an Alpha whenever I want. Don't forget that."

Hal clearly didn't like the mention of that. He was an Alpha, Air Force pilot and a Green Lantern. He wasn't supposed to be a side dish.

"I'm not someone you can fuck whenever you're bored, Y/N." The Alpha growled, his scent spiking.

"Well, guess what, Jordan, I'm not your toy either. We both had our fun, but I'm done with this. I don't want you anymore, and I certainly don't need you. So, move."

Before Y/N could move an inch, Hal lunged at him, tackling him to the conference table in the middle of the room. The two of them started wrestling and fighting, the Omega's pheromones spiking as he did his best to keep his body in check while trying to get the upper hand.

The fight didn't last long, though.

Y/N was soon pinned underneath the Alpha, his wrists in a tight grip above his head. Hal's free hand was holding his chin, forcing him to look at him.

"I can't believe you'd say something like that to me. After everything we've been through." The Alpha said, his voice low.

"Let go of me." Y/N struggled, trying to get out of the Alpha's hold.

"Not until you admit that you want me. That you're mine."

"In your dreams, Jordan. I don't belong to you. I'm not some prize that you can claim."

"I can do whatever I want. I'm an Alpha and I'm Green Lantern," Hal smirked, his grip on Y/N's wrists tightening as he rubbed the hard-on throbbing under his suit against the weaker male, "And you're an Omega. My Omega. You're gonna submit."

"You're not my Alpha, and you may be Green Lantern, but you'll never be Superman," Y/N said, ignoring the pleasurable tingles running through his body from the Alpha grinding against him while sporting his spiteful little smirk at the Alpha, "You'll never be him."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hal questioned with a growl.

"I know you're jealous of him, Hal. You put on this cocky, self-assured facade, but deep down, you hate that Superman is everything you wish you could be. He's not even technically an Alpha and yet, everyone respects him. Everyone trusts him. He's the perfect hero, and you're not."

"You're wrong."

Y/N could see he was hitting some nerves, and despite the warnings in his head telling him to stop, he couldn't, "Am I? So why is it that every time he's near me, you're always watching me? Always trying to get my attention. You're always trying to assert your dominance as if that's going to make me want you more."

"Stop talking," Hal ordered, not even realizing how he was slowly grinding his hard erection against the Omega's slick dripping heat, the friction from their uniforms making it all the more pleasurable.

"You're always going on and on about how you're an Alpha and Superman's not, and yet, he's the first person who comes to mind when anyone thinks of a traditional or a perfect Alpha."

"That's enough."

"And what does that say about you, Hal?"

"Shut the fuck up!" The Alpha roared, his scent becoming suffocating as he tightened his hold on Y/N's wrists, his hips rutting faster and harder against the Omega's crotch.

"You're a disgrace to the Green Lantern Corps, Hal. And you're a disgrace to the Air Force." Y/N continued, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and lust as he stared at the Alpha above him.

"That's not true," Hal said, his voice faltering slightly.

"Is it? Because the way I see it, you're nothing more than a second-rate Green Lantern, a third-rate Alpha, and a fifth-rate superhero," The Omega ended, a venom to his words as he tauntingly smiled at the Alpha rutting against his body, his scent sweetening as his orgasm arrived already due to the increasingly sensitive state of his body from his heat approaching.

"SHUT UP!"

Hal lost control, his instincts taking over as he ripped the fabric of Y/N's suit. He couldn't stand the disrespect and the insults, and he needed to make the Omega eat his words. He needed to show he was better than the Kryptonian. He had to himself as the stronger Alpha, as the only Alpha.

He needed to prove that he was the best.

Y/N's moans were music to his ears, his slick coating his fingers as he pushed two digits inside the smaller male's tight cunt, the Alpha growling in arousal as the warmth wrapped around him. The Omega had to grip the edges of the table that he could reach to keep himself steady as his body rocked with overwhelming stimulation from Hal's fingers entering him so roughly while he was still in the middle of his first orgasm.

"A-ah, fuck ... ! H-Hal, stop.." Y/N moaned, his legs shaking as his walls fluttered around the Alpha's fingers.

His hand was around the Omega's throat, squeezing tightly as he forced him to look at him, "Don't you ever say those things to me again. Do you hear me? I'm not a failure. I'm not a failure."

"You are...a failure." Y/N choked out, his eyes watering.

At this point, the Omega had slowly given into his body's most primal desires, his mindset slowly slipping into that of a sex-crazed, needy little shit who just wanted to get fucked and knotted, thanks to his heat.

The Alpha snarled at the insult, his fingers thrusting deeper and harder. His thumb rubbed circles around the Omega's nub, the bundle of nerves sending jolts of pleasure up the smaller male's body. His focus had become solely on proving himself. He needed to show the Omega who was in charge.

"Stop saying that! Stop it! You're lying!" Hal growled, his pace quickening.

"Y-you're a f-failure. You'll...never be Superman," Y/N panted, his mind growing clouded. "You'll never b-be my A-Alpha."

"I'll be your Alpha. I'll be better than him. Better than any of them."

Within just another few minutes, The Alpha pulled another mind-shattering orgasm from the Omega, his scent heavy and intoxicating. He pulled out his fingers, licking his lips as he watched the mixed slick and cum dripping from them. He moved his hand up to the Omega's mouth, smearing the wetness across his lips.

"Suck them."

"No..." Y/N whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Do it. Now." Hal demanded, his grip on the Omega's neck tightening.

The squeeze against the smaller male's neck had his mouth opening with a quiet yelp in reflex, allowing the Alpha's fingers to enter. The taste was sweet and salty, and the Alpha couldn't help but growl in arousal as he watched the Omega suck his digits clean.

"That's it, baby. Get them nice and clean. You like the taste of your body, don't you?"

Once the Alpha had pulled his fingers out, the Omega's eyes were glazed over. His scent was so strong and thick, and it was almost enough to make the Alpha's knees weak. He wasn't done yet, though. He still needed to show no one was better than him.

Especially not Superman.

Hal ripped the front of his Green Lantern uniform open (it was okay, it magically came on and off anyway), exposing his toned chest and abs. His cock sprung free, already leaking precum. He positioned himself at the Omega's entrance, his tip rubbing against the wet entrance.

"Look at me." The Alpha growled, grabbing the Omega's chin.

Y/N's gaze was half-lidded, his pupils blown wide. His skin was flushed and his breathing was heavy. He could feel the Alpha's cock throbbing against him, the tip catching on his rim every so often.

"Still think I'm a failure? Still think I'm not good enough?" Hal growled.

"You're not..."

Y/N cried out as the Alpha entered him roughly, the sudden intrusion making him clench around the thick shaft. His body was overly sensitive, and the feeling of being filled was almost too much. He couldn't stop his hips from rolling forward, his thighs shaking.

"Oh, God...!"

"Doesn't seem like I'm a failure, does it?"

"Fuck...Hal, please, I can't take it.." Y/N begged, his body trembling.

"No, you'll take it. You'll take every inch of me." The Alpha growled, his hands gripping the Omega's waist as he began thrusting in and out, his pace fast and rough.

"No, please, Hal...stop, I can't...!"

"You can, and you will."

Hal's fingers dug into Y/N's sides, his thrusts growing faster and harder. His eyes were trained on the Omega's face, taking in the sight of his tear-stained cheeks and the drool dripping from his lips. The scent coming from the smaller male was so sweet and tempting, the Alpha's nostrils flaring as he breathed it in.

"Fuck, you're always so tight. Such a good little Omega for me."

"N-no, I'm not...I'm not..."

"Yes, you are. You're mine. My Omega."

The Alpha leaned forward, his teeth grazing the Omega's neck. He could feel the smaller male's pulse-quickening, his body shivering as the Alpha's warm breath ghosted across his skin.

"You're mine, Y/N. No one else's."

"H-Hal..."

"You're gonna be my mate, and you're gonna carry my seed and give me my first kid. I deserve it. I'm a better Alpha than any of them."

"N-nh ... ah ... n-no."

"Yes, you will. I'll fill you up with my cum, and I'll make sure it takes."

Hal leaned down over the Omega's body, his front pressing against the smaller male's chest as he continued his relentless assault on his cunt. His thrusts were deep and hard, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the air.

"Mine...mine...mine." The Alpha growled, his lips ghosting over the Omega's jaw and neck.

"H-Hal, please...it h-hurts." Y/N choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks as his hands clawed at the Alpha's wrist.

"Yeah, that's right. Beg. Who's a third-rate Alpha now, huh? Who's a failure now, Y/N?" Hal snarled while nipping the Omega's jaw and neck, the sound of the conference table creaking and groaning under their weight.

Y/N had already been through his third climax at this point, his body overstimulated and sore all over from the Alpha's rough treatment. He couldn't think straight, his mind overwhelmed by the pleasure and pain coursing through him.

"H-Hal, no, s-stop, p-plea–"

The Omega's cries were cut off by the Alpha's hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing tightly.

"Shut the fuck up. I'll let you breathe and talk when you're ready to admit who you belong to. Not before."

"H-Hal..."

The Alpha's hips were slamming into the Omega's, the sound of their bodies coming together echoing throughout the room. His knot was swelling, his thrusts growing more and more erratic.

Hal had never fucked him so brutally before, landing a harsh slap on the side of his bottom every so often while squeezing his neck even tighter. His insides felt like they were on fire, his walls clenching and throbbing around the Alpha's length.

"All that talk earlier and now look at you, crying and begging for me to stop. What happened to you thinking I'm a failure, huh? Did you change your mind?"

"I-I d-didn't. Y-you're a f-failure." Y/N managed to choke out despite his oxygen-deprived brain.

The Alpha's thrusts grew even harder, his knot catching on the Omega's rim every so often. He was close, his cock pulsating and throbbing inside the smaller male. He leaned up to stare the smaller male in the face, preparing to breed the smart-mouth brat while glaring at him through his mask.

"I can't wait to see Superman's face when you're round with my kid, knowing that you'll be mine and no one else's. And it'd better be a boy and an Alpha, or we'll be right back where we started," Hal growled, his grip on the Omega's throat tightening once more.

He continued hammering away at the Omega's heat, getting closer and closer to his end while Y/N approached his fourth, "Hope you weren't planning on having that weak Kryptonian with you during your heat. Because I'm gonna fuck you until you're pregnant, and then you're not gonna leave my side until I know you're carrying my child."

"P-perv..." Y/N weakly muttered, the Alpha's thrusts hitting his sweet spot repeatedly as he was forced to look into the Alpha's mask.

"Say what you want, but you know you're mine. And don't think I'm not going to punish you for those words earlier. I'll have you gagged and tied to the bed until you're carrying my kid. No protection this time."

Despite the lack of air in his lungs, Y/N, through the cloggy fog of his sex-muddled brain managed to mutter out one more thing before meeting his fate on the Green Lantern's knot, "I'd rather have Superman's kid than your failure spawn."

And just like that, Hal's grip on his throat tightened and his knot swelled and caught inside the Omega's hot cavern, his cock releasing his hot load while he growled, "That's it. You're gonna get it now."

Hal's knot kept his cum from spilling out of the Omega's throbbing walls, his grip tightening even more around the Omega's neck as he choked the life out of the smaller male.

The seething anger across Hal's face as he bred the Omega with his cum while he struggled to breathe was the last thing Y/N saw before blacking out.

While Y/N slipped into unconsciousness, Hal got the eerie feeling he was being watched, turning to see a trail of a familiar red cape through the small window in the door.

Superman.

The Alpha felt a sense of accomplishment and superiority, smirking as his hand squeezed the Omega's neck and the other ran down his body, settling at the base of his stomach, "Don't worry, Y/N, I'll take care of you. I'll prove to you who's the best Alpha. Just you wait."

When his knot finally deflated, Hal pulled out his limp cock from the Omega's sloppy hole. He watched as his cum spilled out of the smaller male's pink and puffy cunt, his fingers scooping some up. He pushed it back inside, his smirk growing wider.

He re-formed his entire suit while doing his best to cover him before slinging his unconscious form over his shoulder, making his way out of the room and the Hall. He was going to have his Omega, whether he liked it or not.

He was going to breed him and make him bear his child, and no one was going to stop him.

Hal had been walking for a few minutes when a large gust of wind nearly knocked him over, Superman standing before him, his expression unreadable, "What the hell do you want, Kryptonian?"

"Give him to me."

"No."

"That wasn't a request, Jordan," Clark growled, his eyes narrowing, "Give him to me."

"I don't think so. I'm the only Alpha here, and I'm going to take him back home. I'll show him that I'm the better man. And there's nothing you can do but accept it," Hal said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"Like hell, I am," Clark said, his eyes glowing red.

Hal barely had time to react before the Omega was ripped from his shoulder and cradled in Superman's arms, "What the hell?! Get your hands off him, you bastard!"

"I'm not the bastard, Hal. That title goes to you," Clark growled, his tone cold, "Now, stay away from Y/N. If I find out you've touched him again, I'll personally deliver your ring back to Oa myself. Got it?"

The Green Lantern was left speechless, watching as the Kryptonian flew off with the Omega. He was pissed, and he knew he had to get him back. He wouldn't let Superman steal what was rightfully his.

"Alright, then. Round three it is, fly-boy."

☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[allfearstofallto]

saw yr posts abt submissive yanderes, and hear me out, tartaglia. i mean this from the bottom of my heart he is the one that wants you to do things to him, and while that’s not exactly submission i think it’s close enough?

just… in my mind he wants anything you’ll give him, he’ll give his body up to you, even if you punch and kick him, he takes it, sure he’d rather you treat him the way he would (does?) you, but any touch you give makes him feel like a wild animal.

tartaglia, who just needs you. idek i’m losing my train of thought 🙏

I don't think it's exactly what you wanted, but I got carried away and wrote masochist Childe👉🏾👈🏾. I hope that's okay!!! Personally, as a woman who loves femdom, it felt so good to write this though!! It was like I was going back to my roots.

TW: NSF.W Yandere themes, BDSM (bondage, sadism/masochism), violence, nipple play, unprotected sex, finishing inside, dub-con, overstimulation(?), choking

“Hurt me more,” he cooed while looking up at you with big, eyes full of anticipation. Drool leaking from his lips, his cheek was already red and warm from your stinging slap across it, “C’mon, I know you hate me. Now's your chance to treat me like you do.” He'd goad you with that same smug, smirk on his face.

Childe's big strong arms were tied with a rope to the headboard. The material was tight, digging into the flesh of his wrist anytime he'd struggle against them. But despite the aching pain you could imagine he was feeling, he showed a face of hunger, of desire for more.

His cock, large and twitching, was strained against his boxers, begging to be let free from its confines. When you brought another rough slap down across his cheek, you watched it twitch and leak and darken that already deep fabric with his precum, while he trembled with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

He'd grind his hips up, wanting you to free his aching dick, but you never did. You knew he could cum without it and he did too. Your hand would slide up his chiseled stomach, his body was always slightly colder than what it was supposed to be, and you squeezed one of his pink nipples between your finger tips. As hard as you could. Squeezing and twisting until your hand shook.

Lips clenched together, he muffled his own moans. His cock twitched in his underwear a few more times, the head of it rubbing against the precum he'd already spilled on his boxers .He came like that, the many shots of his semen continuing to soak the cloth until it began to drip down his cock again.

When he stilled from his orgasm, his body still twitching, he smiled at you lovingly. All the disgust you felt towards him still there, you'd turn away without a word.

You never took yourself to be much of a sadist, the idea of it being like a whisper of the night, never being brought to the day, but that was before Childe took you. Locked away in his home, falling victim to his torture that he called love, you felt animosity towards him grow. That animosity would turn into violent fits of rage, ones that he never took seriously. There was no way you could actually hurt a harbinger, especially without a vision, but that didn't stop you from trying. And one fateful day, you actually managed to connect a punch to his jaw.

It was your first time ever punching someone and felt more like you were hitting a brick wall than a person. You shook your sore hand out, immediately regretting what you'd done for the pain it caused you instead. But Childe stood there stiff, a little bruise forming on the side of his face. His eyes had rolled back, body beginning to shutter. His mouth agape, he let out a soft, low moan. You were going to tell him to stop joking around, that he wasn't funny, until he dropped to his knees in front of you, a wet patch forming on the front of his pants. Childe had cum just from your little act of violence.

While he loved the art of fighting. The rush that ending another life gave him, the way his body felt while he was throwing punches, it was an unmatchable adrenaline rush, he never knew he was one for pain. Pain from your hands felt different. It felt pleasurable. A familiar stinging followed by tingles that shot through his body. Only you could do that to him.

“You're incredible, my angel,” he moaned while kissing up your thighs, wanting to do more with this new found knowledge of his.

He had you laid back on the bed, pounding into your tender cunt with little mercy. Each long stroke of his cock made your toes curl from the unwanted pleasure of him hitting your insides. Your legs on his hips, you squeezed the sheets for leverage as you begged for him to stop, or at the very least slow down. He was going to fast, too drunk and clumsy from the satisfaction your dripping pussy was giving him.

Childe’s large hand engulfed your wrist, a feeling you were familiar with. Instead of holding you in place so he could fuck you deeper into the mattress with less struggle from you like you thought he would, he lifted it up and placed your palm to his neck.

“Make me,” he growled, lust clouding his eyes. Uncertainty caused you to tremble for a moment before you realized that this was Childe, nothing you could do could actually hurt him. He was asking for it, even going as far as to lift your legs higher, to thrust into you deeper, to make you try to stop him more.

You squeezed that muscled throat, choking him with the hope that he might actually die, but knowing better. He loved it, his already obnoxious moans were even louder than before. His thrusts felt even more rough, hips slapping against yours as you actually felt yourself growing a little aroused from this and he noticed too. A smirk on his face as he struggled to inhale, but still fucking you at that same brutal pace with those same deep, strokes.

He strained to speak as he tried to tell you he was cumming, his mouth just opening and closing, drooling down his chin. Childe forced his cock balls deep inside of you, going so deep with his length it almost felt uncomfortable. He began to cum, dick twitching like mad against your walls. Soft whimpers and groans would drop from his lips as you didn't let go of him, only squeezing his throat tighter.

His cock didn't get the chance to soften, he stayed hard as he started slow, shallow thrusts into your pussy again. The mixture of the pain of overstimulation and lack of air from your choking has him convulsing, but he didn't pull out, using his own cum as lube.

“Ah…hah…just say you want to milk me dry, my love, I'll keep going,” he managed to grunt through tears, his orange hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

[adascore]

The Golden War

pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader

warnings: swearing. for culers the ‘22 uwcl final ig. jona is kinda mean in this.

author’s note: this is the same reader from my ‘one for the money, two for the show’ fic of the lionesses!captain. reader is basically ada hegerberg lolsies :) will be turned into a series.

masterlist

•••••

Turin, Italy - May, 2022

''The final has been dubbed as a duel between you and Alexia Putellas, do you experience it as that?''

The Lyon captain fought the urge to roll her eyes at the question, despite having expected it. ''It is a final between Barcelona and Lyon, nothing more than that.'' She answered, diplomatically- the way they had rehearsed it.

''Lyon is the underdog coming into this final- FC Barcelona has been unbeatable so far. What do you need to do in order to beat them tomorrow?'' Another reporter asked, a pen ready in his hand to take notes.

There was a slight change in her expression as the question left his lips, the man succeeding in poking through her stoic expression. ''Well, we have never lost to Barcelona- I don't know if you remember 3 years ago or even last year,''

Lyon had comfortably beaten the Spanish club in 2019. In that Champions League Final, Y/N had become the first player to score a hattrick in a UWCL final. Their last meeting had been in 2021, in the pre-season, where Lyon had won 3-2, the Lyon captain again putting one in the net.

''We have won this competition many times. There was football before Barcelona, and it was being played by us.''

Her last sentence of the quote had struck a nerve with the Barça captain.

''She acts like she has already won the whole thing.'' Alexia remarked as she read a transcript of the press conference.

Patri and Mapi glanced at one another, a knowing look in their eyes. ''Technically, there is nothing wrong about what she said, Ale. How many times has she won this competition now? 6? 7?'' The defender said, not having a problem with the opposition's words.

''She's just pissed that everyone is talking about us now.'' She ignored Mapi, continuing berating her opponent.

The rivalry between the captains of the two top teams had been something made up by the media, seeking a female counterpart to the famed Ronaldo-Messi rivalry. Both Alexia and Y/N led Europe's premier clubs, won the Champions League, captained their national teams, and earned the Ballon d'Or. This fueled incessant comparisons.

Alexia and Y/N hadn't given it much thought at first. There were also many differences between them; Alexia is a midfielder, while Y/N is a striker. Despite their similar ages, their careers took diverse paths. Alexia remained in the Spanish league, while Y/N gained experience across various countries.

Over time, an unexpected shift occurred. They began caring about each other's achievements. Yet, they knew the comparison wasn't fair.

Despite being younger, Y/N dominated women's football for longer, winning the Champions League seven times – twice with Wolfsburg and five times with Lyon. In contrast, Alexia secured one with Barcelona. Neither had won anything major with their national teams, though she had come close with England a few times. Furthermore, on the accolades side of things, Y/N led with a repertoire that most players could only dream of.

For a long time, it hadn't bothered Alexia. She had watched in admiration as the younger player became the first recipient of the Ballon d'Or, a huge step in women's football. Y/N's advocacy for the sport also didn't escape the Spanish player.

However, her admiration had turned into envy.

The turning point came in the 2019 final against Lyon. She had observed the way the English striker had celebrated with her entire team- how the Lyon squad immediately ran to her once the whistle blew and how Y/N bathed in all the (rightly deserved) glory. Alexia wanted that for herself. For years, Y/N had been the nail in Barcelona's coffin, scoring the goals that made sure they couldn't continue in the competition- in the captain's opinion, the striker had made a joke of her team for years, even if she didn't meant to do that.

Their interactions over the years were limited to polite handshakes before or after matches. Occasional encounters outside the pitch were rare and brief, seldom extending beyond a few sentences.

Alexia's surprise peaked when Y/N congratulated her on winning the Ballon d'Or through both private and public Instagram messages. Despite her reservations about comparisons and rivalry, receiving praise from someone she admired as one of the best in the game left Alexia with a positive feeling.

''No, I think she's just not a fan of being referred to as an underdog.'' Patri defended the Lyon striker.

This explanation didn't sit well with Alexia, evident from the displeasure on her face. ''Whatever,'' she retorted, looking forward to settling matters on the field that Saturday.

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Excitement, adrenaline, nerves, and tension permeated the tunnel of Juventus Stadium as Alexia, tightly gripping her pennant, stood at the front of her lined-up team, awaiting the opposing captain.

The sudden hush among the Barcelona team signaled the arrival of their counterpart. Turning around, Alexia frowned at her teammates' fascination with the approaching striker.

This is not the time to be fangirling, she thought to herself, as she saw most of her players' eyes following the striker's figure.

As the two top players faced each other, uncertainty lingered about whether they should exchange greetings. Y/N broke the silence, deciding to offer some acknowledgment. ''Hey, you alright?'' Her charming English accent filled the air.

''Yeah, and you?'' Alexia almost cringed at her own quick response, not giving her brain time to think.

''I‘ll see in about 90 minutes.'' The younger one grinned.

I'll wipe that smirk off your fucking face, Alexia said in her mind, not a fan of the confidence the striker was oozing.

Ten minutes later, the referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the highly-anticipated final.

Lyon applied intense pressure right from the start, managing to create two goal-scoring opportunities within the first three minutes of the match.

However, the audience were offered their first initial glimpse of the rivalry in the 6th minute of the game.

Y/N positioned herself strategically, eyes fixed on her teammate readying a precise pass to her. The ball zipped across the pitch, and in a heartbeat, both Y/N and Alexia were locked onto winning it for themselves.

The striker, a master of timing, surged forward. Simultaneously, the midfielder closed in on the target. The collision was inevitable.

Both players fell with a thud, groaning at the contact with the ground. Despite the force of the clash, they both showed resilience as they wanted to use the momentum to their advantage.

They were momentarily entangled, fighting for control of the ball. It was a brief display of the rivalry that had brewed between them.

Y/N rose swiftly from the turf, eyes filled with determination. The collision had only fueled her competitive fire. With the ball firmly at her feet, she accelerated away from the mess, leaving Alexia behind.

The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers as Y/N, now in open space, scanned the field. Seizing the opportunity, she unleashed a powerful strike from well outside the box.

Time seemed to slow as the ball sailed towards the goal. Panos's desperate dive was in vain as the ball found the back of the net. The roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium, a symphony of cheers and applause for a goal that showcased the skills and spirit of the Lyon captain.

A fleeting scowl crossed Alexia's face, frustrated at the missed opportunity.

Y/N turned on her heels as the net rippled, ready to embrace her teammates who were rushing to her.

''Vamos!'' She roared, the Spanish word escaping her lips like a battle cry.

Yet, she found herself face-to-face not with the familiar sight of Lyon jerseys but with the intensity of Alexia's determined gaze.

Her expression froze for a quick second, confusion adorning her features. Y/N's eyes widened in realization, and for a brief instant, the two captains locked eyes in an unspoken exchange.

The celebration continued around them, teammates engulfing Y/N as they screamed with delight at their captain's prolific opener. The air was filled with jubilation, but within the chaos, the tension lingered between the two captains, adding an intriguing layer to the unfolding drama on the pitch.

The match unfolded further, Barcelona grabbing a few opportunities of their own, but not being clinical enough to score an equalizer. The Spanish squad remained calm, showing no signs of panic in their play, despite being behind.

Selma and Melvine played a great one-two with each other, and the young defender shot a beautiful cross towards the box. Anticipating the trajectory of the ball, Y/N skillfully pulled away from Leon, who undoubtedly had the impossible task of marking the striker.

The ball connected with Y/N's forehead, falling perfectly into the mesh. The scoreboard illuminated with Lyon 2, Barcelona 0. The narrative had shifted as the favorites stomped the ground in frustration, while the ''underdogs'' celebrated another goal from their captain.

The first half flew by. Y/N managed to assist Catarina to make it 3-0, but Alexia found the back of the net to get one back.

3-1.

The second half saw more scoring opportunities for Barcelona, but no one managed to finish the job.

After contact with Martens, Griedge cited experiencing a cramp and asked for treatment- a request that the Barcelona side was not having. Y/N, understanding the frustration of time-wasting, especially when behind in a match, stood aside.

However, the Lyon captain didn't appreciate the scolding she received from the opposition's coach. ''Tell your player to stop the comedy, what a shit job!'' Jonatan exclaimed to the English captain, who observed the scene from the sideline.

Y/N didn't budge, paying him no attention, knowing it was all tactics. She gave an unimpressed look toward the referee, who had been observing the one-sided interaction.

The official ran up to them, pulling a yellow card from her pocket and holding it in front of the manager. ''Step back, please. Don't talk to the opposition.'' she instructed him.

The match eventually resumed. In extra time, Paredes almost managed to pull off a header, but it went flying over the post.

In the last minute of the game, Y/N teamed up with Eugénie to score a last-minute beauty, but the volley slammed against the post.

The piercing sound of the referee's whistle resonated through the stadium, marking the conclusion of the final. Lyon emerged triumphant for a record-extending 8th time.

Overwhelmed by her own emotions, Y/N fell to the ground as the whistle echoed in her ears. It didn't take too long for her teammates to rush up to her, colliding in a chaos of hugs, kisses, and jubilant shouts.

They had done it again, proving once more why all the records were tied to their name.

''Y/N, you're a fucking legend!'' Lindsey yelled in her ear, kissing her cheek multiple times.

As her teammates slowly got up from their celebratory cuddle with the ground, they formed a protective circle around their captain. Hands reached out to help her rise from the grass, and she found herself enveloped in a symphony of gratitude.

Eventually, she shook off her glorious daze, a wide grin etched on her face.

Y/N turned her attention to the defeated Barcelona players, spread out across the field with tears and disappointment staining their cheeks. She approached them, offering a helping hand to those still on the ground and sharing comforting words. Acknowledging the effort they had brought, she assured them that they gave her team a greater fight than the scoreline implied.

Before the Lyon squad embarked on their victory lap to greet the traveling supporters, Y/N's gaze fell on a heartbreaking scene. Across the field, the Spanish captain, Alexia, was cradled in a comforting embrace by a Barcelona staff member as tears streamed down her face.

Y/N hesitated, caught in a ''should I or shouldn't I'' moment with herself.

She chose to make an attempt to resolve whatever tension had built up between them.

Tears glistened on Alexia's cheeks, a testament to the intensity of the match and the dreams left unfulfilled. The Barcelona staff member, offering solace in the face of defeat, glanced up as Y/N approached, and let go of her.

''Alexia,'' Y/N greeted her softly, putting her arm around the Spaniard, ''thank you for the great battle.'' She hadn't prepared what to say, because what do you say against someone you feel like you are supposed to hate? What do you say against someone you've been constantly compared to for over a year?

To the striker's surprise, Alexia reciprocated, feeling an arm on her lower-back. ''Congratulations, you deserved the win. You played phenomenal.'' The midfielder told her, a forced yet genuine small smile making a way onto her face.

''Don't let this hurt you. You are literally one of the best players I have played against- your team is amazing. Use this, like in 2019.'' Y/N advised her, not particularly caring if the opposing player would take it or not.

''We will. I hope we can play many more finals. You make me- you make us grow.'' Alexia stuttered.

Y/N nodded. ''I hope so too. It's been fascinating to see the growth you guys have made these last years.''

The stadium now bore witness to a quieter exchange between the two captains. Almost every camera lens and watchful eye fixated on them.

As Y/N and Alexia exchanged words of mutual respect, their moment of shared understanding was abruptly disrupted by the Barcelona coach.

''Congratulations on the win, Y/N.'' He acknowledged briskly, his gaze quickly turning toward Alexia. His extended hand to her seemed more like a formality, but Y/N accepted it.

Almost forcibly, he placed a hand on Alexia's shoulder, a non-verbal cue that spoke volumes. ''Come on.'' He declared, his tone leaving little room for negotiation and they were off to wherever he needed her to be.

Alexia casted an immediate glance back at Y/N, a mix of emotions played across her face- gratitude for the moment, and frustration at its abrupt end. She hadn't responded to her words yet.

As the Spaniard was led away, Y/N's eyes lingered on the departing figure, a tinge of melancholy in her gaze.

The brief encounter had sparked a momentary connection- a bridge attempting to break through the perceived rivalry and show praise for a strong opponent. However, Jonatan's swift intervention acted like a pair of scissors, cutting through the threads that held that connection.

In Y/N's mind, Alexia had seemed appreciative of the opportunity to have a genuine conversation. She figured there must have been a good reason for her to have been pulled away like that, especially by the head coach.

The Barcelona captain had reacted with a hint of irritation when her coach suggested to the Lyon player to remove her arm from Alexia's shoulder. She tried asking Jonatan why he had coaxed her away, but she didn't receive a proper answer.

The whole thing had left a bitter taste in her mouth. The potential for a more extended, sincere exchange was cut short, leaving Alexia with lingering frustration. There was a desire to understand Y/N beyond the competition, but it was cut short.

She hoped her last glance had worked as a silent acknowledgment of what could have been.

[yandere-sins]

A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."

I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!

Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Click

You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days. 

"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.

"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.

"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."

"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice. 

"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle. 

For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.

"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words. 

In a way, he wasn't that different from you.

"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."

He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all. 

"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"

"You could have told me."

"And you would have dealt with her how?"

A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."

You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind. 

"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.

"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."

"Who'd want that, you sicko."

Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.

"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it. 

"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.

"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."

"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."

Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."

"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears. 

Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it. 

You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.

The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.

You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity? 

"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"

You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.

But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world. 

Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.

That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though. 

"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!" 

His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason. 

"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.

"Why you what?"

"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."

Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.

Click

"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."

Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"

He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal. 

"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"

Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."

He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.

"It drives me insane."

His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."

His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.

"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."

You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted. 

But why would you?

The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here. 

"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."

"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."

At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."

"No, I don't like it."

Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."

"Can I go back to my room now?"

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"

Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"

"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."

"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."

"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy. 

"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."

He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."

"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ size kink with inumaki 𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 26: so mean and rough!!!

✿ inumaki toge x reader

✿ warnings: reader bullies toge, creep toge, knife usage, knife play, non con to dub con to ???, dark content, p in v, creampie, inumaki uses his cursed speech to get consent so noncon!!!

Inunaki had an eye on you for a little whine. Always lurking behind something just to see your figure. He was star-struck by you. The main reason he fell in love instantly was your beautiful body.

You were bigger than him. He never thought it would turn him so much, but here you were. And it wasn't just your high even though you were good 20 cm taller than him. He also loved the plush of your stomach. Every time, you would wear a tighter dress, he could see the fabric stretch around your belly. And he's not even talking about your boobs.

"Did you follow me again, creep?" you spit into his face, putting both of your hands next to his head. He knows he should feel scared, but he's so turned on right now, he wants to smirk. He wants to laugh that he finally got this close to you.

"What? Can't you speak?" you heard the rumors about the mute kid who spoke only to get other people to do what he wanted, but you never paid attention to it. After all, he's just a creep who wouldn't stop following you everywhere. At this point, you can't even cross the street without him going in the opposite direction.

"Oh, fuck you. I don't have time to deal with people like you-" You freeze when a knife blade is pressed against your stomach. Your eyes go wide, and before you can say anything, he mutters, "Shut up."

Your mouth locks shut, and as much as you try to speak, no words leave your mouth. You look around for help, but the whole corridor is empty except for the two of you. There's only one thing you can do, run to the door. You sprint away from him, trying to get away before he uses his knife on you.

"stop."

Your body freezes at the stop, and you turn away to see him walking right up to you.

"Lay down."

"I gonna have my way with you now." he smiles down at you, caressing your cheek with the knife blade. He doesn't waste any time taking your boobs in your hands. They feel even bigger and firmer in his hands. He thought you were at least a DD cup, but you might be even bigger. A blade pierces through your shirt, ripping it to shreds. You want to scream at him, but it's for no use.

"Come on, I know you like it," he says and hot feelings spread around your whole body. As much as you were disgusted by him, suddenly his touch feels good. And when you look up at him, he's not that ugly you thought he was.

He sits on your stomach, looking at your boobs as if it was the prettiest art in the whole world. He doesn't even know if he should touch such art. It's great that you aren't wearing a bra so that he has easy access, but he wants to take off your bra next time so he can watch them fall and so that he knows how to unclip the bra.

His whole body feels so small compared to yours. He feels like a kitten that sits on your stomach. inumaki can't help but lay down on your body, kissing your neck. He reaches for your mouth so he can slide his tongue inside of it. It's messy and overall disgusting, and you're sure, he's never done this before… but you feel good. It's probably before that spell he cast on you, but you're not complaining.

He finally gets to your panties, examining how he should cut them. It would be such a waste to cut something as precious as this. After some thinking, he pulls them down your legs, smiling hard when he notices your juices coating them.

He wants to eat you out so badly, he thinks to himself. But his cock screams for attention. He spends so much time with his cock in his fist to waste any more time.

He pulls out his cock, and you moan from the size of it. He's a bit bigger than the others, it's true, and he loves the reaction he got from you.

His fingers swipe through your juices, collecting your juices in his hands. He covers his cock in your juices before slamming inside of you without any warning. You yelp, your fingers digging into his back. He's mean, and he doesn't give you any time to adjust to his length.

His thrusts show that he's pretty inexperienced, maybe even a virgin. That's probably true because nobody wants to get close to him, let alone fuck him. But god, he feels so fucking good. You can't believe you got so wet just for him, even though it's probably him who did something to your body that made you this wet. he abuses your pussy in the best way imaginable, fucking his cock through your hole so godly.

Louder moans espace your mouth when he finally hits your sweet spot. He chuckles, knowing that he finally found it. He focuses on your g spot, hips stuttering right into it. You want to show him how to use his big cock to make you feel even better, but right now, this is enough for you. Slowly but surely, he's bringing you to your orgasm.

You can feel that he's close too. He can't focus on anything else other than your pussy, his cock getting lost inside of you. His hips are unorganized and messy, but it's more than enough to make you cum. Your whole vision goes white as you cum around his cock, shaking under his body.

The unbelievable tightness of your cunt brings him right over the edge too, and he cums inside of you, much to your scream. Finally, now you realize what you let him do. he watches as his cum spills out of your pussy with a satisfied smirk.

"You're the worst," you tell him, still lying on the ground while he dresses.

"I might be, but you can't help but cum just from seeing me," he says, your whole body tensing again as you cum. You can't believe what just happened, how is he able to do that?

"I'm gonna forgive you for your attitude. after all, you love me."

he doesn't seem so bad after all.

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii @raeeesblog @satorustar @balenciagarette @erp1007

[beybaldes]

And somehow I know that you and I would've found each other

roy kent x gn!reader

word count : 8.7k

masterlist

summary : you and roy always end up finding your way back to each-other

content warning : taylor popped the fuck off with the speak now vault tracks especially timeless (another timeless fic coming out soon!!!!), slow burn that takes place over 36 years - dermatologists hate me! Roy’s sister is dubbed Molly yet again, I steal britanny brett for plot because I’m obsessed with @onceuponaoneshotfanfic and superstar (check it out now if you still haven’t, and if you have already, then reread it!!!!!!)

It's 1991 and youre not old enough to understand why your neighbour, and best friends older brother Roy, has to move away. You're only 4 years old, and so is Molly, and Roy's only 9 - so you're not sure why he's going away, where he's going, or if he's ever going to come back.

All you do know is that you and Molly's little arms are wrapped tightly around each other and you feel like it's never going to be enough to fill the hole of Roy's absence.

It's a cool September morning and Roy knows that December 19th - the day he gets to come back home for Christmas - is exactly 107 days away, but not even the last dregs of summers warmth can make this moment something he's going to look back fondly on.

He's got blankie folded perfectly at the bottom of his backpack and your favourite teddy bear wrapped up in it. Even though he wouldn't discover it until he'd arrived at Sunderland, you knew it was there and that Roy would look after it, and it made everything feel just a little bit better.

When Roy's Grandad announces that it's time to go, he gives you and Molly one last hug, pressing a kiss to both of your heads and promising to write and call whenever he can. You and Molly chase the car until the end of the street, where it turns a corner and Molly's mum calls you back to the house; you linger long enough to watch Roy turn from one of your best friends into a blurry figure in the back of a car.

Ms Kent gives you and Molly ice lolly's from the freezer and puts on 'Cinderella' while you eat them. She then sits through 'Sleeping Beauty,’ ‘The Little Mermaid', and 'Beauty and the Beast' with the two of you until your tears have long since stopped and you've fallen asleep in each others arms.

The following morning, Ms Kent nearly has a heart attack when she doesn't find you in Molly's bed, but her worry is soon ended when she realises the door to Roy's room is half opened and you're quietly curled up in tear stained sheets. Slowly, she wakes you up, and when fresh tears spring to your eyes she's quick to pull you into her arms. As she rocks you gently in her hold, she promises you that the prince always returns to the princess; even if it takes breaking a curse or waiting for 100 years.

They always find each-other in the end and live happily ever after.

And 107 days is nothing when you're 4 years old, it's the blink of an eye and sticky melted ice lolly on your hands, it's your first ever school uniform and glitter from Christmas crafts that you cant get off you no matter how many showers you take, and it goes by even quicker when Roy comes home 10 days sooner then expected.

You don't see him for the first 5 days. Roy locked himself away in his room and refused to come out or speak to anyone. But when the sixth day, and the weekend, finally rolls around, you decide to do something about it.

For a 9 year old, Roy sure had a lot to think about. He never got to say goodbye to his grandad, and he wasn't going to teach him how to ride a bike, or see him score his first professional goal, or get married, and he didn't know how to explain that when he went back to Sunderland come new year, he wasn't going away in the same capacity granddad had.

No 9 year old should've been thinking of all that.

Roy hadn't been expecting any visitors, not that he wanted any, but when you barged your way into his bedroom, he couldn't bring himself to send you away.

"Go away." Roy had growled, hidden beneath blankie and curled tightly into himself. "I want to be alone." Roy hadn't meant a lick of it and you hadn't believed any of it either.

"No, you don't." Though you had to wriggle your little self into his arms, you did it, and beamed proudly against his pyjama clad chest when he let you cuddle up to him. Roy had hugged you tightly, pulling you closer to him and wrapping blankie tightly around you both. "I missed you, Royo."

"You packed Dave in my bag." Roy stated, not asking why, or whether you wanted the teddy bear back, or telling you that he'd actually left it in Sunderland for when he went back in a few weeks time.

"You need him more then I do." Roy just nodded his head at your words, willing himself not to cry at the guilt he felt over leaving you and Molly behind and thinking about something other then his grandad. "And, if you have Dave, and Dave is mine, then you have to come and give him back to me. You have to come back from sundayland."

"Sunderland."

"What's that?" You tilted your head up to look at Roy, and found him already looking at you, half a smile on his lips.

"It's nothing."

Both you and Roy fell asleep in his room, under the safety of blankie, talking about 'sundayland' and everything good about his time there. It wasn't until tea time that his mum found the two of you and dragged you down stairs for dinner, teasing Roy once you'd gone home that you definitely had a little crush on him.

~*~

Roy's transfer to Chelsea once the season is over is announced just before your 16th birthday and you swear it's the best birthday present you've ever gotten. He's newly 21 and he's got this shaggy mullet thing going on that really shouldn't be working for him, but it is. You can't keep your eyes off of him, and Roy pretends not to notice for what he tells himself is your sake. He knows it isn't.

When his car pulls up in the drive for the first time since the weekend he came down for Mollys birthday, you and Molly run out of the house hand in hand to greet him, crying his name. He lets the two of you crash into him and wrap your arms tightly around him, almost squeezing him to death when he finds himself sandwiched between the two of you.

Roy's barely been on home soil for 10 seconds when Molly pulls away from the hug to look up at her big brother with the best puppy dog eyes she can muster up at 16. "Will you buy us drinks to take to leavers?”

"Fuck off, buy your own." You don't unwrap your arms from around Roy while they bicker, quite enjoying the familiarity of the scene before you. It was almost too long ago to fathom the last time Roy had been home long enough to start a fight with Molly, and though you never thought you'd say it, it was really nice to see.

"Incase you lost some brain cells this season, you have to be 18 to buy alcohol, fuckhead." Roy just stared blankly at Molly, and ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm as you stayed curled in his side, thinking about how similar Roy and Molly really are when it comes down to it. "So, I need you to buy it for us."

"Ask mum to buy it for you."

Molly immediately scoffs, throwing her hands in the air and muttering under her breath that she was genuinely concerned that Roy had lost some brain cells from all the headers he'd done this season. "Don't you think I tried that, dumbass? Mum said no to both of us."

Roy's gaze turned to meet yours, surprised to find you already looking at him. "Please Royo, everyone else will be drinking at leavers." Roy could never say no to you, and he was convinced both you and Molly knew that and had concocted this scheme to get him to buy it for you. He didn't mind saying yes, at least not this time, at least not when it was you asking.

Molly ran back into the house with an excited cry, promising to return with all the money she'd owe Roy for the drinks plus some as a charitable donation for his kindness.

For the first time in almost a year, you and Roy where completely alone together. He spared a moment to look at you, really look at you; notice how your hair had gotten longer and that your sense of style had completely changed, that the early summer sun was already tanning your skin and that you still had your arms around him. Roy only tightened his grip on you, dragging you into and around the house with him until you made it to the living room.

His mum had repainted since he'd last been down to visit from Sunderland and there were new photos on the wall behind the settee; mainly of you and Molly on your last day of school and one of Roy at his last match playing for Sunderland.

"You look like a proper footballer now, Royo." Despite every other seat in the living room being free, you took purchase on the arm of the chair right beside Roy and pray no one thinks it's a sign of the bubbling feelings you have for him. You may only be 16 but you're sure you've been in love with Roy for the better part of your life. It's one thing for everyone to tease you about you and Roy having little crushes on each other as kids, it's a whole other thing for people to tease you for having a crush on him when you actually did.

Roy scoffed, taking a long swig from the beer he'd grabbed from the kitchen when he first got to the house, swallowing down his smile. "But not enough for you to stop calling me 'Royo,' apparently."

"You could be the most famous footballer on the planet and I'd still call you Royo." You reached up for his hair and ruffled it, laughing at the way he pulled away from your touch and went to flatten his hair back out almost immediately. "But I mean it, you look like the kind of footballer kids have posters of up on their walls, that they want to be when they grow up."

And you're entirely right. Somewhere up in Manchester, a 6 year old Jamie Tartt is pinning a poster of your Roy up on his wall and promising himself, and his dad, that all of his time and money spent on football practice will one day pay off  - that he's going to be one of the greats, just like Roy Kent.

"You'll always be my Royo, Roy. Even when you're super famous and don't remember me anymore." Your hand had somehow found it's way back into Roy's hair and he couldn't bring himself to move away from your touch. Since his sudden rise to fame, in which it seemed like he'd become an overnight sensation, he couldn't remember when he was last touched so gently. Touching only to touch, not because they wanted something from him or his name.

Roy couldn't keep in the smile that pulled at his lips. It faltered slightly at the fact he couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled, let alone genuinely, but it quickly returned and warmed his face when he meet your eyes. "And how could I ever forget the likes of you, yeah?"

Somewhere between shared words and glances, his hand had found yours and the two of you couldn't tear your eyes away from the other. "Dinners ready, guys." Molly was well known for her perfect timing, and despite some initial upset at the moment being taken from you, you knew it was for the better. Roy was Molly's brother, your best friends brother, who had 5 years on you yet.  Though you knew it was unlikely anything would ever happen between the two of you, moments like this made you think there was a small possibility something one day would. The thought wasn't one worth seriously entertaining. "Did I... interrupt something?"

"What? No way." You and Molly ran from the room hand in hand, giggles bubbling past your lips and exchanged, in hushed whispers, the conversation that Molly had just walked in on.

It was like Roy had never left as he followed the two of you into the dining room. He took his seat across the table from you like he always did and knocked his foot against yours every time he wanted your attention. Dinner was good and before he knew it you were half on top of him on the sofa, sneaking bites from his plate of dessert as everyone else partook in the worlds most heated game of Pictionary.

He gave a sharp nudge to your ribs when you stole the last bite but quickly soothed it over with the gentle drumming of his fingers against your skin. The pair of you talked in hushed tones for the rest of the evening about his transfer to Chelsea and everything he was looking forward to now that he was back in London, as well as all your plans for your super long summer before you started college in September.

It was only when Roy's mum turned to ask if you were going home or staying over that anyone had noticed the two of you cuddled up in the armchair in the corner of the room, both fast asleep. She didn't dare wake you, thankful to see her son at peace for the first time in what felt like years, instead placing a blanket over the two of you and ushering Molly up to bed despite her insistence that you come with her.

One day, she thought, the two of you would finally see yourselves in other people, realise that if love looks like that then the two of you must be in it, and with any luck she'd still be alive to see it. She knew Roy was stubborn enough to keep that from happening. Maybe he would't be this time; at least, not when it came to you.

~*~

When the rumours of Roy's relationship with Britanny Brett are confirmed by a quote she gives in an interview, he finds himself typing out an apology to you. He stares at his phone for 3 hours and the most he can type out is 'I didn't want you to find out like this, I'm sorry,' but he still doesn't send it. Roy's not entirely sure what he's apologising for.

It's the night before his 27th birthday and he's debating whether or not he should show up to the birthday dinner his mum has planned for him tomorrow. You'll be there. He knows it. But only because he knows that Molly dragged you back from uni with her just for the occasion. And for some reason that he can't quite place, or just doesn't want to yet, he feels bad about having to see your face and hear you talk about his girlfriend.

Although Brittany Brett is smoking hot, and they have really great sex, he's not sure he wants to take her home to meet his family. To meet you. Sure, she's a great footballers girlfriend, but he's a little worried about what the people who know him as just Roy will think of her.

When she appears on the other side of his door the morning of his 27th birthday, the first thing he says to her is 'you can't come to my birthday party' and he feels like he's 8 years old again and making mortal enemies in the playground at school. She doesn't acknowledge his comment, instead inviting herself in and making herself at home in Roy's living room, and he's never been more thankful for her 'too good for everyone' demeanour.

He drops her off at her house on the way over to his mums house later that evening. Roy decides he hates the way her perfume lingers in his car and has buried itself under his skin. He wants nothing more then for it to get away from him but there's still 20 minutes left of the drive and he knows the second you hear the car pull up you'll come running out the door and he won't have anytime to get the smell off of him.

When he pulls up on the doorstep of his childhood home 20 minutes later, only Molly comes running from the house to greet him. For a minute he thinks you haven't shown up to celebrate his birthday with him and he feels his heart break in two. He tells himself he doesn't know why. However, when he walks into the house and heads straight to the kitchen in search of a beer to calm his nerves, and help him forget about you, he finds you there, helping his mum with making his favourite dinner and a wide smile on your face.

You notice him lingering, shocked, in the doorway and pull him into your arms. There's less strength to your hold then he's used to but he feels grateful that you even want him in your arms after everything he's done. Now Roy really isn't sure why he's talking like that; like you've been hard done by from his relationship with Brittany Brett. To a degree he feels like he's cheated on you, but he can't have done because the two of you were never together. However, he doesn't let the thought linger, instead pulling you tighter against him and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Of course you'd be here, of course you would, but he finds himself holding onto you for a little longer then he probably should just to make sure you're really here and really staying.

Dinner is nice. It's a piece of simplicity he's missed every night since he was 9 years old and heading away to Sunderland for the first time. It's not often nowadays that he gets to eat dinner at a dining table surrounded by people he loves and who love him, so he relishes in every moment of it. He lets his hand brush against yours when he asks for the salt and he nudges your foot with his every-time he wants your attention. Being in this room, in this seat, with you, is like being 8 years old again and everything bad is yet to happen to him. Roy realises he likes the feeling of it more then he ever remembers.

No one brings up Brittany Brett, the way Roy smelt like her when you hugged him, the apology he never sent, or the way you cried in Molly and Ms Kent's arms when you found out he had a girlfriend. Dinner is peaceful and you and Roy share a slice of birthday cake on his Grandad's armchair, then fall asleep together there like he doesn't have a girlfriend and you don't have a broken heart.

His mum feels like she's got two children in her house and she wishes it would stay like this forever, as long as that meant Roy couldn't hurt your heart more then he already had. But Roy is stubborn, and she knows that. When she comes downstairs in the morning it's just you on the armchair with Roy's jacket over your shoulders like a blanket. You're hugging the material tightly against you as if it could ever replace Roy's presence, and even though you're still asleep, both of you know it won't.

When Roy sneaks out at 4am, the first thing he does is drive to Brittany Brett's house and breaks up with her. After all, there's no point being with someone when you know for a fact that you're in love with someone else.

~*~

Molly's dating this guy who doesn't let her speak to you, or Roy, or her own mum and you're scared for her life. In the two times you've managed to get a hold of her, you begged and pleaded with her to leave him. She's only 25 and so are you, you could run away together and start it all over and no one would know any different. Both times she said she wanted to be with him, that she loved him. All you want is your best friend back and for her to be safe, and rather selfishly, because you need her more then you've ever needed anyone.

Despite trying all day, you can't reach her, or her boyfriend, and you don't know who else to call. Ms Kent was the only real parental figure you'd had growing up, but it was pushing midnight and you didn't want to wake her up for the sake of your own comfort. Roy's number is below hers on your favourite contacts and you don't hesitate to ring it. You know he's got a match this weekend and practice tomorrow but you need someone and you have no one else to keep you from your own mind.

Roy's in some club in north London when his phone rings and his screen illuminates with your name and a picture of the two of you from last Christmas. It's one of the newcomers 21st birthday and he remembers being 21 and moving to Chelsea, moving back home, like it was yesterday. He's got 10 years on the kid who's just starting his career while he's going on aging out of it. It's almost enough to make him feel old.

He's quick to answer the phone, practically running out of the club to make sure he can hear you and he's already walking back to his car when he hears the suppressed sniffle to your voice. Roy can't see 100% past 9pm anymore so he doesn't drink when he goes out with the team, he knows it'll only make it worse, and for the first time ever, it's actually come in use.

It takes him 37 minutes exactly to drive from the club to your childhood home that's pressed brick by brick against his, and that's only because he made a pit stop to his own house on the way over. Every time he comes back here lately, it feels like some cruel trick of fate, that he can't have you but can have his entire life shaped by you.

He's banging his fist loudly against the door before he can take into consideration that your neighbours, one of which is his own mother, are likely asleep and wouldn't take too kindly to being woken up at this hour. When you open the door to a friendly face, you all but collapse into Roy's arms, already sobbing and heaving and trying to get the words out but not being able to do so. He scoops you up into his arms, years of intense football training allowing him to do it without second though, and carries you to your bedroom.

He placed you against the pillows and then kicks off his shoes, he definitely scuffed them up in the process but Roy couldn't seem to find the time to mind. Before you've managed to get a single word out Roy's stripped off the bulk of his suit, leaving him in just a shirt, boxers and socks. The image is kind of funny and if you weren't so devastated, you were sure you'd be laughing.

"What's wrong?" When Roy's hands gently wrap around your wrists to try and pull them away from your face and get a glance at you, you just start crying harder. "C'mon sweetheart, talk to me."

When he's met with more silence he pulls out his surprise weapon, a raggedy, old teddy bear, with matted fur that smells surprisingly like Roy. "Would it be easier to talk to Dave?" Finally your hands move away from your face to get a look at the teddy bear, not believing it's right in front of you when you know you haven't seen it since you were five yours old. It took a couple of minutes, lots of sniffling, and really willing yourself to say it, but eventually you did. Roy's arms around your and the soft touch of Dave's fur against your skin settling your nerves.

"My dad died this morning." Roy didn't hesitate to pull you into his lap, settling himself against your pillows as he brought you closer to him. "And I have no one to tell. Molly's boyfriend won't let her speak to me anymore, and I didn't want to burden your mum with it, and I just... I didn't know who to call or talk to and I know you were probably busy-"

"Hey, hey, don't. You did the right thing calling me. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah?" Both of Roy's hands are cradling your face, forcing you to look at him and really listen to what he wants to say. "I'm here, okay? I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

You shuffle in his lap, turning enough that you can bury your head in the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Roy's warm and surprisingly comfy, but you reckon that's more so because the skin of his thighs are pressing into the skin of yours and you're sure it's the closest you've ever been to him. You try not to think about how you wouldn't mind being this close to him more often.

The rest of the night is spent with you in Roy's arms, his hand running up and down your back, his other hand cradling your face and wiping away each tear that spills over. He lets you ramble and ramble about everything on your mind with no regard for the fact he's got practice at 8am tomorrow. Even when you fall asleep in his arms, tears staining his brand new shirt, practice is the furthest thing from his mind, so much so that he doesn't even remember sending  Di Matteo the text saying he wasn't well and wouldn't be able to make practice in the morning.

Roy wakes up a long time before you, and he finds he has to practically drag himself away from you and the bed. When his eyes blink open he sees the sight he's spent the better part of his life waiting to see: you're in his arms, fast asleep, looking entirely peaceful and for a minute he can pretend that this is his life. While the haze of sleep has yet to fade, he can act like he wakes up to you every morning, that you love him like he loves you, and that, if he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and flashed him that bright beautiful smile of yours.

If he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and you would greet him with a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his face in return and not caring if it landed against his lips, cheek, or jaw, because you know you'll be able to kiss the other places whenever you like.

Roy pulls himself out of bed and drags his feet all the way to your kitchen where he cooks the two of you breakfast. Nothing about it is rushed - he knows that he has nowhere to be but here, with you. He knows you've woken up when he can hear the gentle padding of your feet against your bedroom floor. Roy hears you walk down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where you then cross the room to him, and wrap your arms around his waist. Dave is clutched in on of your hands and your head is pressed against the dimples of his shoulder blades, your other hand fiddling with the hem of the front of his T-shirt, so casually that any passer by would think this was routine. And even though it isn't, Roy takes the risk of placing his hand atop your own and lacing his fingers through yours. When he can feel you smile into his back, he thinks maybe he should've kissed you in the bedroom, that maybe you'd have liked it just as much as he would've.

~*~

It's another year after your dad died before Molly finds out. She doesn't show up to Christmas, or Easter, but she comes by one late spring afternoon when Ms Kent had invited you and Roy over for picky bits in the garden, with a bin bag full of her belongings and a black eye. If your hand wasn't holding Roy's so tightly you were sure he would've been right out of the door, driving off to find the prick and give him an even worse beating then he'd given his sister.

You pull Roy with you when you cross the garden to engulf Molly in a hug, both of you breaking down at the contact and apologies tumbling from both of your lips. Molly apologises for not being there when your dad died, and not attending the funeral, you force her to take back her apology while also shoving your own down her throat, apologising for not finding her, for not being there. The two of you only cry harder when Roy pulls the two of you, still hugging, into his embrace. It's warm and his hands are big and it makes you feel like you're a child again, and you suppose that in some ways you still are.

It takes almost half an hour for the two of you to calm down enough for any coherent words to get out, and the first ones that do is that Molly's pregnant and she needs somewhere to stay. Immediately you ask her to move in with you. It's perfect really, you're next door to her mum and you've got a room for her and for the baby (when it comes) now that your dads passed. Roy likes the idea even more; something about his three, soon to be four, favourite people being in one place taking his fancy.

The eight months between Molly showing back up and beautiful baby Phoebe being born seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. The soft, warm, yellow paint of phoebes nursery smears your memories of those months; everything about it is caked in the glow of the summer you have when you're 5 years old and have no care in the world.

You and Molly are best friends again and it's like you never missed two years of each others lives; everything just falls right back into place. The two of you do everything together and you wouldn't have it any other way, even when everything includes being in the room with her and Ms Kent when she's giving birth.

Roy, unluckily, is the only one not invited into the room, and he spends almost 6 hours pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth in the waiting room, waiting for some kind of an update on his sister and his niece. It's you that comes to give it to him. You're in blue scrubs that you pull off further with every step you take into the waiting room, running right into Roy's arms with the widest smile he's ever seen cross your face.

"She's beautiful, Roy. She's so beautiful." He just nods his head and allows you to take his hand and pull him in the direction of the room Molly and his mum are in. "I love her so much already and she's only been here for 5 minutes."

Roy understood what you meant as soon as he walked into the room. Molly was absolutely glowing, and cradling this tiny, tiny baby in her arms like she was terrified any movement at all might hurt her - she didn't even look like she was breathing less it hurt the baby.

"Do you want to hold her?" You whispered, nudging his foot with yours to gain his attention. "You won't break her, promise." You didn't give Roy the opportunity to answer, instead eagerly taking the baby off of Molly and walking over to Roy. His mum all but pushed him into one of the chairs they had in the room and lectured him on how to hold the baby correctly. Slowly, you lowered her into his arms, making sure he had a comfortable and safe grip on her before you removed your arms from the little Phoebe completely. "Isn't she amazing?"

Roy can already picture it and it's breaking his heart. You, and him, and a little baby wrapped in a blanket with eyes that don't yet know how to open. But, in the daydream he doesn't tell anyone about, you're holding the baby and his arms are around you, whispering how much he loves you into your ear and promising to do everything for that baby. Your baby. He doesn't yet know if a day like that is ever going to come; he'd have to get over himself first, and he doesn't see that happening anytime soon. For you, however, he just might try.

"Yeah, yeah she is."

Molly and little baby Phoebe have to stay in the hospital overnight, but can be discharged in the morning, and Molly doesn't let any of you stay with her. In fact, she demands the three of you head home and come back tomorrow, well rested to drive her and newborn Phoebe home.

The three of you pick up some chinese takeout on your way home and eat it around Ms Kent's dinner table. Molly's absence is so heavily felt that part of you feels thrust back in time to a year ago, when you didn't have any contact with her and didn't know if she was even alive, let alone okay. It shakes you to your core and you leave your dinner half eaten as you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to breathe. When you return to the table, you find that dinner has been cleared away, but Ms Kent is holding out a spoon for you, pointing you in the direction of the living room.

Roy's sat in his grandads armchair with the biggest bowl of ice cream you've ever seen and he opens up his arms to you when he feels you staring at him from the doorway. You didn't hesitate to sit with him, squished up in the seat that fit the both of you slightly better when you were kids, with Roy's arm around your shoulders. When you didn't take a large helping of ice cream for yourself, he nudged the bowl in your direction.

"When Molly came home, I'd get in bed with her each night." You whispered, only loud enough that Roy would be able to hear you. It felt embarrassing, to try and explain why you felt Molly's absence for one night so vastly, but you knew that if anyone would get it, it would be Roy. "For the first month or so, she'd ask me to stay with her, so she knew she wasn't alone and she was safe. So I did. And then one night she was like 'I don't need you in bed with me anymore, I think I'm okay now,' and I didn't know what to do." You stuck your spoon inside the ice-cream, stirring it around the bowl but never bringing the build up of vanilla on the spoon to your lips. "I got in bed that night and I couldn't sleep at all, so I went and knocked on her door and she was still awake. Told me she couldn't sleep either, and I got right back into bed with her." Tears pricked at your eyes and your spoon fell against the bowl. "I don't know what to do without Molly, Royo, I don't want to have to do without her again."

Roy quickly moved the half eaten bowl of ice cream to the coffee table, pulling you into him and cradling your head against his shoulder. "Molly's not going anywhere, babe, she'll be home in the morning. Everything's going to be okay."

Neither of you brought up how he called you babe, and his mum didn't bring up how you fell asleep cuddled up in the armchair like you did when you were kids. But when Roy brought Phoebe and Molly home the following morning, and Molly and Ms Kent had taken Phoebe upstairs to get her settled into her new home, he pulled you in for a hug.

"Told you so." He whispered in your ear, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. Then Roy grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers with his and pulling you up the stairs to join Phoebe in her new room. Dave was in his other hand and he continued to stand by you as you placed it in the crib with her, knowing that she needed Dave more then you or Roy did now.

All of you couldn't wait to watch this little girl grow up surrounded by people who loved her so, so much.

~*~

Roy gets transferred to Richmond just before Phoebe's 4th birthday and you tease him that he has a penchant for getting the best kinds of birthday present. He asks why you remember so clearly that his transfer to Chelsea 15 years ago was just before your 16th birthday, and you answer honestly that it was the only thing you'd wanted for your birthday that year - for Roy to be closer to home. You immediately get to tease him again as a blush coats his cheeks.

On his first day at Richmond, he gets you, Molly and Phoebe seats in the family box, says that they'll always be there if you ever want to come and watch him play, and you reply that you always watch him play.

"I've been playing professionally for half my life. Sunderland, Chelsea, and now Richmond. I've never seen you even glimpse at a football match."

You scoff immediately and Roy's slightly taken aback, you almost look angry at what he's saying and he doesn't know why because he's right. Not that it matters to him, but you just don't like football that much; he doesn't blame you or anything, each to their own, but he wishes you'd like it for him. "I've seen every game you've ever played."

"Yeah, right."

"Yeah, right." You turned to Roy, putting down the bag filled with Phoebe's first ever school uniform inside now that you'd made it back home. "I'm serious. I've watched every match you've ever played in. All of your games with Sunderland and Chelsea, and I'll watch all your games now that you're at Richmond." You turn to Roy with a tense crease in your brow and he's wishing he never brought it up. "You're important to me Roy, of course I'd watch every time you play."

"What's sundayland, babe?" Phoebe had ran into the living room when she'd heard the door go, excited that you and Roy returned home. Molly and you had called each other babe since you were teenagers, and Phoebe had taken to calling you babe over your actual name. It didn't help that Roy had let it slip a few time too, only reassuring her that she was calling you by the correct thing.

"It's nothing, pheeb's." You scooped the little blonde into your arms, resting her against your jutted out hip and beginning to wander through the house. "Where your mum? You need to try on your uniform."

"Can I give you a fashion show?" She asked, leaning her head against your shoulder in a way that had Roy thinking about the two of you with a kid again. He'd have to ask you out first, and with each year that passed, the possibility of him actually doing that seemed to get slimmer and slimmer.

"Of course you can, Pheeb's. Go get dressed. Me and your uncle Roy will wait in the living room."

You stuck to your word, watching every single match that Roy played in. Sometimes at Nelson road, sometimes with Molly and Phoebe, sometimes in Ms Kent's living room - but you always watched him play.

The first time Molly let you take Phoebe to Nelson road was as your birthday present the same year Phoebe turned 6. You'd been pleading all year for Molly to let you bring Phoebe along to a home game, and she finally caved - on the condition you kept her ear defenders on all night and left if it got too much for her. Phoebe loved every minute of the match, screamed her little heart out just for the sake of joining in, even if she didn't know what people were saying; You were certain her cry of 'uncle Roy' every time she saw him with the ball was the loudest in the stadium.

When the match was over, a man with glasses found you in the stands, introduced himself as 'Higgins,' handed you two family lanyards with Kent plastered all over them, and asked you to follow him. You're barely in the changing rooms when Phoebe lets go of your hand, crying Roy's name and interrupting a speak from that new, American coach that Roy had complained about.

"Phoebe!" The blonde didn't wait up for you, running right at Roy and knowing he'd catch her when she flung herself the remaining foot into his arms. "What did I tell you?"

"I didn't know grandad fancied himself a cradle robber." You'd heard enough complaints to know the dig at Roy was from Jamie Tartt, the season loan from Manchester City. "Surely, someone like you isn't married to someone like Roy."

The twinge of disgust that slipped from the mans mouth when he said Roy's name had your blood boiling. "Why? Would you rather me with the likes of you instead?"

Jamie stood in dumbfounded silence as you turned back to Roy, your face entirely brightening, and his presence being totally ignored for the rest of your stay in the lock room. He wasn't used to that. He was trying to compliment you, say you were way out of Roy's league - maybe even ask for your number - but you didn't even spare him a second glance. In fact, now that your eyes were back on him, he wasn't entirely sure you were ever going to look away from Roy again. It made sense when he thought about it in bed later that night, even though he teased the fuck out of Roy and sometimes plainly treated him like shit, Roy Kent was one of the greats. Even Jamie Tartt knew that, and had known it since he was 6 years old - of course he'd managed to score someone like you.

Murmurs of Roy Kent having a secret spouse and daughter had filled Nelson Road before you'd even left the building.

It wasn't that Roy didn't want to talk about you. If he had the opportunity, he'd scream about you from rooftops, but being a footballer was a very public affair and he loved his privacy. Almost as much as he loved you.

The dog track didn't think they'd ever see your face again, not when Roy had growled at them after he'd guided you and Phoebe out of the changing room. Unfortunately for them, they would, under the worst possible circumstances.

You'd been on the edge of your seat the whole match. Roy's been benched for the first time in what you're sure is his entire career and doesn't come on until the 60th minute and when he does, you swear he's on fire. He's playing better then he'd ever played before, running faster then he's ever ran in the past few years, and he's slide tackling Jamie Tartt and getting the ball away from the goal. People are screaming his name and so are you.

And then he's not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up, the cheers have died down, and everyone's waiting with baited breath while it's determined if they've just seen the end of Roy Kent's 30 year long career with their own eyes.

And then Roy gets up, and for a fleeting moment you think that maybe everything's okay, that Roy's okay, and he's going to carry on playing.

And then he's walking from the pitch, limping, and your sprinting from your seat in the family box and running up to the owners box. You don't have to say a word because Rebecca calls a member of security over to you, and asks with a kind smile for him to guide you down to the changing rooms.

You linger outside the door for about 5 seconds before you push it open. If you were anyone else, you'd were certain he would've yelled at you to get out, even though he didn't mean it, just for the sake of his image. But you weren't anyone else, you were you.

"I'm fine." You hadn't even made it fully into the room and Roy was already trying to make his pain seem less bad then it was. "I'm fine. Go watch the rest of the match. You might have to drive us back to yours though."

"Roy." He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit beside him on the bench. You slowly wrap your arm around his shoulders and tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head down to rest against your shoulder. "Don't. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah? You're important to me, let me be here for you."

Roy kisses you and you instantly realise you'd have waited 33 more years for it, if that meant it would happen.

His lips are chapped, and his beard is slightly scratchy, and he's already breathless before he even leans into it but you don't mind. You find that his lips slant against yours perfectly and he slides you closer against him on the bench, using the hand he'd placed on your hip to give it a squeeze, eliciting an gasp from you. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth but he pulls away before it can escalate.

You hope to anything listening that he wants to kiss you again, because you're sure he's ruined the touch of everyone else's lips against your skin for you.

"I've been in love with you since I was 5 years old." Roy pressed his lips back to yours in a quick succession of kisses and you're sure that thats a good sign.

"Since you were 5 years old?" He asks, nudging his nose against yours, pressing his lips firmly to yours when they brush slightly as he speaks. "Fuck, did we waste a lot of time."

~*~

Roy's been the manager of Richmond for the last 4 months and you're thankful that there's no football on over Christmas. You get Roy practically all to yourself for three weeks and it's the best feeling ever.

Phoebes still in school until the 22nd, and you live together at Roy's house, so there's no chance Molly will walk in on the two of you or his mum will hear you through the walls - meaning 90% of his first week off work is spent having sex on every surface in the house, in every position imaginable.

The second week off is the main bulk of Christmas. You pick Phoebe up from school on the 22nd and she has a sleep over at your house. The 23rd is spent curled up on your couch, with Phoebe sandwiched between the two of you, watching Christmas movies all day and stuffing your faces with popcorn and hot chocolate. Phoebe spends the night again, and then the three of you drive down to Ms Kent's house at lunchtime on the 24th. Molly comes home from work around 6pm and the 5 of spend the rest of the evening in the living room, watching 'love actually' and 'the polar express,' until it's time for bed. Even though you and Roy have been together for nearly 3 years now, you sleep in Molly's bed with her and Phoebe, reminiscing on the christmas's of your childhood and giggling over them until you fall asleep.

When christmas morning finally comes, you and Molly are the last awake, Phoebe jumping all over the two of you and demanding you get downstairs as soon as possible to see what Father Christmas has left for her. You let Phoebe drag you down stairs even though you're barely awake and you crawl into Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, at the first opportunity. He's already got a coffee made for you, just the way you like it, and a warm hand that he slips up the back of your tshirt to scratch gently against your skin as you watch Phoebe begin to open her mountain of presents.

"How many of these are from you?" You whisper, feeling Roy smile against your temple as you sip on your coffee, slowly waking up in his arms.

"Enough. They're not all for Pheeb's anyway." Roy picks you up enough to adjust your position in his lap, making it more comfortable for the both of you to sit and talk and watch presents getting opened. "Some for my mum, some for Molly, some for you."

"You're too kind to me, baby." You lean up enough to press a kiss to Roy's lips, ignoring the loud screech Phoebe lets out at the display of affection. "I got some stuff for you under there too, handsome."

"I don't see you under that tree, Father Christmas clearly mustn't have got my list." Even though you're not looking directly at Roy you can feel the smirk that is pulling at his lips.

Before you could comment on what that could possibly mean Phoebe was calling your name, sticking her hand out with a tiny, paper-wrapped box in her palm. "This one's for you, it says it's from uncle Roy!"

"For me, huh? Lets have a look then, shall we Pheeb's?" Phoebe abandoned her half opened pile of gifts to stand beside you, leaning over the arm of the arm chair and over your shoulder to get a prime look at the gift as you opened it. "Thank you, baby."

Roy pinched your hip teasingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he intently watched you carefully unfold the wrapping paper. "Open it first, you might not like it. I kept the receipt so... just say the word and we'll get it changed."

"It's from you, Royo, I'm sure I'll love it." You punctuated your words with a kiss to his lips, not realising just how much your words would ring true until you'd fully unwrapped the box; finding a navy blue, velvet ring box and tears in Ms Kent's eyes. "Roy..."

"I spent 36 years of my life not knowing you felt the same way about me as I felt about you." Roy took the box gently from your hold and opened it, taking the dainty and elegant ring from it and holding it between the two of you. "And I don't plan to waste another moment of my life without you by my side."

"Yes."

"Oi, you're supposed to let me fucking ask you first." A laugh bubbled past your lips despite the tears building in your eyes. "Will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

"Yes." Your hands found Roy's face before his could place the ring on your finger, pulling him into a hot and forceful kiss, tilting his head back with how much you leaned into it, into him. "Yes. Yes. Yes, please."

"You owe me £1, Uncle Roy."

Tears are shed and the rest of the gifts are opened. Christmas dinner goes by without a hitch, and before you know it the days nearly over and you find yourself in Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, with one bowl of dessert between the two of you, like so many times before. Ms Kent is sat across from the two of you with her own bowl of dessert and she looks like she wants to say something about it. She doesn't, but only because she knows, and she knows that you and Roy know. This day was a long time coming and she's over the moon that it's come in her lifetime.

Roy's love for you was stronger then any will he had to remain stubborn, and after a life time of waiting, he'd finally found his way to you, and she was sure he would find his way to you in every lifetime; even if it took 100 years or breaking a curse. Like she'd told you on that cool September morning, the prince always comes back, and they always live happily ever after. And she was sure the two of you were going to as well.

an : if you made this this far I love you!!! I hope you enjoyed another super long Roy fic, feel free to leave some feedback or what your favourite part of the story was, or even a request from my summer sleepover prompts!! Mwah <333

[lis-likes-fics]

Let Me Show You the Light

Pairings: Jonathan Crane x Reader Word Count: 10k words (i don't know either) Kink: Mirror Sex Warnings: NSFW, noncon (honestly, this kinda ended being dub at the end? dunno how that happened... warning still applies), dark content loss of virginity, humiliation, multiple orgasms, creampie, dumbification, depictions of horror, use of fear toxin, insanity, mention of murder/death... A/N: Okay, I enjoyed writing this way too much. This was like...filthy. But you know what, we ball. Enjoy, I wrote this in two days! Also A/N: PS, I made a few changes to the taglist, so please send me a message or go to the taglist doc to make any necessary changes (or just to add yourself!) Link in my bio and at the bottom of this post!

Someone's watching you.

You can feel the heat on the back of your head. It's a warmth that gathers there and makes you look over your shoulder in search of that phantom you could never seem to catch.

And it's not just out in the open either. It's a constant hair-stands-on-end. It's on your way to work, to the coffee shop, to the store, back home. It's in your kitchen, in your living room, in your bedroom, in your bathroom.

You feel…unclean. Everything you do in the comfort and privacy of your own home is being watched by this strange ghost haunting your every move. And you stop as you look behind yourself again because you feel it.

Someone's watching you.

You startle as the crowd of the Gotham city streets scurries around you and eventually delivers you a victim to run into. "I'm so sorry!" you say quickly as you are shoved back slightly, steadying yourself as you reach bend down to pick up the briefcase that had been knocked from the man's hand.

"It's quite alright. It seems I wasn't paying attention," he offers, bending down to pick it up instead.

Your hands touch as you both grab the handle at the same time. You quickly pull it away. You look up for the first time at the person you'd run into and recognize him almost immediately. You've never really met him in person, but you've learned a lot about him through the happenings at the precinct.

"Dr. Crane," you say as you pick up the suitcase and straighten your posture. You quickly hand it over to him.

"That's me," he says, nodding. He looks over you for just a split second, as if he's admiring you as he takes you. There's something cold about his gaze that makes you want to shudder, but you refrain. "May I ask your name?"

You give it, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He holds his hand out and you hesitantly take it. He shakes it, holding your hand a moment too long and making your skin crawl as he tilts his chin to the side. "Very nice to meet you," he smiles. "May I ask where you're headed? I would love to walk with you if you wouldn't mind."

You clear your throat, "Actually, I think we were headed opposite ways. I'm headed to the precinct for work."

"Ah. A secretary? Assistant?" he wonders.

You shake your head, fighting the urge to check the time. You really shouldn't be seen talking to someone like Jonathan Crane, not with the rumors and bad dealings floating about his name. This city was bent enough, you couldn't be lost to something like this. But showing disrespect to a potential threat wouldn't be a grand idea either…

"Um, no," you smile tightly. "I'm a crime analyst."

His brows raise as he nods, though the new information doesn't reach his eyes. "Well, then. Until we meet again. Safe travels."

You nod shortly and he brushes past you on his way. You look over your shoulder as he disappears into the crowd.

As you turn and begin your walk again, the feeling sticks to your skin like a cold sweat on a winter's day. Someone's watching you.

~

You meet Jonathan Crane for the second time at a bookshop.

With the lingering feeling looming over you like a shadow, things are beginning to feel like they're getting out of hand. You search the aisles slowly, almost absently, as your finger grazes the spines of different published authors in the nonfiction section. You pick a book from its place on the shelf and flinch when you turn and find someone standing behind you.

You clutch your hand to your chest as you steady your beating heart. "You scared me," you chuckle nervously.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

You look up and nearly freeze at the sight of a smiling Jonathan Crane standing before you once more, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he looks at you almost apologetically.

You swallow thickly, taking a tiny step back. "Dr. Crane."

He seems to recognize you then as he nods gently. "We meet again." You hum. "What brings you to this side of the bookshop? I didn't take you for a nonfiction kind of girl."

You tilt your head. "No? What did you take me for?"

He shrugs, "Paranormal? A little bit of romance here and there?"

You maintain your tight smile, shifting between your feet as you nod gently. He's not right, but he's not wrong. However, the most unsettling thing about it isn't even that he's a little right… it is the fact that you've met this one time and it was a conversation that lasted less than a minute. Either he took one hell of a guess or there was something going on there that wouldn't be very pleasant for you. Given the heat burning on your skin from your constant paranoid surveillance, you'd guess the latter.

"Good guess," is all you say.

He glances down at the book tucked underneath your arm and hums. "What's that you've got?"

You look down at it and take it into your hands again. You look over the cover and hand it over. He takes it, and his fingers brush over yours. You shudder uncomfortably, pulling your hand away and hoping he doesn't notice the way you rub your hand on your side. He does, but you don't know that as he spends too much time reading the title.

"The Art of Intuition," he reads. "Sounds like an interesting read."

You nod, "I'm hoping. It's for…work, so…"

He furrows his brows, "You said you worked as an intelligence analyst?"

You nod again, more firmly this time as you take the book back. "Yes… Well, intuition is important for everything, isn't it?"

He nods along and hums. "That, it is."

You clear your throat, "What about you? What are you reading?"

He looks at his own book, as though he'd just realized it was there. He passes it on to you as you had done.

The Power of Fear and How to Conquer It

You stare at the title a moment longer than you should, feeling clammy and warm and very unsafe as you hand the book back. "Sounds like it'll keep you busy."

He nods. "It will."

The way he says it washes you in a cold feeling. The hairs along your arms stand on end and you nearly shudder. You should leave.

You smile as kindly as you can manage, taking a step away from him and nodding. "I should probably get going."

You turn to leave. He grabs your arm. Though he wasn't harsh, you still turn quickly with an almost startled look to you as you wonder what he'll do. You're safe, right? In the middle of this store? You look around you, but there is nothing around but books that would become the readers to the story unfolding before them.

"Wait," he laughs gently.

You speak almost immediately, the words blurting out of your mouth. "Please let go of me."

He does, much to your relief, as he fixes his glasses. "Forgive me." You hum and look away from his face. "I've actually been thinking about you."

You don't like the way it sounds when he says it. It gives a foreboding feeling that just makes you squirm. "I wanted to say this before but I didn't want to be…strange."

Too late.

"You told me your name. I couldn't help but recognize it." Oh, no. "Your father is Boucher, isn't he?"

How did he know that?

"How do you know that?" you ask, taking another step back. "I changed my last name so no one would know that."

"Well," he begins, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "That shows up on file, and he's one of my patients, so I've seen your name in said files before. Both of them."

You clasp your hands together in front of you as you bow your head, not looking up at him and hating the way he feels so intimidating as he watches you. "Yes," you clear your throat. He notices the way your voice drops, the disdain almost betrayed in your tone. "My father is Boucher. My birth name is Boucher."

He smiles. "Interesting."

You look up, snappy. "Why?"

"I work in psychology. It's my job to find everything interesting," he says lightly, noticing your defense and seeming…amused by it.

You don't like it.

"Yeah, well, that bastard killed my mother, and I am no longer associated with him. So, if you don't mind, I'm not Boucher and I would like to be going now. Thank you." You turn to leave, and he grabs your arm again. You spin around, and you snap again.

"Stop touching me," you blurt. Your skin crawls with the feeling, like bugs on your skin where his hand touches your arm. When he still doesn't let go of you, you look at him again and yank your arm away to no avail. Suddenly, you startle as you look him straight in the eye and almost shrink. He can see the switch, the way your anger dissolves into that of apprehension, almost fear. You can see the switch in his eyes, too. His amusement has worsened.

Your heart drops to your gut and pounds in your throat. "Please stop touching me." You've gotten almost desperate in the past second and Crane's cold eyes watch every little emotion pass through you like he's watching you under a microscope.

After a moment, he lets go of you. For a second, you think he looks pleased. Like he was conducting an experiment, and he proved his theory true. You put distance between the both of you as soon as you're able and grab your arm. He didn't hurt you, but you've officially been spooked. You don't meet his gaze.

"Forgive me again," he says. You don't feel like he's genuine, but you could be biased. "I seem to have offended you. That wasn't my intention." Was he lying? You feel like he's lying, but you refuse to look at him as he watches you. "Do you live far? How about I take you home?"

You do live a little far from here. You took a cab to get to the bookshop, but you don't feel comfortable getting in a car with him.

"Please," he says, putting more effort into removing the lack of emotion from his voice as he steps closer. You take a step back but catch the way he places his hands behind his back. No touching. An olive branch. He watches as you visibly relax a little. "Let me make it up to you."

You finally look up at his face again. There's a little bit of warmth in his eyes, and you can't tell if it's real or not. Still, he doesn't try to touch you again and he's offering you a smile. Part of you feels like you're being tricked, the book still tucked under your arm burning a hole there. But the other part of you feels like it's just your trust issues getting the better of you—as they often do. You take a moment to think.

And then you sigh as you let go of your arm and speak again. "One condition."

"Of course," he nods.

"Please don't touch me again."

His arms flex at his sides like he's re-establishing his hands being behind his back. "As you wish."

You sigh again and nod. "Okay."

He smiles, and you have to look away before you give into your trust issues again and forfeit his offer. His smile isn't pleased in the way it's meant to be. It feels like he's caught a fish on his hook, and he's reeling it in for dinner. You check out your books.

Dr. Crane leads you to his car, a black Buick LeSabre that looks like it has seen a couple of years, a couple dents here and scratches there giving character to the otherwise sleek thing.

He opens the passenger's door and lets you in. It's your last chance to say no but you get in anyway. You're in too deep, you already accepted.

He smiles, pleased. He takes his seat and starts driving. For the first few minutes, it's deadly quiet. Neither of you say anything—you're still pissy from before. Crane glances at you and decides to break the silence.

"Are you still upset?" he wonders unintelligently.

You glare at him out of the corner of your eye and then look away. Choosing to be a little kinder than you feel, you contain the sarcasm you can feel biting at your teeth. "Yes."

He sighs. "I apologize for my behavior. I didn't mean to frighten you."

You scoff, shaking your head as you look out of the window to see the world of Gotham pass by you. "Yes, you did."

He hums. "How do you know?"

I could see it in your eyes. It feels offensive to say, like you are accusing him of being insane. As you glance at him, you decide to reword your sentence.

"Just felt like it," you dismiss. You rub a hand along your arm, uncomfortable at the idea of being so vulnerable as to displaying fear to this man, this man who seemed to inspire so much distrust and unsafety in you. "And, anyway, I wasn't scared."

You miss the way his hands clench around the steering wheel. "No?"

"No," you shake your head. "Just…disturbed. You were being strange."

He clears his throat. "Like I said, it wasn't my intention." His voice has shifted, but you feel like he's finally telling you the truth. Disturbing you wasn't his intention.

You hum, and that's the last thing said between the two of you for the remaining few minutes of the car ride.

Your home comes into view and you sigh. This whole ordeal would be over in just a few seconds. He drives up to your house, and you make quick work of removing your seat belt and reaching for the door.

But the door is locked.

You look at him tentatively, trying not to let on how desperate you've become to leave his presence as quickly as possible. "Could you unlock the door?" you ask, your voice surprisingly level.

He turns to you to look at you. His smile comes after. "Of course."

The lock clicks, and you open the door immediately. You get out and stand at the door, relief floods you to be safely out of reach. "Thanks for the ride," you mutter half-heartedly.

"Of course," he repeats. "Until we meet again." He speaks your name, and you hate the way it makes you feel. Unclean. Impure.

You close the door.

As you watch his car disappear down the street, your blood runs cold with the icy burn of horror and you feel sick to your stomach.

You never gave him your address.

~

Someone's watching you.

All day, even within the safety of the precinct, you felt someone's eyes on you at every moment. You were constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly searching for a spector you could not find. But no one was looking at you. No one's eyes met yours unless you were in the middle of an interaction with another person.

You weren't safe. Something was going to happen. You could feel it–

You return to the present at the sight of another human being in front of you. You give a tight smile to the person perched at the edge of your desk and nod. "Gordon."

He greets you the same, glancing over your desk to see what you're working on. He has files in his hands, and you watch him set them on your desk in a place vacant of work.

"I need you to analyze these for me," he says.

You nod, "That's my job."

"Yeah," he says, looking you up and down and noticing the way you glance around a little. "You okay? You look a little jumpy."

You look at him quickly and nod, another tight smile covering your lips. "Oh, yeah. Felt a little off today, but I'm okay."

"Anything I need to help with?" he tries.

You shake your head. "No," you say. "No, I'm okay. Thanks."

He hums before he just nods along with you. "Okay. Be careful out there, Bou–"

You look at him, and he looks away.

"Sorry." He quickly corrects himself and walks away.

Gordon means well. Your father was arrested when he was first starting out, so he was here when it was still a huge deal. He knew all about you and the case. Everyone did.

Your name change came as soon as you started your job at the precinct. Everyone was so used to calling you Boucher's kid, some—like Gordon—are still adjusting.

But it doesn't matter. It's passing, and the whole ordeal will be behind you soon. Buried in the past forever.

You stay at the precinct for a while. It isn't safe anywhere, but at least you were surrounded by people who knew how to operate a gun better than you.

When those people finally begin going home, so do you. You pack your things and take a breath as you clock out and leave.

It's late as you're headed home, and you suddenly regret deciding to stay so long. It's dark out, and the only lights are the ugly orange street lamps shining on the damp ground and the blaring ones from a few passing cars. You clutch your purse and walk faster.

The feeling gets worse the longer it takes to get home. It's hot on the back of your head, it's cold along your arms, it has your heart dropping to your stomach and burning there as it pounds. Somebody's watching you. Somebody's watching you. Somebody is watching you.

You finally make it home. Fishing your keys from your purse, you manage to unlock the door without fumbling with them and dropping them to the ground like you see in those stupid horror movies that make your paranoia worse.

You unlock your door and step inside.

You're forced into a coughing fit as a heavy smoke envelopes you. You hold your arm up to your face as you swipe at the air in an attempt to clear it.

Your eyes and lungs burn as you fight to breathe, trying to see through the haze as your heart races in your chest so hard, you feel like it'll tear its way through your ribcage and fall to the ground with a sickening splat.

You close your door after stumbling fully inside, turning around to lock it and struggling to do even that. You turn and catch yourself on the stand next to the door, overestimating the reach and knocking the glass bowl that held your keys to the ground. It shatters, and you nearly scream at the startling sound.

You look up into your dark home and see a million eyes staring back at you. Shadows leap out at you from the corners, light from outside glints off huge, sharp butcher knives flying toward you. Sickly crows sprout from pictures in the walls and scream, a cacophony of "Boucher" and "butcher" filling the room with the shrill shrieks of a dying woman.

It takes a long time to separate from the front door. You stand on shaking legs, carrying yourself through the house and falling to the floor on more than one occasion, startling each time as you find yourself covered in more and more blood, the color so dark it appears black in your vision.

You don't know if you're crying when you feel the hot tears streaming down your cheeks or if you've managed to get blood on your face as well. You smear it over your cheeks just to see. With red already covering your hands, you're still not sure.

You get to your bedroom and flip on the light, but the bright flash blinds you as you shield your eyes and turn it off again. Eyes ooze out of the walls like millions of ogres watching you hold your weak body up against the wall.

"We meet again."

A dark, distorted voice echoes off the walls and fills your soul like a demon from hell possessing your body.

Your first instinct is the beg. For safety, for relief, for help, anything. You just want it to stop.

"Please," you cry. "Please, please, please."

You look up at the figure watching you, dressed in a slightly damaged suit and his face…his face is covered with a burlap sack remnant of that of a scarecrow. He tilts his head as he stands and makes his way toward you with a taunting pace.

"Am I scaring you now?"

"Please, please," is all you could muster as you look away from him.

"Look at me!" he roars.

You slowly bring your gaze back up as his shoes come into view. You look up at the man before you, one you are beginning to suspect is very real and the source of your fear as you stare at the sack over his face. Black ooze comes pouring from the tears that make up his mouth and fifty eyes are blinking back at you like a heavily rooted potato.

A hand finds the top of your head and you wince at the heavy, clammy feeling of it as you find your voice and beg a little louder. "Please! Please, no, please."

"Aww…you don't like when I touch you?" His hand smooths down your cheek and you try to swat it away from no avail. His sing-songy voice continues to echo in your ears with the groaning sound of a broken down animatronic. "What did Daddy do to you?"

You try to catch your breath as you lean down, pressing your forehead to the floor to try and ground yourself.

He raises a finger. “I can answer that question. Would you like me to?” You shake your head meekly. He ignores you.

You watch hazily as he backs away from you, finally taking his hand off your cheek and giving you air, even if you are still heaving for breath. He turns his back on you to stand by your bedside table, picking a file up from it and turning back to you. The burlap sack continues to blink at you as he speaks, and you feel sick to your stomach just looking at it.

The ground is sinking away, and the walls are breathing. You’re sitting on a stretch of darkness and void, and you’re going to start falling at any second.

“Please,” you whisper uselessly again. “He…lp. Please hel…help.”

“Hush,” he whispers, not in an upset way. It’s almost sassy. Then he lets out a dramatic sigh as he tilts his sacked head. “You know what? I’m going to have to take this off. It’s quite hard to read in this mask.”

He pulls the mask over his head and takes in a breath, looking back down at you with a face that runs your blood cold and stops your heart in your chest. “Much better,” he says, the distortion gone but the horror still present.

Jonathan Crane looks down at you, watching you struggle to clear your mind of the terrifying images flashing behind your eyes like a million million nightmares plaguing your thoughts. “I can see you better now. Isn’t that just perfect?”

He picks his glasses from the table beside him and readjusts the files in his hands after putting them on. “Let’s see,” he says, licking the tip of his finger to open the manilla folder and reveal its mysterious contents. “Yada, yada, yada…and bingo.”

He points to something on the papers in the folder and looks at you, his lips spreading in a grin that doesn’t stop widening, like his mouth is going to slip off his face. You blink away from him. He starts reading something off—a name, a patient number, and a date… Your therapist’s name, your patient number, and one of the date’s marked from a past appointment…

“‘Ms. Boucher’—this was before the name change, I suppose—‘finally chooses to open up about aversion to physical touch. She references instances from childhood memories with her father, times of hardship or general dismay when he provided her comfort. All comfort is described as physical, rather than verbal—holding a hand, sharing a hug, rubbing a back. Mr. Boucher never did well with verbal communication.’”

Crane glances at you, curled up on the ground as your head spins still, reeling with the revelation of everything you’re hearing as personal information that was never meant to get out. “Interesting stuff.” He keeps reading.

“Ms. Boucher recounts the night of her mother’s incident and the aftermath when her father came to her. Once again gives vague memories of a hug and a rubbed back, but no further detail was given due to distorted memories of the incident. Patient’s aversion is likely associated with distrust and suspicion because of the father’s behavior with physical affection. Patient experiences physical contact as a trick of virtue.”

He looks at you and smiles with teeth, rows and rows of sharp teeth that gleam in the light. He snaps his jaw at you in a teasing bite but you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Aw,” he fawns mockingly. “Are you traumatized, sweetheart? Did watching your father slaughter your mother with a butcher knife fuck up that little brain of yours?” He looks at the file again and scans it, muttering to himself as he goes along. “Other symptoms include irritability, trust issues, PTSD—obviously—sensitivity to sound, blah, blah, blah.”

You hadn’t realized you were crying. The sound only reaches your ears now, out of place with the rest of the sounds around you—the droning, the taunting, the screaming, the blinking of a million eyes in the walls, the brandishing of a million knives in the kitchen.

Again, you beg him. You don’t know what you’re begging for anymore.

“What?” Crane asks, looking down at you and raising a brow. “Was I just getting to the good part? Was that a please…keep reading?” When you gave no response, other than a startle flinch and cry at a deformed crow flapping around your head and disappearing.

“I’ll keep going then,” he nods, pleased. He keeps glancing back and forth between you and the file and he seems almost giddy. “Oh, I’m so excited now. I haven’t read this far yet, I wanted to do it with you.” He flips the page and hums. “Hm…let’s see…”

He scans the pages uninterestedly, gliding his finger along it and flicking the pages as he wanders back and forth between one end of the room and the other. “Oh, here’s a good part,” he says, sinking on the floor next to you as you clutch your head. He taps the top of your head to grab your attention, making you look up so he can see your exhausted face still stricken with copious amounts of fear, “Hey, pay attention. I don't want to repeat myself.”

He opens the file wide and begins reading. “Patient admits to having issues with intimacy. Her aversion to physical touch conflicting with her desperate need for it creates complications within both her romantic and sexual lives. She explains the issue is so ‘pathetic’, she remains…” He stops reading and looks at you again, his lips parted and his eyes wide with shock and interest. “...’she remains a virgin to this day’.”

In all honesty…you are not paying much attention to him. You’re staring wide-eyed at the floor, which has become a black void that stresses on for miles and miles. You swear you can see the eyes and teeth of angry leviathans glinting up from the bottom, ready to swallow you whole at a moment’s notice.

He takes your chin in the palm of his hand and tilts your head up to look at him. The sound that comes out of you out of the pure horror of it makes you sound like you’ve just been gutted. “Oh, sweetheart… If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”

He takes hold of you and lifts you to your feet. He has to hoist you, as your whole body feels limp, and you don’t know how to make it move without fully believing you’ll fall into the abyss below you. You gasp and stare wide eyed at Crane as one of his hands wraps around your throat and under your chin and the other holds the top of your head. You grab at his wrist and claw at his hand, trying desperately to remove his touch from you and failing horribly. He isn’t hurting you, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like it.

“I wonder how I didn’t pick up on it sooner…” he hums. “I’ve been watching you for months, and not once did you ever meet with a potential date of any kind. I kind of just assumed you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

Your heart leaps out of your mouth. You swear, you saw it fall to the ground like you’d thought before when whatever mist had begun all of this first started. Your blood freezes in your veins. You could swear your skin has turned blue.

He’s been watching you for months. His were the eyes that watched your every move, that followed you to work, to your bedroom, to your shower. His were the eyes that kept you company in the early of the morning and the late of the night. His were the eyes that haunted your waking hours, inspiring each glance over your shoulder, each extra click of your locks. He’s been watching you.

“Y-you,” you whimper. “You…you’re…you’re the one. You…”

“Shh,” he says, silencing you as you tremble in his hands. “I thought it was cute when you bought that book. The Art of Intuition… You could feel me, couldn’t you? You could feel my eyes on you at every moment of the day… Well, not every moment. I’ve got cameras in your house, I was able to hack into the ones at the precinct. I had to keep up with my little Boucher. I wanted to see if she could turn into her father, if she needed a little nudge like he did to go over the edge… I thought my fear toxin might do that but…no… I got something much more enticing.”

He brings you close to his face, his glasses melding with his skin as his eyes stare back at you like black pits surrounded by pure white. He’s staring at your face, so drenched with pure terror that you can’t do anything but stare. He smiles wide, his expression crazed.

“Look at you,” he says, nearly moaning out the words as he shakes his head. “You look so gorgeous like this. You’re so…delicious.” He nearly growls when he says that, actually leaning closer to your face and taking your lip between his teeth gingerly. You cry out, though he doesn’t actually bite you. “I could just eat you up. Oh, you should see yourself.”

You’re crying without tears now, though your face is soaked with them. You haven’t blinked in hours (it’s been a couple minutes), and the sounds are leaving your throat like a rough sob. His eyes have disappeared and his glasses are only giving aid to pits of skin where his eyes should be. His mouth is sewn shut with ugly, black cross-stitchings, and his nose is gone, giving him a dip in his face like a skeleton.

He begins walking you toward the mirror that you definitely had not placed there. He must have taken it from inside your closet and hung it up prior to your arrival. You take a good, long look at yourself, and you’ve never felt like you’ve wanted to sink into the pit so strongly before.

You’ve never seen this woman before in your entire life. Her face is monstrous, though you don’t know why. She was an echo of you, except she looks nothing like you and she’s covered in blood. You know nothing and everything about her, and you just know she knows everything about you. You’re so terrified of this strange woman, the knives still brandishing themselves with their shrill shrieks in the kitchen are sounding quite useful now as the sudden urge to defend yourself fills you.

You feel the need to scream rise in your throat, and this is an urge you can’t contain as a sharp cry leaves your throat at the sight of this person being held by Crane in the mirror. She screams back at you, blood gushing from her mouth like a river of tar. He laughs as he covers your mouth with his hand, silencing you with such amusement. “Oh, my! I should not have given you such a high dosage. You must be going out of your little mind right now…”

He lets go of your mouth and you can see him rustle around in his suit, but you’re still staring at the woman, unable to look away. It takes everything you have not to scream at her again. He pulls a vial out of a pocket on the inside of his suit and pulls the cork from it. He encourages your lips around it, making you take half the vial into your mouth and forcing you to swallow it down.

The antidote works quickly, but it doesn’t solve the issue in its entirety. You watch as the woman in the mirror slowly becomes more and more familiar until you can look at her and see that it’s just a reflection of you. You sigh heavily, your chest heaving as you feel your heart back in its proper place behind your ribcage. The brandishing has disappeared, the birds have flown away, the shrieking and screaming and sinking and blinking are gone.

But your heart is still very much pounding and you still very much cannot catch your breath to calm yourself. The terror is still there as you stare upon Jonathan Crane’s face and feel the first bursts of necessary fear.

You are in danger. Real danger. Crane is in your house, he has your medical files, and he seems to think you want him in your bed.

“Please,” you whisper once you can find your voice, hoarse with all the crying. At least the blood is gone. “Please, let me go. Don’t hurt me…”

“Oh…” he says. “I know…it’s just your ‘aversion of physical contact’. It’s too much for you right? Well, lucky for you, I dabble in exposure therapy myself. We should be able to solve your issue right here, right now.”

New tears find your eyes, and you shake your head. He’s still holding you, and your skin is crawling. You feel sick. “Don’t… Please don’t. I can’t—I don’t—please.”

He shushes you as he drags you to the bed. You have little to no strength to fight him. You’d exerted yourself so much when that toxin had poisoned your brain. It’s still poisoning your brain now as the situation Jonathan was putting you through paralyzed you with fear. You couldn’t think, you could hardly form a full sentence. His hands are still on you, and it burns your skin. You can’t breathe.

He places you on the bed, positioning you how he wants you so you stand on your knees and face him. He takes a step back and looks at you, takes in the sight of you thoughtfully as he brushes his bottom lip with his thumb. “Look at you,” he mutters. “I liked you more with more of my fear toxin in your system, but we can bring out more fear in you without. We don’t want your little heart exploding in the middle of our session, now do we?”

If you were still so heavily infected with his toxin, you would have seen the splatters of blood and meat and matter bursting and covering you and the walls after seeing your own beating heart fall out of your mouth. But you aren’t as heavily infected, so you only imagined it vividly and shuddered.

Jonathan steps forward and takes your neck in his hand again. You squeeze your eyes shut and huff, “Please, stop. Stop, stop touching me, please. Please.”

He doesn’t listen. He’s too giddy at the way you beg him, the way your hands shake at your sides. You could try to fight him. You could swing your arms and hit and kick and scream but you just…won’t. You can’t. You’re too scared. The toxin affects you so much you can do nothing but sit there. You’re otherwise paralyzed.

So, no, he doesn’t let go of you. He holds your neck and brings you in close, his other hands smooths along your waist as you just shudder as a terrible sob leaves your chest once more. “I’m going to eat you up,” he emphasizes each word. “You and I are gonna work together. We’re going to work you through your little aversion, your fears. You and I…” He brings his hand up and brushes his knuckles over your clothed nipple.

You shake with fear and disgust. “No, please…”

He takes off his glasses, his hand continuing to graze your chest as you sit there, staying as still as you can as his hand threatens to tighten around your throat if you move too much when he doesn’t want you to.

"...are going to make art." You stare at him with your watery eyes, whimpering lightly as he just shushes you again.

His lips crash down upon yours and your seal them shut as you feel his tongue licking insistently at the seam of your mouth. His teeth clash against yours, making the kiss rough and cutting and you think you'll die.

All too quickly, you can't breathe. Your lungs are closing in, and the world is spinning. His hand finds your hair, carding through it and tugging harshly to expose your throat. He attacks you, lips and teeth and tongue devouring your throat like a starving beast.

You're burning. There are so many hands on you, so much touch all over your body driving you insane with sensitivity. You feel like someone has coated you in molten lava and condemned you to death.

You sigh shakily. "Jon—Jonathan. Please… stop."

"Shhh," he drags out the sound as he places a finger over his lips. He leans in close to your face as he speaks. "Please…the doctor is in."

He kisses you again and you gasp when he grabs your throat once more, baring his teeth and staring down at you shaking with fear. His voice is low and fast as he speaks to you, crazed and craven. "I am going to rip you apart. I'll make you scream until mine is the only name you know–"

He raises his hand to touch your face. A sudden burst of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you reach out to shove it away. You grab his hand by the wrist in a vice grip, but you hadn't realized there was something hiding beneath the cuff of his sleeve.

The mist from before—his toxin—sprays through the air and right into Jonathan's face as he inhales it with a terrible gasp. His mouth falls open, his eyes roll back. His grip on you loosens, and you stumble to your feet to get away from him.

You get to the door before he grabs you from behind and growls in your ear, his voice straining. "You didn't think you'd get away that easily, did you?" He's breathing loudly, roughly, his vision plagued by nightmares and horrible images haunting his mind.

He lets out a monstrous breath, picking you up and dragging you right back to the bed as you kick and scream and cry. He set you on the bed, still holding you, back-to-chest. "You're an angel," he grunts. "You're glowing, sweetheart."

Based on your experience with the toxin, he could be being literal. Either way, he isn't letting you go. You're trapped as his wandering hands pull at your clothes and rip your shirt from your body. He lets the rags fall around you, breathing in deeply and letting out a sound akin to a moan as the hallucinations get the better of him.

He just starts tearing, stripping you clothing by clothing. He yanks your slacks from your legs, but you don't let him do it easily as you continue to kick your feet out and cry.

After a while, your fight begins to wane at his nerves as he wraps his arms around you and holds you still. "There's plenty of toxin left if you want me to dose you again."

You still, holding your breath and feeling the anxiety and dread rise within you with each passing second. "I didn't think so," he whispers. His hands grab at your waist, pulling and palming at your sides like you've still got clothes he needs to remove. But you're completely bare, carved open for the world to see.

"Fuck," he curses, blinking quickly as he stares at you. "You have no idea how much I need you. This perfect body and these…beautiful nightmares make for the perfect combination." It sounds like it takes his whole body to breathe in. He sighs heavily, "I guess I should thank you, hm? For giving me this."

His hand grasps your inner thigh and his nails dig into the flesh. A shout forces its way out of your throat at the feeling of his claw-like fingers scratching all of your terribly exposed skin. He moans loudly at the sound of it, his other hand joining to paint you in red. Jonathan pushes your naked body down on the bed, and you shout when his hand cracks down on your ass in a loud smack. His—still fully clothed—body is pressed against yours once again in no time. He reaches a hand up and cards it through your hair, gripping it to pull you back up with a harsh tug.

"Look at yourself, sweetheart," he breathes. When you don't listen, he becomes angry and erratic. "Look! Look at it!"

You jump at his outburst, turning your shaky head to look at your reflection in the mirror. He'd placed it so specifically. He was always going to make you watch…

He pulls your hair tighter and smiles evilly. "Look at you," he sighs. Looking in the mirror and watching him, you have no idea what he's seeing in that fucked up mind of his, but you know it would break you.

You feel him grind his hips into you and close your eyes, opening them quickly again as not to irritate him further. "Do you feel how hard I am for you? Oh, baby, I'm going to split you in half."

"Please, doctor," you beg again.

His evil grin becomes all the worse, and you hear the sound of his belt clinking. "No, no, no, no, no," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you bury your face in the sheets of your bed, soaking it with your tears.

"Beg me to fuck you, sweetheart. Beg me to ruin you," he groans. You continue shaking your head and muttering your protests under your breath. "Do it."

You feel like your heart is going to explode in your chest. You can't breathe. You can't see. You just want an end to the madness, to the torture.

"Please," you sob. "Please, please, please, please, please, please."

It doesn't sound like a word anymore. It sounds like gibberish in your brain as he smiles and sighs, so pleased and so happy with you. The insanity clouds your head.

"Music to my ears," he hums. "Well…since you asked so nicely."

He reaches down and you shake when his middle finger presses against your folds, slick with arousal that had begun wetting your panties since the toxin first sent you into your craze.

"Oh, you're so desperate for me, aren't you?" He shakes his head and chuckles. "Must be why you begged me so much."

You don't have the will to fight his claim. You feel dirty at the making of it anyway.

Jonathan takes his cock into his hand and strokes himself twice. You feel the head of his cock poke at your pussy, working its way between your folds until he's perfectly positioned. He pushes his hips into yours slowly, and you want to sob, but there's so few tears left in you to make more than the sound as he does, in fact, split you open on his cock.

He's so big, so thick as he thrusts inside of you and fills you to the brim. You cry out at the feeling, the pressure so great it's painful, the intrusion much bigger than what your fingers have to offer.

"Ah," you keen. "D-Doctor, please."

He moans roughly as he bottoms out inside of you, his mouth hanging ajar as his hips jerk slightly at the way you tighten around him. "Yeah, does that feel good? You want more? Want me to fuck you?"

You bury your face in the sheets. "H-Hurts. Please, stop, it hurts."

His cock twitches inside you, and you think you'll die. "I love it when you beg me to fuck you, sweetheart. You look so pathetic under me like this. Just see for yourself…"

He yanks your hair back again to make you look. He doesn't let you go either, his hand stays firmly in your hair as he holds you up to keep looking, to keep watching, to keep your eyes on your bodies as he slowly begins to fuck you. He gives you no preparation, he gives you no time to adjust. Once he's fully inside of your tight cunt and you've started tightening around the thickness he fills you with, he just starts rutting into you.

His hips snap into yours, dragging harshly inside of you as you scream and shout and squirm. He's tearing you apart, piece by piece. And he keeps fucking you as more and more slick begins to ease the cruelty.

You don't know how long you're there gripping the sheets and whining and clenching your eyes shut before the pain begins to twist and turn in your belly into an uncomfortable and unwelcome kind of pleasure.

And when Jonathan hears the telltale sign of your cries turning into moans, he completely loses his mind.

If he hadn't been fucking you hard before, he certainly is now. He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you to stand on your knees as he straightens your backs and begins to thrust up into you while he makes you watch. He spreads your legs wide and plays with your nipples, pulling your body down to meet each thrust of his hips as he completely wrecks you. All the sounds mixing in the air—the moans, the grunts, the slick skin, the heavy breathing, the sobbing—it's a filthy symphony of terror in your ears and beauty in his.

One of his hands, trying to find purchase on something, finds your hair and just starts petting you, carding his fingers through it and occasionally deciding to yank your head back in the process. "Listen to you," he huffs. "You're loving it. I can tell."

All you can do in response is cry and hope it doesn't come out as a moan (it does).

"Doesn't it feel so good? Feeling me touch you, feeling me hold you, feeling me fuck you hard and raw?"

His hand finds your clit and he starts rubbing it, his pace rough and fast and much too hard for you to think it would work. But it does, because you immediately shudder as he begins his brutal work. His finger flicks it so fast, your whole body is already shaking as he builds you up until you're crashing down.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck," he groans as you flutter around him. You gasp, going blind as your orgasm crashes down on you like nothing you've ever felt. He grabs your throat and turns your head to face the mirror so you continue watching as he fucks you through it, both your mouths open and gasping for air as your pleasure consumes you, devours you, swallow you whole.

You won't say you did it on purpose. If you could go back and change it, you should…but you could not promise you would as you take hold of Jonathan's wrist and release his toxin in your own face once more.

You gasp and you roll your eyes back and you find your body numb for a moment as all the nightmares from before come back. Your little heart can't take it as the walls start literally jumping out at you like the corpses of a million souls long past. Bats and birds and bugs fly around the room. Hands are reaching up from the sheets in the bed and grasping your arms and legs and holding you down.

Jonathan's faltering thrusts remind you he's there as you find the mirror and his monstrous form watches you. He looks impressed, even through the hundred fangs and black eyes. "Poor girl's so fucked out, she wants more," he coos, his voice returning back to the demonic groaning you'd been met with when you first stumbled into your room to find him there. "Do you like it? Do you like my nightmare? Are you in love with the horrors in your mind?"

You've stopped crying. Your face is open and wide as you stare out, silent terror gluing your frantic gaze to the mirror. He groans at the sight of you, clamping his teeth down on your shoulder before pushing you forward to stand on your hands and knees as he takes your hips and starts slamming his own into you.

All you can do is moan as you watch him fuck you, taking you from behind with an animalistic kind of frenzy. Your mouth hangs open, you look drunk as he plows you from the back. You grip the sheets, but you watch as a pair of hands sprouting from the bed reach up and hold your own to keep you planted there.

A rough thrust drags through your pussy and makes you moan, a rough and deep thing that scratches your throat as you clench the hands. Your cunt tightens around him, sucking him into you with each shove of his cock inside of you.

"Fuck," he huffs. "This little cunt is so tight. You've been needing me, haven't you?" His hips snap harshly into you suddenly. "I'm gonna watch this over and over again."

You forgot about that, his confession to setting up cameras all over your house. You wonder briefly where the one in your room is stored, at which angle he's going to watch himself fuck you into the bed over and over again. You wonder how many times he's watched you touch yourself in this bed over and over again. Because he's been watching you.

You gasp and moan and shake and let him use you like a doll. You watch yourself in the mirror as your face melts off. You watch Jonathan as his long talons dig into your hips like blades. You hold onto the hands still gripping yours and hang your head as he fucks you. You groan, letting yourself feel the pleasure and hating yourself for it.

You're so conflicted. Your heart is pounding and your body is shaking and you feel like you're going to die, but the pleasure clinging to your body like blood to cotton is so mind-numbing that you've become one with the corpses in the walls.

"It's like this little cunt was made for me," he huffs. "I think I'll keep you. Your mind is broken enough." You whimper. "I'll have you thrown in Arkham with your father, and I'll fuck your brains out so you never get too lonely. How does that sound?"

When you don't reply, he pulls on your hair again and brings his lips to whisper beside your ear. "Do you want that? Hm?"

You make a ramble of incoherent sounds, murmuring something entirely unintelligible as you whimper and mewl.

"Yeah," he sighs. "I know… That would make your little heart soar, wouldn't it? You can tell me."

You give the same response.

He rewards you with a smile with a rough thrust that has the bats on the ceiling fluttering back down to you. They swarm your heart and Jonathan watches you look at every single one of them as they fly past.

"Fuck, I'm keeping you."

You're going to cum again, you can feel it. You're on the verge as his fast, rough thrusts drag inside of you with the squelching of your cunt. But it seems you're not the only one as you feel Jonathan's hands tighten around your hips as his pace stutters.

His grunts and groans are becoming more desperate, melting into moans as his plump lips hang open. He laughs at something, something jumping out at him in his own mind as you stare at the wall, each inch covered in butcher knives hanging on hooks. They glint and gleam in the moonlight and you can hear them rattling, ready to fly off the walls and impale themselves in you.

Your voice is small and pitchy and weak as you mumble. "B-Bu… Butch… B—ch… Ahh…"

"What?" he hums. "What's got you so distracted?"

You continue to stare at the wall, trying and failing to speak properly as blood seeps out of the metal and stains the hundred blades. "Bu…"

For once, you think he can see what you're seeing as he looks up at the wall you're staring at. His face lights up and he stares in awe, his lips parting as he does. "Your butcher." He whispers in your ear. "Isn't it beautiful?"

You continue to stare, even after Jonathan lets out a growl and pushes you forward again as he shoves your face into the covers. The hands let go of yours to grab your face, wrapping around your head and holding you down as a clammy palm covers your mouth. You stare at the knives, staining your floors with crimson red.

Your words and your whimpers are muffled by the hand as he thrusts harshly into you. Jonathan stares, wildly fascinated by the way your hallucinations control you on such a physical level. He can see that you're being muffled but he finds no hand. He can see that your body is being pinned down to the bed, but he sees no fingers wrapping around your arms and legs and keeping you there.

He takes hold of your hands, placing them over your head and holding them down as he fucks into you with a new angle. His cock fucks into your tight cunt in shorter, faster, rougher thrusts that has the birds swarming around you again.

You can't think straight, and you're sure your heart has stopped. You've been through so much in the past…you don't know how long. You came home to be poisoned by his fear toxin, assaulted by living nightmares, given half an antidote to the toxin, fucked by your stalker, poisoned again, and now you're still being fucked dumb with promises doing it again.

And you're going to cum. You hadn't realized he began rubbing your clit again, all the pleasure has run together into one big conglomeration of filthy ecstasy. His cock is pounding into a specific part of you that's making you sob again and you think for a moment you might be drooling, but you're too far away from your body to know for sure until he says: "Look at you, sweetheart. So fucking dumb, you're drooling all over the sheets. Am I making you feel that good?"

You mutter incoherently again, and he just laughs at you. The sound melts into a rough groan on a deep thrust. "Fuck, you keep sucking my cock in. I'm gonna cum in this perfect little cunt, and I'm going to keep you forever… I'm never fucking letting go of you, little Boucher."

Boucher. Boucher. Boucher. Boucher. You're surrounded by Boucher. The knives on the wall, the hands holding you down, this man abusing your cunt and calling you that cursed name. Driving you insane. Making you crazy. Just like him.

How easy it would be to lose yourself in it, in the insanity. How easy it would be to give in. To become Boucher… To succumb to the madness…

You squeeze him as he fucks you as hard as he can, and you feel his cock swell inside of you as he grinds his hips roughly into you.

"Oh, fuck!" he gasps, moaning as he snaps. His release hits him like a freight train, the world closing in on him as he loses all grip on reality and fucks his cum into you like a crazed beast. The feeling of it makes you gasp, the hot lava filling the pit of your belly and warming you up.

He keeps grinding into you as he flicks his wrist and rubs wildly at your clit. You burst. Your heart in your chest, your brain in your head, the knot in your belly—it all snaps at once and you cry out against the hand over your mouth. Your mind is gone and your body is shaking, accepting the madness and the pleasure and the filth and becoming one with it like you should have from the start.

The nightmares devour you, the horror sinks into your skin. You shake and cry and moan. He grabs you by the base of your skull, weaves his fingers through your hair, and pulls as he rides out the rest of his release and he swears he hears a muffled laugh bubble out of you from under your breath.

He watches as your body trembles, your moans continuing on even longer than he thought they would as the aftershocks of your release rise within you. You're still fluttering around him as you lie on the bed and mumble under your breath.

When Jonathan's pleasure has waned enough to think, he lets out a deep sigh and pulls out of you with a regretful one. You whine, laying there heavily. He scoops you up with his arms wrapped around your body and speaks into your ear.

"What's on your mind, Boucher?"

His breath is steady in your ear, providing a solid ground for you to stand on as he pulls you away from the hands reaching up to embrace you once more. You watch the knives shine on the wall and blink lazily at them as the smallest ghost of a smile graces your lips.

"Bou…" the word falls short, and he just watches in awe.

"What?" he whispers. "What is it?"

You grab one of his hands and pull it around your body, leaning into his.

"Beautiful."

~

Bright, sterile surfaces are all you see as you stare at the room around you. You lean your head against a white, padded wall as the jacket tying your arms to your body keeps you safe and warm. It's so monotonous, so quiet and droning as you glare at the blank walls around you with a frustrated sigh. It’s just all too mindless.

You tilt your head toward the door when you hear the locks click heavily. When Jonathan steps inside with a pleased grin and a briefcase held tight in one hand, you can't help the smile that begins to spread over your lips.

"Hello, Ms. Boucher," he greets you warmly. "Are you ready for our appointment?"

He opens his case, and his burlap mask falls out.

You look down at it, your expression almost giddy as your eyes—which have been open wide since the moment his fear toxins had first blessed your senses—gaze back at him. "Dr. Crane…" you lift your head. "I've been waiting."

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyism @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows Tag yourself here...

[mistywaves98]

BEST FRIEND I BEG YPU FOR MORE YAN SCARA/WANDERER 🙏🏾🙏🏾

Imagine him forcing you to accompany him on his travels, and whenever he’s like horny or something he forces you off the path/road and just screws you under a random tree or something 😭

I really liked this little prompt and I wanted to use this idea for my event, hope that's alright anon! ^^

✧･ﾟ:* ->Yandere! Wanderer(Scaramouche) x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: Scaramouche is referred to as Wanderer, Plot isn't really that great, Don't question the logic in this fic,Implied degradation, Dub con/Non con, Yandere/Dark Themes, Forced companionship, Stockholm Syndrome (?), Descriptions of messy sex, uhh not really much else to add!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

He often referred to the both of you as 'travel companions' which usually made people's eyebrows raise in surprise. You couldn't blame them, as you two certainly did not look like equals. Not when your hands were constantly bound together and absolutely not when there was a rope tied around your neck, the end tied to Wanderer's hand. To those who were none the wiser to your situation, it seemed like you were his slave. And at times he did seem to treat you like one, but he also treated you like a friend, maybe even a lover, other times. Most of the times it was the latter but if you behaving particularly rebellious or stubborn, he'd make sure you knew your place.

Sometimes you wonder how you ended up here and it would all come back.

You had met him in Sumeru while on a journey to visit some distant relatives and when you heard he was on a journey too, you offered to let him accompany you. He was taken aback, but also seemed intrigued at the idea of travelling with another person. So he decided to join you.

To two of you walked side by side, admiring the many sights and scenery you passed along the way. The way you smiled so happily made him feel happy as well. Whenever the day turned into night you would find somewhere to stop and rest while he 'kept watch' as he told himself since he didn't actually need sleep, not that you knew and always thought he was just an early bird. The way you treated him, so kind and friendly, it warmed the heart he didn't have and even if he didn't want to admit it, he liked that feeling, the feeling you gave him.

One day however, after you had woken up and gotten ready to set off again, you suddenly noticed that you were going off course and let him know, beckoning him to follow you down another path. He didn't seem to be listening though. His eyes we're focused on something in the distance. Then suddenly, to your shock, he grabbed your arm and pulled you down a different way. You yelped and struggled helplessy and said if his destination needed you to part ways from here, he should let you go. He responded only by saying that he wanted to see the world and you were going to see it with him, like it or not.

Since you wouldn't come quietly, Wanderer was forced to subdue you and tie you up so you couldn't run away, which you tried, each attempt more futile than the last. Now you were stuck by his side, going wherever he wished, 'enjoying' the sights with him, which really was just you waiting for him to finish take it all in before continuing your endless journey.

But that wasn't all journeying him included. Whenever he got horny, however it happened, be prepared to be pinned down and have your guts rearranged until he's satisfied.

It's really random too, one moment you're walking down a dirt path and the next you're being pushed up against the rough bark of a tree. He's not nice about it either, he's mean and rough, holding your hips in place as he pounds into you at a pace you can't keep up with. Drool runs down your chin and your eyes practically roll back into your skull from how good it feels as tears stream down your cheeks at his degrading words he spits at you.

It doesn't matter how many times you've cum, or if you came at all, Wanderer won't stop until he's had his pleasure of finishing inside you as much as he wants. In that moment you're merely a sex doll to him. And when he's done, he simply zips up his pants and pulls on the rope around your neck, a silent gesture telling you to get up and if you can't, well, that isn't really his problem to fault that your mortal self can't taking a little fucking, so you're simply gonna have to be ok with being dragged across the floor, but not before he has a little laugh at your pathetic state, disheveled hair, sweaty clothes, shaking legs and that fucked out face always brings out a dark giggle from.

If there happens to be a water source nearby, say a lake or something, he'll be a bit more generous and help you clean yourself up. Perhaps you two will rest there for a while but most of the times he's too eager to get going.

As time goes by you slowly feel as if you're being eaten alive from the inside. Travelling with him is taking a bigger toll on you than you would have thought. And it shows. Day by day your appearance becomes more and more worn down, you're tired. But you can't do much about your situation now. You're too tired to run away and even if you had the energy to do so, it would only be a matter of time before he found you again and the earth you'd have to face would be borderline unbearable.

Eventually you just accepted it. Accepted that this is your life now, that it's pointless trying to think of escaping. Wanderer noticed it too. The way you were more compliant and less resistant to his advances, it made him happy.

Finally, he's broken you down into the submissive pet he wanted from the start. It's rather sad that he probably won't see you smile naturally anymore, but he can always force one onto your lips, real or not, so he can get over that. He's just pleased that you know your place now, by his side and the both of you will spend the rest of eternity together, he'll make sure of that, one way or another.

[highonmarvel]

Hello! It's not 2024 yet,but it will be in one more day so Happy New Year in Advance! May I please request a dark!reader with a soft!dark Bucky? Not a dark or fully dark Bucky but soft dark one like the Bucky you wrote in your recent story called 'Himalayan Salt'. Your dark Bucky really scares me as they are truly dark and cruel,and stay true to the dark fics genre. But for this request,may I request that he won't do any hitting or physical abuse towards the reader? Because I find that I really liked your 'Himalayan Salt' soft!dark!Bucky.

My request is dark!reader is obsessed with Bucky and stalks him,snaps his pictures to keep to herself,steal his stuffs to keep as souveniers,basically everything a yandere would do. But she has no clue that Bucky is also obsessed with her,probably more than she is of him and that he knows everything that she's doing to him when she thought he wasn't looking or didn't notice. He even finds it amusing and think of her as an adorable amateur stalker. She doesn't talk to him and never introduces herself to him (which Bucky wishes she would do) because she thinks someone as handsome as Bucky wouldn't even spare someone like her a glance so she resorts to watching him and fantasizing about him from afar.

Reader got herself in his apartment (that he didn't have proper security or proper locks for on purpose so she can enter easily and his apartment,not hers,because she wouldn't be able to get him back to her place as easily) to hide and wait until he gets back. He has tiny cameras in his apartment that connects to his phone that let him know that Reader is in his apartment and is about to kidnap him. He get home ASAP,acts normal and unaware and purposely stands near to a spot that he knows reader is hiding at and turns his back to her to let her knock him out. She knocked him out and tied him up/restraints him on his bed. He woke up some time later to reader explaining her plan to keep him and reader forces herself on him. Which he pretends not to like at first so he can let her have her moment and let her think she has the upper hand here. But then he started laughing and giggling which confuses and creeps reader out before he broke out of his restraints easily and flipped her over,pinning her on his bed and revealing that he's knew all along and he's far more obsessed with her as he thinks about her everyday,enjoying the little game they play that's she's unaware of and have his way with her in the end. His turn.

I know you said to expect physical abuse or hitting in your fics as they are dark fics but I want to request that Bucky doesn't hit or physically abuse reader in any way in this one,if I can. And vice versa with reader never hitting or physically abuse Bucky except to knock him out as I find her chloroforming an enchanced super soldier unrealistic. Just the non con or dub con committed towards Reader by Bucky in the end. So I guess it's a soft!dark!reader x soft!dark!Bucky request.

Sorry for this long & shitty request and sorry if this isn't really in your lane. I just needed to get this off my chest before I forgot about the idea completely. And I just wanted to try my luck. It's also okay if you don't want to do it,I understand ❤ I'll be treating myself to your other works and upcoming stories in the future. Take care of yourself,hope you're doing well,stay safe and have a blessed New Year ❤❤❤ Thank you for just reading through my terrible request alone and sorry to put you through this lol. Thanks again ❤ Much love! 💞

i’m gonna be honest with you, i wasn’t really into this. the idea sounds cool but i’m not really into dark!reader, though i see where you’re coming from, and i get that my fics are really fucking dark, but someone has to do it. but this was so well thought out and you were so kind at the end i had to do it for ya. and i had fun! it was outside my comfort zone, that’s why it took so long (among other things.) you had a lot here so i apologise if it doesn’t come out as you wanted, but i tried my best, and i did change it just a little bit. here it is:

Amateur Hour

Bucky Barnes: A glimpse generates an obsession, though maybe it’s not as one-sided as you think.

content warnings here!

Sort of subdued all your life, you’ve never had the courage to come right out and say you liked someone, and that led you to observation more than conversation, watching people you admire closely, but nothing more, until you see him.

It’s a fairly overcast day, the sun just peaking out enough so as to not make the air cold. You sit peacefully on a park bench, reading a novel without the threat of rain tempting fear of getting your book wet. You hear someone coming down the path, obviously, because this is a public park, and you don’t know why you look up, but you do, and the wind is knocked right out of your chest.

You’ve never seen a man as beautiful as him, brown hair and mysterious steel blue eyes with a perfectly sculpted jawline and just enough stubble so as to make your heart rate pick up. You don’t realise you’re staring after him until he turns and gives you a quick friendly smile, pink lips upturning for a moment before he continues, but enough to make you develop an obsession of sorts.

You’re used to watching people you admire, and that’s as far as it goes, but this… this is different. He has to have been sculpted by God Himself, strong arms and broad shoulders you all but want to be wrapped in. You could never speak to a man like that, but you could never let him escape in the streets and never see him again, you’re already haunted by the image of him having only briefly met his eyes, you know you’ll go insane if you don’t know him, and so a less insane option is to… watch.

Very casually, you shut your book and stand, stretching before strolling in his direction, keeping your footsteps small enough so that you can follow without him getting suspicious as to why you don’t overtake him. You take in the tress around you, nature you usually appreciate, but you can’t really observe any beauty anymore without knowing they will never compare to the man in front of you. It’ll never be enough now.

And you don’t know it, but Bucky smirks to himself as he hears your gentle footsteps behind him.

You turn out as he does, and usually you would be more vigilant to pickpockets and busy people speed walking on the pavements of New York, but there’s nothing in the world that can take your focus off of the back of his head. You’re sure you must have bumped into a few people, but you can’t recall it, mumbling an apology every once in a while until you stop them completely, trying to keep as silent as possible. You follow him for a bit, though you’re not sure how long; every concept you’ve ever known—time and space—are nothing compared to him. You’re desperate for him to look at you again, you almost want to out yourself right then and there and force his lips onto yours, but you know that’s dumb, yet still it takes you a lot more self control that you ever thought you needed to keep your cool.

You reach a block of apartment buildings and slow down slightly—with less people around, you don’t want to look suspicious. When he turns to one, you turn to the one across the street, watching in the reflection of the glass door entrance as he lets himself into a building. So that’s where he lives. You jot down the address in your notes app and take a picture of the place, just in case, ducking behind a car to see if one of the windows will open revealing him. You frown when after a few minutes, there’s no movement, and so you head around the back, where the flat is facing an empty lot rather than a long road. And you see him, standing by his window, the breeze perfectly combing through his hair.

So you’re the quiet type, you note, seeing as he’d rather his place face no one than everyone. You can’t help yourself from taking another picture, and just before he disappears from your sight. Once he’s gone, you press your back against the wall and grip your phone with both hands to take in that beautiful sight forever. You can’t fight it anymore, you have to know him.

***

Bucky chuckles to himself as he steps back. He knew you were in the park, he came specifically for a walk to see you, but he wasn’t really expecting you to have such an immediate and visceral reaction to the sight of him. Bucky’s no stranger to flirty glances, but he saw that glint in your eyes, and he knows it; it’s the same one he had when he saw you. When he heard you get up behind him, he hoped it was because you were going to introduce yourself (not that he needed your name, but that seemed like an easier way to go about it) but when the sound of your footsteps didn’t speed up or die down, he knew you were following him. Bucky’s obsession with your started when you’d sweetly bought a cake in a cute bakery, and you just screamed innocence to him right off the bat. Now, well, maybe you’re not so innocent in your own eyes, but, if anything, you’re a little naïve to him, and he finds it adorable.

***

The next day you head back over and sit in your car for a little bit, waiting for him to come out, but you get an opportunity just as good. The mailman comes around with probably some junk mail, and you hop out your car, pretending you were entering your own building. When he opens the door, you stop him.

“I’m just going in, don’t worry, I can take it from you,” you say with a friendly smiles. He thanks you for helping him on his long route as he hands you a few letters and magazines: junk. You wave him goodbye as you step in and the door falls shut behind you.

“Do you live here?” a voice asks, and you startle as you turn to security seated behind a desk.

“No! I’m just volunteering a little on the mail route,” you smile at him, innocently, and raising the pitch of your voice to appear sweeter, “And I’m sorry, I just need a little help getting it into the right boxes.

“Well, I can do it for you,” he offers, but you shake your head.

To avoid suspicion you offer, “Well, there’s five floors, you can do floors one and two and I’ll do three and up.” You counted that the man you’re obsessed with lives on the fourth floor.

He agrees and you get to work putting mail where he tells you each person and their door number.

*

“James B Barnes?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. You had done a few on his floor and asked a little about each, but most of them were either women or people living together, and you knew he had to live alone, he seems really reserved and to himself, likes the quiet.

“James? I don’t know a James…” you frown as he furrows his brows in thought, but suddenly he snaps his fingers and smiles, “Ah, Barnes! That’s Bucky, 4D, really keeps to himself.”

Bucky. But you have to make sure it’s the right person.

“I see,” you say as you gently place letters in a box on the fourth row marked with the letter D, “You don’t know much about him?”

“Nah, only that he’s really into gloves, never see him without ‘em, even in scorching hot weather.”

The man you saw yesterday was wearing gloves, even though it wasn’t really cold. That has to be him.

It takes a while to fill up the rest as you try to keep friendly conversation going to not appear suspicious. When you’re finally done, he goes back to scribble something down on a piece of paper.

“You know, he says as he finishes it off, “If you’re going to be coming down this way for a while, you should have the building code, make it easier for you,” he hands you the piece of paper with a smile.

“Thank you!” you say, a little too eagerly as you read the code: 8496, “I’m often busy with work so I’m not sure how many days I can be here,” you sulk, “But I’ll try come in every once in a while, count on it.”

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, apartment 4D, you’re getting somewhere.

You’ve started to notice that you’ve been so distracted lately you’ve been misplacing items; a t-shirt you thought was in your cupboard would end up on the floor, a few of your bras seem to have disappeared, and you can’t find random notes you’ve written and placed throughout the house. But it’s fine, once you have him you can deal with all that: none of that is as important as Bucky.

*

You’ve always been a bit of a loner, but the next two weeks you spend talking to no one, not even responding to work emails as you stalk Bucky. You’ve managed to sneak in a few times (he doesn’t lock his door) and grab some of his stuff—you even wear his t-shirts sometimes, absolutely intoxicated by his scent—snap a few pictures for memories. Following him around, you find that you were right: he is more of a loner; he hardly talks to anyone, he’s got two friends, Sam and Steve, who he sees maybe once a week for drinks, but that’s it.

On a Friday night, you snap: you have to have him.

***

Bucky is in the middle of taking a sip of beer, watching Sam and Steve laugh at his deadpan joke, when he gets a notification on his phone. It’s a specific sound he has just for the cameras in his house, tells the guys it’s security, and they get it, they think Bucky is a little paranoid from his past, but if anything, his past makes him more comfortable to being exposed to attack, he knows he can take them, and no one with half a brain cell would try a serious-looking well-built man.

He manages to excuse himself for the night, but not without a little protest from Steve and Sam. To get out of explaining himself, he places money on the table for the men to get another round on him, and they cheer as he exits the bar.

Outside in the dark, he opens the app and turns his phone landscape to swipe through the multiple cameras set up in his house to get to the one where you are. Of course you’re in his bedroom; he’s noticed you’ve been stealing some of his clothes, once even a pair of his boxers, and so he moved your stuff to a better hiding spot. From watching you, it didn’t even seem like you noticed your things going missing, that or you didn’t care, but he knew you weren’t as attentive as you thought. Once he literally followed you in his car just to see how far he could go and you didn’t pay it any mind, walking through your neighbourhood as normal—though, granted, you did have your earphones in.

Excitement ripples down Bucky’s spine and he can’t help but smile at the screen as he notices you ducking behind his bed. Really? Behind his bed? Not even in the closet? He bites his lip to prevent himself from laughing, but not in a malicious way, in an adoring way, that you really are committed to this, but not as committed as he is. He’s seen the chloroform, baseball bat and ropes you bought, you’ve been planning it for a little, but nothing could prepare you for him.

He has to stop himself from full on sprinting down the road to get back home. He does to want to show up sweaty and panting, so he tries with all his might to make it casual stroll. He makes sure to slam the front door behind him so you know he’s here, and he sighs loudly as he shrugs off his jacket before tossing it onto the couch. Maybe it’ll spook you too much if he went straight to his bedroom, so he goes to the bathroom first to freshen up a bit, give you time to really think this through, maybe you’ll change your mind. Not that he’ll change his.

His bedroom door is closed, which he finds a little cute because he knows he left it slightly ajar, but you didn’t really take that into consideration. When he enters, he turns to close the door behind him, giving you time to sneak up and hit him over the head with a bat.

He falls, pretends he’s been knocked out, as if a bat could take him out; he’s been punched through walls and barely flinched before getting back up to fight. It takes a lot in him to stop himself from smiling as he feels you lift him from under his armpits and drag him onto the bed. It takes a bit, but once he’s lying down, you puff out a breath and wipe your brows; that was a bit of a workout for you, but for him… how easy it would be to manhandle you.

He hears you shuffling and feels harsh rope chafe against his skin as you wrap a piece around his ankle, not nearly tight enough, and he thinks it’s because you don’t want to hurt him, which is sweet. You’re just so sweet.

Once you’ve ‘secured’ his ankles and wrists, he waits a few moments before he pretends to stir, coming to consciousness. He puts on a confused and scared look as he notices you at the edge of the bed, as if he hasn’t been dreaming about this for the longest time. As soon as your eyes meet his, he can hear the near whisper, swoon-like sigh you give. Bucky has never considered himself too attractive, doesn’t pay much mind when someone is attracted to him, neither gives him an ego boost or knocks him down a notch, but you, the way you’re so affected by his presence has his heart rate picking up.

“You’re just so beautiful,” you breathe, “Bucky.”

Bucky tightens his fists to prevent himself groaning at the sound of his name falling from your lips, and he’s struggling even more now to restrain himself, wanting to fuck you so hard that’s all you can say, just broken sobs of his name as you come over and over, legs trembling around his waist…

“I’m sorry,” you apologise as you stand.

The corner of his lip twitches, and he can tell you’ve noticed, but that scared face he’s putting on for your benefit quickly takes over his expression as you climb over him. He wants to beg you to stop, maybe give you a little more time to feel in control, but it’s been a while now, and he can’t help the chuckle that slips past his smiling lips.

You look up from his crotch to see him full-on laughing now, not necessarily deranged, but laughing like you’ve told him a genuinely funny joke. You sit back on him carefully as you watch this odd behaviour, that really unsettles you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologies, still with a smile on his face as he shakes his head, “It’s just… come on, now. You’re adorable, but what is this, amateur hour?”

You don’t really have time to take in his giggly response to being ostensibly held captive before he easily pulls himself free of the restraints. You gasp and grab hold of his waist as he grabs hold of your hips, easily pinning you underneath him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Trying to contain his amusement, he drops his head to hide his smile, but can’t hide it away again when he looks back down at you.

“Two weeks?” he breaths over you, his tone not mocking, but near incredulous, “Try two months, sweetheart. I’ve seen your internal conflict, knowing what you were doing is wrong but not being able to stop, huh?”

He raises an eyebrow with his question and you gulp and look down from his eyes to through his legs.

“Where do you think all your shit’s being going? Things don’t just disappear, touches aren’t always just dreams. And listen,” he brings a hand up from your waist to gently tap your cheek, signalling for you to look back at him, and you do, “I’ve enjoyed playing this little game with you, but I’ve been waiting too long for this now to let you have all the fun.”

You gasp as he ducks his head to press a gentle yet possessing kiss to your neck, grasping onto his hair to keep his mouth against your pulse. He smiles against you, and you take a deep breath in as you turn your head to allow him more space, gently tugging him downwards as you listen to his soft kisses and feel the loving stroke of his fingers on your inner thigh. His gentleness soon turns a little more rushed, like he’s desperate; he lets out a choked groan as he grinds his tightening jeans against your thigh, which you return with a moan of your own, pulling his head from your neck which he at first tries to fight, so lost in the taste of your skin, the quickening rise and fall of your chest against his, your sighs of his name, but he reluctantly pulls away, only to be immediately pulled down to your face as you crash your lips against his. He can tell you’re eager by the way you shift your thighs every once in a while, but he knows there’s fear in the trembling fingers that hold him against you.

Once his tongue slides into your mouth, you know it’s over, unable to stop yourself from draping your arm over his neck so he’s as close to you as possible.

“Bucky…” you moan against his mouth, rolling your hips against him.

“Fuck,” he rasps.

You desperately claw at the waistband of his jeans, and he smiles as he pulls away and sits up to take in your flushed cheeks; he’s hardly touched you and you’re already pleading, “Please, please, please.” He’s sure by now the only words you can get out are ‘fuck,’ ‘please,’ or ‘Bucky,’ and he can’t quite decide which is his favourite one… Definitely his name.

“It’s coming, sweetheart,” he says as he undoes his belt, “Hold on.”

It’s no task for him to pull off your pants as you arch your hips, and he really can’t help but smirk to himself as he notices the dark patch on your underwear when he slides it off next.

He props himself up as he slowly pushes into you, grunting at how good you feel. You moan and Bucky rewards the sweet sound by hiking up your thigh to hit you deeper. You cry out as he bottoms inside you, digging your nails into his back and squeezing your eyes shut, cunt tightening around him, too.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as he pulls back and pushes into you again. Your hands move to grasp onto his shoulders, and if you’re pushing him off, he doesn’t notice it, letting out a whimper when he hits your spot again, your fingers grasping onto him for dear life.

He tried to keep slow, but he hurries a little, fucking addicted to feeling you, so lost he’s letting pathetic noises fall from his lips as he pushes into you each time, making sure to give praises of, “Fuck, that’s good, you’re so good, fuck,” between harsh breaths, and you can reply with nothing but whines and moans under him.

When he feels your legs begin to tremble, he pulls the one over his waist further back, hitting you even deeper, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head, and this time he feels your nails break into his skin.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” is all you can get out as he hovers over you.

“You gonna come, sweetheart? You can do that, fuck, please, please come for me.”

If the feeling of his cock wasn’t enough to drive you over the edge, his pleads and whines do it; you let out a broken sob of his name as you clench down on him, orgasm ripping through you better than in all your fantasies.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, that’s good, ‘m gonna come in you now, okay?”

And it doesn’t take long, a few more thrusts and he releases himself inside of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a long groan of your name. When his breathing has slowed slightly, he raises himself to look down at you, and he doesn’t think he could deny himself another round, whether you want it or not.

✪

[taglist; @cjand10, @pr30087, fill out this form if you’d like to be added!]

[honey-beann]

This is a weird way to come back into writing fics again, but here's a very vaguely edited fic that I wrote a while back to get me back into the groove of posting. I hope you like sick reader x snarky bastard fics lol.

Thoroughly Analyzed (rk900 x reader)

Word Count: 1,005

"Oh fuck off, Gavin, I'm not sick!"

You all but sputtered, your cheeks dusted a light pink as you stood in front of your friend and coworker's desk, arms crossed and hip cocked to the side while you eyed him with as much disdain as you could muster.

"Are you being serious, dumb ass? You babysat Chris' kid while it had the flu four days ago, and now you're drinking tea and popping cough drops at your desk like it's your job. Just admit you were an idiot and go home."

You scoffed, glaring at Gavin as you moved away to sit down in your desk chair before turning it to face him once more.

"It wasn't a bad idea for me to babysit the kid, Reed, and I definitely did not get sick because of an eighteen month old child. Now do you have anything of substance to say, or can I finally get back to work?"

You watched as Gavin rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly under his breath as he turned his attention back to his monitor,

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say, loser. Good luck nursing yourself back to health without taking a day off work."

Fighting the urge to flip off your coworker, you instead turned your gaze towards your own monitor, only to find yourself looking right above it and into the eyes of your department's rk900 model android, who had long since been dubbed 'Nines'.

You swallowed thickly, wincing shortly thereafter at the pain that action caused within your throat before catching yourself and forcing a polite smile,

"Hey Nines, what's up?"

You asked as casually as you could manage, watching as the android in question raised a brow before motioning towards Gavin, who had started watching your interaction the moment you'd spoken aloud.

You shrugged, trying not to pay your human coworker too much mind as you cleared your throat again awkwardly before attempting to speak once more, though your voice did sound notably strained this time,

"Reed told me last week that babysitting Chris' kid while he was sick was a bad idea because it was sure to get me sick too. I told him that my body was strong enough to fight off whatever an eighteen month old had, and he bet me twenty bucks that I'd be too sick to come to work within the week. That was four days ago, and now he's doing his best to convince me to go home since he's gotten it in his head that I caught the flu from the kid."

Nines' gaze was cold and stern as he stood, his arms crossed as he took a step closer,

"Did you?"

He asked, and you allowed yourself a moment to get lost in said gaze, however cold it may have been, before snapping out of it, remembering your promise to keep things professional at work.

Wouldn't want anyone catching on, after all.

"Wha- no, of course I didn't."

You sputtered nervously, hearing Gavin chuckle as he watched you from his seat, clearly amused and more than a little entertained.

"Are you sure about that, Detective?"

Nines pressed, taking another two steps closer to where you were sitting as he watched you calmly, a slight smirk making its way to his lips all the while.

"Because I have noticed a bit of a drop in your performance throughout the past two days, and it is part of policy that sick employees remain at home for necessary rest."

You shivered at the sound of Nines' voice, but did your best to play it cool despite your physical reaction to his now significantly closer presence.

"I-I'm fine I promise. I think I've just been a little tired, is all..."

You trailed off as the android in question moved to stand directly beside you, his hand falling to the back of your chair and turning it in his direction, thus forcing you to face him head on as he gazed down at you intently, that smirk remaining all the while.

"Oh really? Well, if you're just tired, I don't suppose you'd mind a routine test of your health?"

"A routine test of my health? No but what exactly-"

You were cut off by a pair of familiar lips crashing into yours as an equally familiar hand moved to cup your chin, tilting your face upward as you gasped into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed against your will. You remained this way for several seconds, until finally, Nines pulled away, humming as he looked down at you with both amusement and exasperation evident in his expression,

"According to my analysis of your saliva, you are suffering from the common flu, detective. Please gather your things and allow me to bring you home. I will inform the captain of our absence."

Unable to argue, you nodded meekly, your hand briefly raising to touch your subtly bruised lips before you snapped out of it and hurried to get your things together, trying desperately to ignore Gavin's shocked expression all the while.

Nines, on the other hand, seemed eager to bask in your shared coworker's surprise, and was in no apparent rush to leave, gathering his own belongings with the swift and relaxed ease that seemed to come so naturally to him.

Once everything was together, however, he made no effort to poke at Gavin further, simply guiding you by your elbow to the door as Reed began to follow suit, sputtering various questions, most of which were nonsensical and jumbled.

Eventually though, as the front door loomed before the two of you, Nines did stop and turn towards the man, his lips twitching upward ever so slightly as he smoothly withdrew his wallet from his pocket before reaching into it, his gaze never leaving Gavin's all the while.

"Oh, and thank you for your concern for my partner's well being, Detective Reed."

He said cheekily as he handed the man in question a twenty dollar bill before exiting the building entirely with you at his side.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Breathe through it ❞

Touya Todoroki x ftm!reader x Tomura Shigaraki | Taishiro Toyomitsu x ftm!reader x Shota Aizawa| AU, Dabi & Tomura works as a body piercer & tattoo artist | nsfw, smut, p**n with plot | sub. bttm. reader | wc: 4k

warnings: dub. con. (the reader is mostly being a brat), daddy kink, d. penetration (one hole), overstimulation, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick though)

masterlist: pt1; pt2; pt3

They want you without the commitment, so you decide to show them the roster full of people you could choose from.

There's an incessant buzzing on your bed. The screen of your phone lights up with 'Dick for Brains' as the caller ID and you watch as it eventually fades, casually drying off the nape of your neck as the wisps of steam from your bathroom whisper against the small of your back. The screen lights up again. You roll your eyes, reaching down to turn it over. You drop the towel around your waist onto the floor, stepping over the puddle of cloth to open your closet doors. Standing there in all your naked glory, you begin humming as you eye the array of clothing before you. A ruffle of fur brushes your fingers and you fight a scowl as you realize what jacket it was. "Fuck them" you mutter distastefully "Treating me like I'm some goddamn prostitute". You rummage with sudden vigour, reaching for your neglected articles of clothing.

You, out of all people, should know that when it came to fuckboys there's no time to feel regret at their lack of commitment. Most would call you a variation of a fuckboy yourself - though you don't regret being your flirtatious self, ever. You were transparent in your disinterest in a relationship (with someone you weren't attracted to outside of the bedroom). But Dabi and Tomura? They were slutty fucking bastards. Perhaps they knew how well you could fit into their lives, which scared them. It didn't take a genius to know the two of them had a particularly strong case of abandonment issues. Anyone could claim you were being an armchair psychologist but the way they act has you itching to make an appointment with a therapist. Conniving, shitty, man-children. It was one thing to turn your less-than-innocent rendezvous into just...three dudes hanging out (truly, your standards had lowered because why did Dabi and Tomura sharing food with you make your heart race when they've swapped cum in your mouth?). It was another to chase off potential bedmates from you when you three were out in a club — of which prior, you had expressed your annoyance at their want to have you exclusively while they had more flings.

A sheer material flutters by your knuckles. When you pull the garment out it's a beautiful, oversized, button-up shirt. The cutting of the shirt was nothing special, however, the design was breathtaking. Holding it up to the light, you chew on your lower lip with a gleeful twinkle in your eyes. It was see-through though the darker colour of the design was meant to mimic a cinched waist while the outer lavender hue nearly disappeared in the light. You lay it down on your bed, grab your still buzzing phone and reject the call from 'Daddy Issues Central' before calling up your friends. "Well, well, well".

You land on your bed with an 'oomph' stroking the chosen top with a giggle pouring from your lips. "Look who came crawling back, your new boy toys finally bored you?" "Something like that" Your bed creaks as you roll onto your back, touching your lobes as you ponder which piercings to decorate it with. A thrum of musing came from the phone.

"They lasted a while, did they shatter when you left? I need details" they sang and from the sound of movement, you figured they were getting ready as well. "Haven't dropped them" Your sigh makes the sounds halt then a series of 'nonono'. They groaned, "God - (Y/N), don't tell me this is going to be another repeat of Mirai Sasa- whatever the fuck that guy's name was". "He wasn't that bad" you defended. "He quite literally got on his knees and begged for you to 'return back to your rightful future' with him" They shift the phone from their hand to their shoulder and your giggle makes them snort. "Trust me, these guys are not the grovelling type" an idea of a full outfit pops into your head. Raising from the bed, you bounce towards your closet. "Where are you going?" you ask. "Why are you assuming I'm going out?" "It's a Saturday night and you," a grunt leaves your lips as you toss a pair of unworthy shorts over your shoulder, "Just posted something about your boss' son getting the promotion you wanted on your Instagram story". "...Fine, I'm going to the Boy Toy Club in like 25 fucking minutes. You think you can get all dolled up in time, (Y/N)?" Your chuckle makes them roll their eyes fondly. "30 minutes? Pleaseee" "You better be glad I fucking love you". "Who fucking doesn't?" your friend groans and you end the call with a smile. Though it disappears as Dabi's calling you for what feels like the 500th fucking time. "Ugh".

Tomura's seen Dabi irritated before. Despite his cool-headedness, he knows better than anyone that underneath is a simmering beast that bares its teeth at the slightest provocation.

Right now, Dabi's lower jaw is jutted forward and Tomura sees his cheeks being sucked in as he chews on it, brows centred and hooding his eyes with a brewing storm. Tomura doesn't fare any better. He's been scratching at his neck, sighs of displeasure escaping him while he bounces a knee. The store had long closed, the humming of the AC muffling the men's obvious annoyance as it thickens in the air. "You pissed him off" Tomura accuses "He was the perfect fucking lay and your stupid mouth pissed him off!"

"Oh, can it, Shiggy!" Dabi warned, pushing himself off the couch and running his fingers through his hair. "They're other sluts, other 'perfect lays' Just get the fuck up and wear your jacket" Tomura's face scrunches in an incredulous expression as he throws his hands in the air. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" "It means we're going to a club, dick for brains" Dabi has his leather jacket over his shoulders, Tomura's jacket in his hand while the other was holding a box of cigarettes and a lighter. "You're a loser but you're still handsome" Tomura mocks him under his breath, eyes settling into a glare as Dabi holds firmly onto his chin to tilt his head up. Blue eyes flicker to his crotch and Tomura shoves Dabi away with his palm against his navel. "Cock's nice too - there'll be bitches slobbering all over it so come on." He turns to the entrance, lighting the cigarette and shouldering the door open while Tomura bounces the store's keys in one hand and slips the other in the arm of his jacket. "You're drivin' us there, we don't need him".

Dabi's sorely mistaken. Tomura's pressed against his side, cock being pleasured by a hand that's not yours while Dabi's was in a mouth that was, also, not yours. The only thing that was keeping both of them hard was the fact they were shoving each other's tongues down their throats.

"Shit" he hears Tomura hiss, peeking his eyes open to see him push the redhead away from his side. "What the fuck, dude?!" he exclaims. Tomura pants, pulling away from Dabi to stuff his dick back in his pants. "Who the fuck taught you how to give handjobs? A sheet of sandpaper?" Tomura sneered, making Dabi groan as he shoved the guy sucking his dick off, though keeping him drunk on its taste by letting their lips hover by the side with his thigh cushioning his cheek. "Fuck you, I've been jerking you off for 15 minutes — It's not my fault your dicks are broken!" Tomura tells him to fuck off and they do with a string of curses. Dabi taps the one on his lap, earning hazy eyes looking oh-so-sweetly at him. The problem is, they're not that fiery (E/C) colour framed by your pretty lashes and further complimented by your eyebrow shape that Dabi somehow finds attractive. As he looks at the tongue peeking out from lips that aren't yours he clicks his tongue at the lack of metal that's supposed to be there. "Get off" he pushes them onto the floor and Tomura only half-pities them as they yelp, wiping their wet lips and watching as Dabi coldly walks over them and towards the wall of windows. Seeing as Dabi's a regular and one that pays well, he's given privileges. These rooms, with a wall of windows that face each other in a circle and overlook the lower level of the dance floors, were a privilege he'd been given.

Tomura grabs the bottle of champagne and drinks a mouthful. They (Dabi) had been gifted this for free due to his long absence. The pale-haired man pretended not to see Dabi's cheek twitching while he suppressed the bitter taste of regret. The man leaves, scampering almost, and the only sounds left are the muffled bass of the song playing below. Tomura raises to stand next to Dabi who takes the bottle from his hand. "Your dick's still out" he comments. "So?" Tomura observes the clear views of the other VIP rooms around them. He sees bodies, bodies, bodies in all sorts of positions and if the lights weren't constantly shifting or so dim, he was sure they'd be able to lip-read their throes of pleasure.

"...Admit it" Tomura grunts. "You first" Dabi replies. "He put a fucking spell on our dicks" Dabi's eyes roll so far back it threatens to lose those striking blues. "M'not fuckin' joking. That boy sucking your dick was your exact type and you couldn't even get it up if I didn't suck you off first" Dabi turns to Tomura, whose brows are cocked up righteously. "That redhead was your type too, rubbed you fucking raw and for nothing". They stared at each other in silence but Tomura inched closer and soon their kissing. It turns steamier, with his pierced nipples now against the window as Dabi kicks his ankles apart.

This is good, this is great. They're familiar with each other, an unspoken bond stitching their lives together in a way that could never be undone. Both wouldn't say it but only because the words boyfriends didn't quite fit the bill — they were more. They didn't need others. Not in a way that would last. It just complicated things in the long run — so they'd have flings (the other fully knowing) and share their flings but never had trouble falling back into sync. Their sex was great. Their jagged pieces just fit. So Tomura groans and grasps at the smooth glass as Dabi's pierced dick finds a home inside of him. He lets his breath fogs the glass up, arches his back to meet Dabi halfway in his thrusts and kisses Dabi when he feels his breath on his cheek. But his dick only twitches when his red eyes catch the sight of you. You. You were across from them, in the same pose as Tomura was and in the same room but instead of Dabi behind you, it's a blondie with yellow eyes and a considerable size difference to you. He goddamn towers over you and with the way your eyes are squeezed shut he knows his dick is splitting you open just right. Another shadow lurks behind you and this time a guy with long black hair comes to your side, kneeling as he ties his hair into a bun and Tomura's tongue envies his when your eyes shoot open from his mouth. "You're distracted" Dabi gruffs, nibbling at Tomura's ear so he reaches to grab a fistful of Dabi's hair to let his eyes focus on you. His dick twitches inside of him. "Fuck" they moan.

They need you.

"Fuck, you're so fucking big," Taishiro chuckles at your whining which turns into a silent scream as Shota sucks your dick. Taishiro can feel Shota's fingers rubbing on whatever parts of his dick that still isn't sheathed inside of your writhing body. You've always known your body and soul were greedy creatures. A pair of hands weren't enough. You needed more love bites, more bruises; just more moremoremore — As Shota pushes the hood of your dick back to blow his hot breath on it your thighs twitch and Taishiro inches more of him inside of you. This is exactly what you need. These two were ever attentive — courteous despite the less-than-innocent club they were at. The cologne they had smelled expensive, and the watches they wore confirmed it.

You'd hit the jack-pot.

Taishiro and Shota were making you see stars with every flutter of your eyes. The sheer material of your top was now pushed up and bunched by Taishiro's fist as he used it to bring you back towards his hips. "Just like that, baby".

Shota whispers, voice deliciously gravely as he looks at you with his gunmetal grey eyes. It slips out of your moan before you can stop yourself.

"Dabi" Taishiro pauses as he thrusts in while Shota cocks a brow from below you.

"T-Tomura" your eyes are hazy, Shota recognizes it even if you try your hardest to ground back to them. Taishiro pulls out and your knees buckle. His large hands hold you up while Shota stands so you can lean on his chest, gently stroking your hair out of your face as you babble on his shirt.

"Why", you gulp as your thoughts finally slither between your ears. Peeking up at Shota you frown, then turn to look at Taishiro whose offering you a glass of cold water. "Why'd you stop?" Shota presses the rim of the glass to your lips and you petulantly gulp it down. Your legs were still shaky so Taishiro effortlessly picks you up so you could sit on the seats instead.

Between that and here, mortification runs down your spine like ice. You curse, hiding your face in your hands as you curl in on yourself.

"Fuck, I'm really — I'm really sorry, guys" Taishiro rubs your shoulder, his sunny smile making guilt swallow you whole. This was a guy that would actually take care of you. Not lead you on with false expectations or monopolize you.

"Don't sweat it," Shota says as he wipes his mouth with the napkins in the room. Look at him, so reliable. So...responsible. Those broad shoulders were more than just for show.

These two would've made every worry you had to fade off. Probably spoil you rotten — but you don't feel anything with them.

You craved sweltering heat, the taste of metal in your mouth and on your skin - calloused, inked, hands and red-rimmed eyes staring you down.

You craved for those assholes.

"Exes?" Taishiro asks as you huff and try to calm your racing heart. "No, I guess? I dunno!" He offers you a grimace and fixes the wrinkles on your shirt while Shota gives you another glass of cold water.

"I really am sorry" Taishiro assures you but the knock on the door makes all three of your heads turn. Shota wonders if either of you had ordered another bottle of champagne but the dubious looks in everyone's eyes make him stand to open the door — he was the only one still fully clothed after all.

"Can I help you?" You're squeezing into your pants when Tomura's voice echoes.

"(Y/N), is he here? Just need to...talk to him" Shota's grey eyes ask you a silent question but you nod and stand so he opens the door wider.

Dabi's leaning on the wall across the door. Moody, disgruntled and cock so hard the tent in his pants casts a shadow on the leather. His arms are crossed over his chest, his biceps on display.

Tomura's half-dressed. Their shirt falls off one shoulder as his low-waisted jeans unabashedly show the happy trail he has. His messy hair is somehow even messier, his red eyes hungry.

"...Hey, baby" you could almost cringe at Tomura's words. You offer Taishiro a kiss on his cheek along with Shota as a way to ease them and thank them for your failed rendezvous.

The act has Dabi and Tomura's brow twitch.

The door closes behind you, The three of you stand in the hallway — tense.

A guy stumbles on the three of you, the drunken giggles die as he eyes you before he bursts into another fit as he stumbles past. Embarrassment dust on your face and you sigh, scratching the back of your neck in irritation. "What the hell do you want?" Tomura replies; "Those two made you cum pretty fast, huh? Or did they even manage to?"

His eyes widen as you snarl in his face, looking equally as handsome as you were scary. "Ugh! Why do I even give you two the opportunity to try and be anything but a dick!" taken aback, Tomura blinks as you shove him back before turning on your heels to stomp away.

Dabi grips your wrist and your yell gets swallowed by his lips. Tomura watches as he wrestles you to the wall, cushioning the slam with his body as he grabs onto your wrists to keep them from smacking Dabi.

"You — Mphf! Motherfuckers!" you mumble between the kissing, breath hitching as Tomura's lips trace your neck. Your hips buck between theirs and since Dabi's are free he grips your waist and spreads your ankles apart to put his knee right between your legs. The friction it creates has your heart racing all over again.

"Tomura" you whisper, head tilted back to let his pierced tongue in your mouth. You squeeze your eyes closed, hoping to push away that whisper of floating off to pleasure so you could at least show them that you weren't easy.

But all that resolve disappears when Tomura's hands sneak to unbutton your pants and Dabi's unzipping them. Their inked hands working in tandem, like a well-oiled fuck machine intent on making you lose all your senses in the goddamn hallway of a gay club.

"Daddy's got ya'" Dabi groans as he feels your wetness drip on his fingers. "Ain't that right, Shiggy?" Tomura mumbles that Dabi's daddy kink is dumb but unbuttons your shirt next.

"Yeah, yeah, daddy's got you, baby" Tomura plays along anyways. You would scoff in his face at his denial that he was totally into the kink himself but he's tweaking your nipples between his fingers and you're feeling your eyes roll back as your back arches away from Tomura but into Dabi.

He's between feeling impressed and annoyed at how easy you take three of his fingers. You can see it in the way he licks his teeth —

"Taishiro...fuck, his dick is so big, Daddy". It makes Dabi's eyes shine brightly under the dim lights. He's staring at you from his furrowed brows and Tomura grumbles as his magenta eyes glow in jealousy.

No — not jealousy. Envy?

Not quite, you think (how you manage to do that surprises even yourself) but something more primal.

Dabi slips another finger in and you sigh, breath hitching as Tomura's pierced tongue trails spit down your neck.

"Left me gaping, Shota made me so fuckin' wet too — He's so fuckin' good with his tongue".

Dabi is quiet "Couldn't fit him all the way but Shota helped - Ah, oh fuck, Daddy" Tomura's cupping your chest in his hands and grinding his hard-on on your ass.

"They felt so good" you groan.

When Tomura clicks his tongue and switches you around to face him you finally put a word on the emotions in their eyes.

Possessiveness.

"Yeah? They felt good, baby?" Tomura is forcing your jaw open with his hand and Dabi is pulling your pants down. Drool is slipping past your smudged lips and Tomura thinks you look like some sort of modern art piece.

A modern day Achilles or something.

"They did such a good job making this cunt ready for us, Daddy," Dabi says to Tomura as he pulls out his cock, leaning down to grab your leg and lifting it to the side, and thrusts his hip forward which makes yours jerk forward.

Glistening cunt twitching and inviting.

"Both of us could fit no trouble," Your eyes widen at the very idea but before you could speak Dabi's filling you up and all you manage is a whorish yelp.

Tomura watches as Dabi unbuttons his pants, moaning out his name as he strokes his hard cock then adjusts his stance as Dabi lines up his dick to your sopping cunt.

"Rub his dick a little," Dabi chuckles but complies as he rubs Tomura's cockhead to your dick which makes you shudder.

When Tomura does slip in, tears prick your eyes. Dabi shushes you as you whine and try to move your hips away. He rubs your swollen dick while Tomura licks your tears away.

"Don't hold your breath" he grunts. "Breathe through it, yeah, that's it — S'fucking beautiful".

The pressure of them inside you has your thighs twitching.

Anyone could walk in on you. Could just see you taking their dicks like some sort of sex toy with diamond tears running down your cheeks just like the slick running between your thighs.

"Feel us here, (Y/N)?" Tomura asks as he presses on your navel but you're too gone to respond. Your eyes are blanketed with nothing but pleasure and sin leaking from them.

"Daddy" Dabi calls out, hips shifting. He's calling for Tomura, calling him daddy as he tells him to set the pace.

Footsteps briefly register in your head, and a few startled gasps come from the group of men that walked in. They speak, laugh, probably leer even but you're just angry that their cocks make you feel this fucking good.

Taishiro had made you feel good — his dick was huge.

Shota's tongue and fingers that worked you open for Taishiro had made you nearly rip his hair from his scalp.

But Dabi and Tomura?

"Fuck!" you moan as Dabi thrusts into you. He's talking to the group of men walking past, panting through his words but that asshole has the gall to act as if he wasn't fucking you within an inch of your life.

Why was that so hot?

As Tomura's dick slides in, Dabi's pulls out - a steady but harsh rhythm that has your cunt fluttering and your brain fogging even more.

The men walk past, laughing as they give you a last glance. Somehow, their thrusting gets harsher as Dabi lifts you off your feet while Tomura spits on your cunt and rubs circles on your dick.

"Cuh-Cummin'! M'cumming! I'm - Ah! Shit! Shitshitshit" Tomura muffles your cries by kissing you, sucking on your tongue while Dabi's thighs tense as he shoots thick ropes of cum inside of you. Tomura is not far behind, the patch of pubic hair flushed against you as he catches his breath.

They carried you from the hallway. Your ragged breathing was the only thing being shared safe from a few murmurs of 'you alright?' the few seconds after they came.

You're in their private room now, sweat making your clothes absolutely disgusting against your skin. Thankfully, Dabi's there to strip you and Tomura's naked body is between your legs just as he's done.

"Wha —" you throw your head back as Tomura's mouth is licking the globs of cum escaping your abused cunt, squealing as he teases your asshole with his tongue. "Daddy!' Tomura hums, barely paying attention as he makes sure to erase any trace of that Shota-whatever the fuck his name is - from his hole.

"Daddy!" Dabi answers this time, somehow always knowing who you're actually calling just from the way you whine so there's no confusion.

"He's makin' you feel good?"

"Too muchhh" You try to push Tomura's head away but Dabi shushes you and holds your wrist to pin them on his naked thigh and makes you grasp onto his pierced dick.

"Our good boy can take it — If his daddies say he can, he can, right?" You sob but merely squeeze your eyes as Tomura's tongue piercing teases your dick.

"Missed our baby so much" Tomura pants out, licking his lips as he stares at your winking hole.

"Mhm, never gonna let him go...he's all ours now". Your fiery (E/C) eyes look up at Dabi so sweetly as he speaks despite how your sinful hand is teasing his cockhead like a true professional.

"All yours? Promi — Fuccck" Dabi chuckles as Tomura meanly sucks on your dick but nods, leaning down to kiss you.

"Promise, baby." He reaches to interlace his fingers with Tomura with one hand while Tomura does the same with your empty hand.

"All ours baby".

The sensor going off tells you that you should get off of Dabi's lap and greet the customer but he tightens his grip which makes you roll your eyes.

"Shiggy!" he's in the break room but responds with a 'I got it!'

He peeks in the room as he passes by, shaking his head at the sight of your boyfriend, Dabi, sketching on his iPad with you in his lap. "He's making a tattoo design for us" you muse as you reach for your boyfriend, Tomura, to plant a kiss on his lips.

"He sucks at that — I can do it better" and although it is true, the evidence quite literally on Dabi's skin, Dabi scoffs haughtily.

"Shut the fuck up and see who walked in" Tomura does so but not without an eye-roll.

He greets the customers but freezes as his eyes land on their figures.

Taishiro and Shota's eyes widen as well.

"Oh," Taishiro says. The sound of giggles comes from the hallway and suddenly Dabi and you are spilling into the room as well.

Taishiro and Shota couldn't hide the way their eyes look you over as they drink you in. They couldn't forget about you — they could hear every moan and squelch from your impromptu fucking in the hallway right in front of the door of their room.

All five of you shuffle a bit, cheeks warm.

Dabi chuckles and everyone's eyes are on him.

"We could flip the Open sign to Close and get to know each other better" he purred and you squeeze your thighs together as all eyes land on you.

Oh fuck.

[silvervioletvalentine]

❣️!Oh no, I’ve fallen in love again!❣️

Pairing : Daniel ricciardo X femOC (Cherrie!)

Word count : 8.1k

Summary : in which a three year old becomes Daniels wingman.

The beaming smile that took over Daniels face could surely be seen from all the way on the other side of the paddock as he sprung up from his seat like a over excited kid, waving his hands around in the air manically as he tried to catch his favourite person in the whole worlds to annoy's attention .

Hearing lando let out a loud , amused laugh behind him .

Not at all surprised by the way he was behaving , not even when he abruptly left his lunch with them in favour of trying to get Cherrie to look at him.

Max merely shook his head at him, smiling to himself as they both watched on with humour as Cherrie completely blanked him and pretended he wasn't there.

There was no way she didn't see the way that Daniel was jumping up and down on his spot as he waved his hands in the air like a lunatic , she was only across the barricade talking with her trainer.

She was doing everything that she could not to look at him, pursing her lips as she stubbornly tried to ignore his obnoxious voice bellowing out to her , making everyone's attention snap between the two of them in entertainment.

Unfortunately for her , this was not a new scene at all. Just another Tuesday of Daniel trying to test her limits and see just how far he could push her before she snapped back.

He would even shamelessly admit that her losing her shit on him was one of his favourites parts of their relationship, a relationship that Cherrie wouldn't even entertain.

Dubbing him nothing but a pain in her ass since the very beginning when Daniel had stubbornly decided to target her as a victim to his affections. Affections that she did not want to be receiving .

But no matter how many times she told the Man to leave her the fuck alone before she dropped kicked him, he simply didn't listen .

Instead Telling her that it would be an honour to be drop kicked by her .

Cherrie had almost strangled him. If it hadn't been for Sebastian dragging her away while laughing at how annoyed she was, then she was certain that a crime would have been committed from her.

Something about him just wound her up like no one else could , he got underneath her skin so badly that even the sight of his beaming face made her want to run away and hide.

He lived to annoy the ever lasting fuck out of her and she couldn't stand it!

She already had one kid of her own, she didn't need to be dealing with another man child on top of that.

"Cherrieeeeeeee!" Daniel screamed loudly again , not losing his grin despite the fact that he could clearly see her roll her eyes at him and mutter something to her trainer , no doubt calling him a stupid idiot like she usually did whenever he did this to her.

Which was most days whenever he finally managed to catch up with her .

Daniel found that she could be a real fantastic hide and seek player if she wanted to. Because sometimes when he came around she just , poof! Disappeared like magic .

It was quite impressive really. The determination that she had to avoid him, as though his own stubbornness wouldn't prevail and make him find her just as quick.

Lando snorted from behind him, laughing. "Are you ever gonna give up man? It's getting a little pathetic to see you chasing her all around the grid while she runs away from you ." He informed him amusedly , sharing a look with Max who was trying to tug at the back of Daniels shirt to get him to sit back down.

Daniel just grinned and batted his hand off him , shaking his head as he lifted his hand over his eyes so that he could see her better as the sun beamed down on them.

"Give up? I don't know those two words lando. And why would I give up when it's very clear that she loves me?" He said happily as he blew a kiss in the air towards Cherrie who's face scrunched up in disgust.

Then she smiled brightly back at him.

They all watched as she pretended to catch his flying kiss in her hands , her fake smile dropping just as quickly as it had appeared before she then proceeded to drop his flying kiss on the floor and stomp all over it  with her boot.

Then she stuck up both her middle fingers at him before turning her back on him again.

Daniel tilted his head a little sheepishly as he glanced at his friends disbelieving expressions.

"I never said that she loved me openly . She loves me.." he insisted confidently "just secretly." He told them.

Max laughed so hard he almost choked on his drink, patting his friend on the back sympathetically.

"Yeah so secretly that it doesn't even exist! She can't stand you! Why do you keep pushing this?" He wanted to know , genuinely curious to why he wouldn't give up on a woman that did nothing but reject him , brutally . Over and over again.

It was getting hard to watch. Yet it only baffled them further the way that Daniel never gave up. Instead each crushing rejection only seemed to make him more determined to get her to like him back.

Lando nodded his head in agreement to Max's words , squinting his eyes at him in confusion.

"Yeah he's right. There's plenty of other girls that wouldn't hesitate to go out with you!" He reminded him , smiling .

Their friend was a shining ball of happiness and everywhere that he went , people wanted to know him or be his friend.

He was a walking sunshine and yet the one girl that he just couldn't get over was ... midnight rain. A thunderstorm, lightning - a absolute negative Nancy.

They couldn't have been any more different if they tried. Where Daniel smiled, Cherrie scowled.

Where Daniel laughed, Cherrie scoffed. Where he spread compliments and hope, Cherrie spat insults and squashed any hope that lingered with bluntness, she didn't sugar coat anything at all.

She was intimidating as fuck too. She walked around with the aura of someone that wouldn't hesitate to de-kneecap you if you tried to pull any shit on her.

She barely smiled unless she had her kid with her, and even her kid was a little mini version of her .

They had never seen a three year old with such mean insults before. The toddler just strutted around with the same judgmental look on her face as her mother, it was a little funny to witness.

She just went around repeating whatever Cherrie did, so nothing nice really.

Daniel just pulled face at them "I don't want anybody else . I'm telling you, we're soulmates. She's the ying to my yang and the teeth to my mouth. And the toenail to my toe-" he passionately started to rant to them.

Max cut him off before he could go on and on and on "okay. I think we get it mate." He chuckled, shaking his head at him fondly.

Lando just sighed , feeling sorry for him. "But does she know that she's those things for you? I mean ... she's not exactly very ... keen on you is she?" He tried to put it delicately, but it was a bit difficult to sugarcoat her absolute distaste for him.

She wasn't exactly silent with her hatred for him either. Just like Daniel wasn't at all silent with his infatuation for her.

It was ridiculous.

Daniel just casually shrugged his shoulders "she just doesn't know it yet. But she will.." he determinedly said before jumping over the fence with one jump.

Making his friends roll their eyes at how stubborn he was . Watching the way her trainer nudged Cherrie in the shoulder to alert her of his incoming presence , Cherrie looking over her shoulder with a look that could kill as she scowled at him.

Daniel didn't even flinch, the grin still lighting up his face as he started to jog over to her.

Leaving max and lando to sigh in pity , feeling nothing but second hand embarrassment at their friends behaviour.

"She's going to crush his big heart into tiny little pieces."  Max  stated sadly , shaking his head.

Ever the optimist , lando tried to think positively about it . "Maybe she'll actually come around and grow to love him-" he couldn't even finish his attempt before max shot him a disbelieving look in response .

Lando then sighed "yeah you're right. She's going to break his heart." He pouted a little , feeling sorry for their friends . "Poor Daniel!"

Cherrie huffed to herself as she watched her trainer quickly scuttle away with a apologetic look being left in her direction, clearly not wanting to be involved in the shit show that was about to happen.

Closing her eyes for a moment and wondered why it was always her of all people that Daniel had decided to torture . And why he wouldn't give up, no matter how much of a bitch she was to him.

She was starting to think that there was something clearly wrong with him. Because what kind of idiot smiled in the face of rejection and tried again ... and again and again. Even when they faced the same result?

He had to be insane!

Grimacing a little as she felt his arm land over her shoulders , squeezing her into a quick hug before she could even shake him off.

Squeezing her tightly and even spinning her around a little until she smacked at his arms and yanked him off her.

Glaring at him in Annoyance, shaking her head at him exasperatedly . "Don't you have anybody else you could annoy? I'm busy." She said blandly , checking her phone for a text to see where her assistant had took her daughter to. Already missing her .

Daniel looked around the empty space around her and rose his brow at her blatant lie , before peering over her shoulder nosily to see what she was doing on her phone .

"No. You're my favourite." He muttered honestly bedore grinning excitedly when he  read the reply from her assistant telling her that she had juniper with her in the Ferrari lounge.

"She's here?! I thought she was staying with Matt for the weekend?" He exclaimed happily , mentioning her ex boyfriend and her baby daddy Matt.

You would assume that Daniel would dislike the love of his life's ex boyfriend , most men would be envious and jealous of the closeness that they had because of their shared kid. But not Daniel. Oh no.

Daniel had immediately seeked him out to ask him a hundred and one questions about Cherrie, mainly 'how did you get her to like you?' And a slightly more desperate 'how do I get her to stop hating me?'

They two men had even hung out together whenever they could, Matt sneaking him pictures of Cherrie and juniper together for him. Finding it amusing how love struck the driver was with his ex girlfriend.

It was another thing that wound Cherrie up even further. Unable to believe that Daniel had somehow became best friends with her baby daddy, so much so that when she had went over to pick up her baby from her dads , Daniel had opened the door to matts place with a smug grin on his face .

Her child on his back and both of their faces painted as animals.

She almost had a stroke.

She just couldn't escape him, not matter what she did!

"She wanted to watch me race. And she turns into a little witch if she doesn't get her own way." She muttered , typing out a text to her assistant to tell her that she was coming and to not let her wander off.

It wouldn't have been the first time her curious toddler had ran off without telling anyone where she was going. It happened so often now that Cherrie no longer panicked , instead she would sinply go from one garage to the other until she found juniper , often clinging to the legs of another driver as she demanded for them to let her sit in their car.

Because her child wasn't afraid of anything or anyone.

It was either her way or absolutely no way.

"So an exact replica of you then." Daniel stated in amusement as he started to walk beside her , skipping a little ahead of her so that he could see her face when they talked .

Or when he talked and she reluctantly answered him.

She just huffed at his truthful statement and ignored him.

Daniel pressed on "how was your weekend then? Miss me? Because I missed you!" He shamelessly told her . Grinning at the glare she immediately shot him.

He had quickly learned that any type of feelings other than hatred made her absolutely uncomfortable . She seemed to struggle when any type of positivity or compliments were given her way, as though she had never been given them before and didn't know what to do with them.

So Daniel had made it his mission to give her them every time he saw her. Enjoying the way her cheeks would flush and she would try to hide it from him, but he never missed it .

Not when it came to her, he noticed every little thing about her.

"Well you weren’t in my weekend so it was lovely Daniel. Very quiet and peaceful." She stated bluntly , attempting to trip him up with her foot.

Daniel just jumped over her shoe and laughed , reaching over to ruffle her hair , enjoying the glare she shot him as she quickly tried to flatten her hair again.

"Boring!" Daniel exclaimed tutting at her in mock disapproval .

“You should have went out with me. We could have done something fun together!" He brought up her latest rejection to his date, not at all put off by it.

He would get her to crack even If it was the last thing he did.

Cherrie frowned over at him, pursing her lips in mild annoyance .

“I don't want to date you Daniel. You're not my type." She lied to him. Not even believing herself when she said it.

He was exactly her type but Cherrie had already had her heart broken before. It wasn't just her own heart that she had to guard now, it was her child's too. This wasn't about her .

She just couldn't be having a man around the two of them if he wasn't there to stay, she just couldn't go through it again.

And she liked Daniel. She did. But so did everybody else .

He was the people's sunshine and Cherrie was certain that as soon as she gave into him and he no longer had to play the chase, that he would grow bored with her and move on.

Because she wasn't like he was. She didn't light up a room or laugh for no reason at all. She didn't do adventurous things or having a million friends.

Her life was simple. She woke up in the morning and made her and her baby some food , then she dropped her baby off with her family , then she raced, then she went home. That was it. Nothing fun or exciting .

Nothing like his own life that was full of memory makers and excitement.

She didn't want to bring him down. Didn't want to saddle him with her boring life and the commitments that came with being a mother.

She just wanted the best for him. And Cherrie didn't think that she was it.

Daniel shot her a disbelieving look, waving his hands over himself with a playful scoff.

"So absolutely charming and unbelievably handsome , funny and charastmatic- and super smart isn't your type?" He smirked at her , wiggling his eyebrows at her .

Then he started to lift up his shirt to give her a show "how about these bad boys-" he wiggled his abs at her like he was enticing her in with desert . Tensing them and posing dramatically , giving them a smack just to try and make her laugh.

Cherrie just yanked his shirt back down and rolled her eyes , biting on the inside of her cheek so she didn't break out into a grin. Not wanting to feed into his ego.

"No. I like my men like a library Daniel." She muttered as they got closer to the Ferrari home.

He frowned at her in confusion , pausing for a moment as he looked all over her pretty face for answers. Getting absolutely none .

"Full of books?" He guessed cluelessly. Quickly jogging up to catch up with her again once he noticed her pick up her pace to try and get away from him.

Cherrie snorted at that. "Quiet. I like them to be quiet." She told him with a small smirk , looking over her shoulder at him as she pulled open the door and entered into the back room. "Something you're not."

Daniel looked at her in offence . Ignoring the looks that he was receiving for being in Ferrari hospitality , he swung his arm over her shoulder and nudged their hips together .

"I can be quiet!" He lied.

She knocked his arm off her and give him a pointed look . "Go on then. If you can be quite for five minutes , and I mean completely silent.." she smirked knowingly "then I'll go on a date with you." She told him already knowing that he would fail.

Daniels face lit up , beaming at her. "Really? Great! I can do it. Get ready for the best date of your entire life babe. Cause I'm the king of dates-" he cut him less off as a thought came to mind.

"Wait! When does this challenge start?" He asked her , running his fingers through the ends of her long hair absentmindedly .

Cherrie just smiled smugly "now!" Was all she said before pushing open the door to the room and walking in.

Immediately a high pitched voice reached their ears as juniper jumped down from the couch and bulldozed right into her legs. Almost making her fall over if it wasn't for Daniels hand on her back keep her upright .

"Mummy! Look what I did!" Her little girl exclaimed as she proudly pulled her over to the other side of the room where her racing suit was hung up ready for her to wear .

"I made it pretty!" She told her , beaming up at her proudly.

Cherrie looked at her suit that was now covered in flowers and stick figures, as well as a couple of animals drawn all over the front of it.

Inhaling deeply to remind herself that patience was a virtue and that her daughter only wanted to make her happy.

She plastered on a smile and patted the top of her head gently . Laughing a little "ah- it looks amazing honey. I like the flowers. Very cute." She told her , admiring her artwork with a little bit of mother's pride . Noticing how much better she had gotten at colouring in the lines over the past few weeks.

Then juniper turned and caught sight of Daniel smiling at them, her big eyes rolling as she let out a loud , dramatic groan at the sight of him.

"Oh no mummy! Not him again!" She whined. Just as exasperated with Daniel as her mother was.

Making everyone in the room laugh at the look on Daniels face as he gaped down at juniper in disblief, holding a hand over his heart in mock heartbreak.

"Ouch! How could you say that to the man that took you to the zoo on Saturday! I thought we had fun!" He reminded her with a grin , ruffling her hair as he walked over to them.

Cherries head snapped over to him quickly , wondering if she heard him right.

“You took her to the zoo?!" It was the first time she heard of it .

Daniel just nodded with a casual smile as though it was no big deal.

"yeah. Matt had to take a work call and it was too boring being stuck in the house. Wasn't it?" He directed towards her daughter who had forgotten to mention any of this to her.

Juniper nodded her head , lighting up at the reminder of the fun day she had with him.

"Yeah! I got to see a baboons ass!" She giggled loudly  before side eyeing Daniel judgmentally

"Danny got scared of the lions though! He screamed like a wuss!" She ratted him out without hesitation.

Cherrie let out a laugh despite herself . Trying and failing to give her a stern look.

"We don't say ass. We say butt remember?" She tried to correct her.

Daniel scoffed "yet you say absolutely nothing about her calling me a wuss!" Though he tilted his head with a raise of his brows as he recalled the exact baboon that she was talking about .

"it was a very big, and very colourful ass though. I think I got a picture of it-"

Realising then exactly where she had gotten the word from, she squinted her eyes at Daniel and swatted at his arm before he could pull out his phone and show her pictures of the baboons ass that they had seen.

"Daniel! I knew it was you she got it from-" then she huffed and let out a 'ha!' As she realised something.

Smugly smirking up at him as he glanced down at her in confusion.

"You've already lost the challenge by the way! I knew you couldn't keep quite!" She laughed , proud of herself.

Daniels face dropped, letting out a loud gasp . His eyes going wide as he realised that she was right.

"Nooooo!" He cried out . Placing his hands over his face in annoyance.

“That doesn't count! That's junipers fault!" He then preoceeded to point his finger at the three year old with a accusing frown on his face .

Her daughter just sassily put her hands on her tiny hips and stuck her tongue out at him.

Cherrie laughed and shook her head, waving her finger at him tauntingly . "Nope! This is all on you! You lost so no date!" She High fived her three year old proudly .

Daniel wasn't having it. Raising his brows at the two of theme , he just shrugged and then sighed loudly "fine. Not date then no juniper!" He declared with a grin before reaching forward and picking juniper up, dangling her upside down as he marched towards the door with her.

The toddler giggling hysterically as she waved her hands upside down at everyone "bye! Bye! Mommy!"

Cherrie could only watch in silent disbelief as he disappeared out of the room , watching them through the glass window as he turned her the right way up again. Juniper climbing onto his back instead as they ran away and out of the Ferrari garage without another word.

Looking over to her assistant with wide eyes , she gaped .

“He kidnapped my baby!" She exclaimed bedore side eyeing her giggling team in disbelief.

"And you guys wanted me to go out with him! A baby snatcher!" She scoffed. Smiling a little despite herself as she picked up a pack of candy and made her way over to the couch to relax.

Despite her front she knew that she could trust Daniel to take care of juniper. He may have annoyed the living hell out of her but he loved her kid and wouldn't let anything happen to her .

And honestly , another few minutes of peace and quite wouldn't hurt anybody .

Daniel sat the three year old on his lap as he ripped open the lid off the container that was filled with fruit , picking up a large strawberry and passing it to the girl . Before picking up one for himself , both of them chewing on their fruit as they gazed over to tracks where the odd crew member was milling about.

Feeling his heart race excitedly as he realised that pretty soon he and Cherrie would be racing against each other on that very track, in two very different cars.

Glancing down at the red hat that was perched ontop of junipers head, he pulled it off in one quick motion making the three year old tilt her head back to look at him with a scowl.

Making Daniel let out a loud laugh , whistling "wow you look just like your mother with that glare! Impressive!" He exclaimed , still grinning as he pulled off his own cap with his car number on it and placed it ontop of her head instead .

Juniper pulled off the cap almost Immediately, looking down at it with a cute scrunch of her eyebrows , clearly not impressed.

"I don't want a loser cap!" She protested, ever the Ferrari fan. Shoving another piece of fruit into her tiny mouth as she judgmentally stared him down.

Daniel couldn't believe how mean she was, a literal carbon copy of her mother!

"Hey! That's a legends cap! I beat your mother on the track ya know!" He reminded her proudly. Taking the cap from her and stubbornly popping it back down on her head again.

Juniper just frowned at him, then she reached forward and pinched his nose hard enough that he gasped and tapped her hand away from him with wide eyes. Shocked.

"Only Once! Mommy beat you every other time! She's a winner!" She defended her mother ferociously , glaring at him till he was squirming in his seat

Unable to believe that he was getting a hard stare from a three year old. And judging by the nose pinch, she was threatening him too!

Moving her around until she was side ways on his lap isntead, he side eyed her. Unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face at the way she was so protective of Cherrie.

Sighing in mock defeat, he nodded his head in agreement. "You're right. She is. You know what else she's also the winner of?" He mischievously asked the toddler . Shoving a piece of orange into his mouth as he waited for her to answer.

Even the three year old knew how annoyingly obsessed with her mother he was and sighed dramatically .

“What?" She mumbled, reluctantly keeping his cap on her head this time. His puppy eyes making her feel bad.

Daniel grinned "my heart! I just need to win hers now." He stated shamelessly . This having not been the first time that he had rambled his woes about Cherrie to the kid. "Any tips?" He wanted to know.

Juniper giggled a little at him, shaking her head. Remembering the way her mommy had told her that Daniel was a loveable idiot that wouldn't leave her alone when she had asked her why he kept sending flowers to their house.

"No more flowers! They make her sneeze!" She informed him helpfully. Because despite her huffing and puffing the three year old really did like Daniel.

He always brought her toys and her favourite food. He showed her how to play video games and how to play football whenever she was at her dads.

He took her to the zoo and got her ice cream! But most of all she could see just how much he loved her mom.

Every time he looked at her it was as though physical hearts were going to pop out of his eyes!

She thought it was funny how her mother kept shoving him away from her like he was an annoying fly, yet Cherrie couldn't stop smiling when he was gone. Muttering about what an idiot he was despite the happy look on her face that only appeared when Daniel had made her day again.

Daniel hummed "okay. No more flowers. How about wine? Do you know what type your mommy drinks?" He questioned her , pulling out his phone and pulling up the camera app.

Holding it out in front of them and pulling a face, juniper giggling as she stuck out her tongue at the screen. Daniel quickly snapping a photo of them to send to Cherrie .

You're never getting her back. We're best buds now!

He captioned it just to annoy her some more.

"She drinks anything. But Daddy said that tequila is why they have me." She bluntly repeated to Daniel, having no idea what that meant.

Daniel burst into startled laughter , "oh my god!" He couldn't stop grinning . Pinching the cheek of the three year old who was looking cluelessly up at him, wondering why he was laughing so hard.

"Okay. I'll remember that one." He muttered to himself in amusement . He was definitely going to be getting her tequila then. Already daydreaming about how a mini version of him and Cherrie would be like.

If it was anything like juniper , then it would be the funniest and most sassiest kid in the world.

Juniper sighing made him give her his attention again, his smile slowly fading once he noticed the serious look on her little face. Her eyes wide and curious as she scanned him up and down.

"What's up Juney? What's got you looking so serious?" He asked her, tipping the edge of the his cap up that was a little big on her tiny head so that he could see her eyes fully. Cherries eyes.

She reached out and started playing with the necklace that hung around his neck, one that he never took off.

It was a rare gift that Cherrie had given him when he won the race, it was a tiny resin version of their cars racing side by side in front of the finish line.

Daniel had genuinely shed a tear when she gave him it , with her avoiding his eyes and mumbling her congratulations to him. Clearly uncomfortable with being nice to him.

Daniel had swept her up into a hug anyways, kissing her cheeks and refusing to let go of her until she stomped on his foot with a huff, telling him that was enough.

It was then that he knew he had a chance. Having noticed the way she had proudly glanced over at him on the podium , patting him on the back and even bringing up juniper to see him as well.

It had been the greatest day of his life and a picture of the three of them on the podium that Matt had captured still hung proudly above his tv.

"Do you love my mommy? Like really love her?" She wanted to know. Frowning at him seriously.

Daniel didn't even hesitate, his fingers gently playing with her messy curls . The same ones as her mother.

"Yes I do. I love her more and more each day. Why?" He replied, eyes scanning her tiny face curiously.

Juniper pulled at his necklace again, trying to say what she was thinking correctly . Struggling for the right words for a moment before answering him.

"Cause' I want you to be my mommy's boyfriend. But only if you're gonna stay forever . I want you to take me and mommy to the zoo." She mumbled a little shyly , having really become attached to him over the last year.

It was hard not to considering he was always around and he refused to leave until Cherrie physically kicked him out.

Daniel felt a lump rise in his throat , feeling emotional at the strange way that her daughter was virtually giving him her blessing to be with her mum.

The thought of being able to take them both out on cute family dates almost made him cry , sniffling a little as he shuffled her little body so that her head was resting in his neck, hugging her close .

Rocking them from side to side , his smile pressing against the side of her head as she snuggled into him happily.

"Me too kid, me too. We just need to convince your mommy to let me stay forever . Then it's a done deal." He told her truthfully , his mind spinning with all the different ways he could convince her to give him a chance .

All he wanted was her , he just needed a chance to be able to show her just how serious he was about her , and her family too. Because they were a package deal and there was nothing more that Daniel wanted than to be a part of their little family.

Juniper hummed before pulling back to look up at him again, eyes widening .

“What if I ask her? She loves me! So maybe she'll listen then!" She offered up excitedly .

Daniel noticed that the time had flew by and that they had to get ready for their race , carefully lifting her up off his lap he carefully put her down on the floor again.

Holding her little hand instead as he began to lead her back to the Ferrari garage where Cherrie was no doubt waiting for them.

Then he got an idea. Face lighting up as he looked down at the mini Cherrie excitedly.

"I know! You tell her that if I win the race then she had to go out with me tonight! She won't be able to say no to your cute little face!" He squeezed said litle face mischievously. Laughing at the unimpressed side eye she gave him.

Batting his haands from her chubby cheeks, she simply huffed. "But then you'd have to win!"

Daniel gasped "are you doubting me? You don't think I can win?!" He acted offended , flicking her forehead gently.

Juniper just giggled , grinning up at him.

“No. Your car is shit." She repeated what she had heard her mother say a thousand times before.

Making Daniel gape down at her in disbelief "okay. Ouch! Also don't say that!" He tapped the top of her head a couple of times. Nodding at the Ferrari crew that were eyeing him in amusement as he escorted the little menace back to her mother.

"Bad word remember?" He tried to scold her but he just couldn't stop laughing.

Juniper just grinned "bad car remember?" She shot back at him. Bedore spotting Cherrie and making a run for it.

Leaving Daniel to shake his head in absolute amazement .

"She's so mean! What have you done to such a cute , innocent little girl Cherrie?!" He called over to her , laughing despite himself as he walked over to them.

She was already zipped up in her vandalised race Suit, giving him a unimpressed look when he started taking pictures of her in her suit that was covered in junipers doodles.

"I taught her to be honest. So anything that she said is true." Cherrie simply replied . Before looking down at her daughter with a smile .

"You okay? Daniel didn't give you too much of a headache did he honey?" She cooed at her Before raising her eyebrow at the cap that was on her head.

Frowning to herself Before she glanced back up to Daniel "where’s her Ferrari hat gone?" She wanted to know.

He just shrugged with a cheeky grin "the strangest thing happened . It just grew legs and walked itself into the nearest trash can!" He told her.

Cherrie just rolled her eyes at him and turned around to grab her fire proof balaclava ready for the race .

While her back was turned, Daniel quickly nudged juniper . Widening his eyes at her and nodding over to Cherrie pointedly .

"Tell her!" He mouthed at her , waving his hands towards her mother frantically. Eyeing the watch on his wrist in slight panic.

He had about another minute before he had to race back to his own garage to get ready as well.

The three year old rolled her eyes at him but did as he said, turning to tug at cherries racing suit impatiently.

Cherrie turned back around and rose her eyebrow at her daughter "what?" She questioned curiously , noticing the way Daniel was innocently smiling at them while rocking on the heels of his feet like a naughty child.

Juniper smiled brightly "can you promise me something mommy?" She started , lifting up her little finger ready.

Cherrie eyed the two of them suspiciously, frowning down at junipers pinky in caution.

"Depends what it is.." she answered.

Juniper huffed , waving her pinky even harder at her . "It's good! I promise it'll make you happy! Just pinky promise it!" She demanded bossily.

She gave in and hooked her pinky with junipers tiny one, regretting teaching her such a thing now.

She knew that she couldn't break the pinky promise either because  her daughter would never trust her to keep her promises again otherwise.

"Fine. What is it?"

Juniper giggled happily , Daniel patting the top of her head proudly now that the deal had already been sealed.

"If Daniel wins the race you have to go on a date with him tonight. And forever after that too. He's also going to take us to the zoo every month!" She added some parts to the promise herself .

Making Daniel raise his eyebrow at her in amusement , having said no such thing about it being a monthly zoo trip. But he wasn't going to complain.

Cherrie groaned loudly , rolling her eyes at the two of them.

“God! I should have known that you'd use my baby against me!" She whined , glaring at him .

Daniel just beamed back at her, shrugging proudly.

"A mans gotta do what a mans gotta do baby!" He cheesed at her . Wrapping his arm around her shoulders and giving her a side hug.

"I've gotta get ready but I'll see you at our date tonight yeah?" He ducked down to kiss her cheek obnoxiously before she could even stop him.

Dropping her a quick wink before skipping away and out of the Ferrari garage.

Leaving Cherrie to exasperatedly yell "you have to actually win first jackass!"

Making juniper giggle "that's what I said!"

Daniel just called back a confident and casual  "I will! I Love you!" Before disappearing  from their sight.

Cherrie gaped at the spot where he had just been stood, opening and shutting her mouth several times as his words sank into his head.

"Did he just say he loves me?" She wondered out loud in shock.

Her three year old daughter just gave her a look "duh! He's loved you since forever mummy! That's why he won't leave you alone!" She told her like it was obvious , because to her it was.

Cherrie swallowed and exhaled loudly , distractedly nudging her daughter over to her assistant so she could finish getting ready for the race.

Daniel loved her. Was all she could think to herself in absolute shock. I mean, she knew that he at least had a crush on her but in love?

Holy fuck.

Daniel's happy yells could be heard for miles as he jumped out of his car and into the arms of his team , all of them celebrating his win.

Feeling his heart race in his chest as he grinned excitedly "Cherrie was in P2 right?!" Was the first thing he said , glancing over his shoulder to the Ferrari that was pulling in behind him.

His engineer nodded with a knowing laugh, patting him proudly on the back. "Course she was!"

Daniel wasted no time in running over and pulling out the wheel for her so that she could pull herself up out of the car .

Handing the wheel to her engineer , he grabbed ahold of her waist and pulled her to him, both of them laughing with adrenaline as they celebrated their win.

"Fuck yeah! P1 and p2 baby! See! Even on the podium we belong together!" He teased her , swinging her around in Circles making her shriek with laughter .

Slapping at his shoulder to get him to put her down, Daniel quickly flipped up her visor so he could see her eyes again. Doing the same with his own.

"Shut up! I can't believe you won! Congrats Danny!" She breathed out genuinely happy for him, patting his back a couple of times as he brought her into another hug. Unable to believe that he had actually done it as well.

He supposed he had a good reason to win.

Bedore he could remind her of the date she had promised him, they both heard a loud excited screech and a familiar voice yelling their names.

Turning around to see junipers little legs speeding towards them at full speed , making Daniel laugh as he knelt down and held out his arms to catch her.

"You won!" She threw her little body at him, giggling excitedly as he spun her around like he had done with her mother . Rocking them side to side as she hugged his head.

"I didn't think you would!" She then told him shamelessly .

Cherrie snorted at that, stroking back the messy hair from her baby's face as she smiled at her . Her own heart warming at the sight of Daniel hugging juniper close as though she was his own.

She could see how much juniper loved him too as she hugged his neck and kissed his helmet sweetly , as though too soothe the sting of her careless words.

Daniel just laughed "wow thanks ! Glad to know you believed in me you little menace!" He kept ahold of her as he turned them to face Cherrie again. Seeing her take a photo of the two of them happily.

He knew then that this was it. This was the life that he wanted. The two of them by his side forever .

His heart sang.

Juniper then slapped at her mothers helmet impatiently , giggling loudly .

“You have to date Daniel now mommy! You promised!" She reminded her proudly

Daniel high fiving the little girl quickly , so fucking happy he felt like he could scream.

Cherrie just sighed and placed her hands on her hips in defeat. Looking at Daniel as her eyes softened "a promise is a promise." Was all she said Bedore their assistants called their names and told them to head up to the podiums.

Quickly pulling off their helmets. They handed them to their crew, Daniel quickly running back over to say goodbye to juniper , giving her a kiss on the head and a promise of getting her a lifetime of her favourite candy for pulling this off. The girl just giggling as she pushed him away towards her mother instead.

"I heard that tequila gets you pregnant." He said randomly to Cherrie as he catched up to her , wrapping his arm around her waist as they were lead up to the podium to celebrate .

Ignoring everyone around them, Daniel could only look at her with Hearts in his eyes.

Cherrie pressed her lips together , sighing. "Stupid Matt." She just muttered , shaking her head.

Daniel snorted "I have a bottle at home.." he wiggled his eyebrows at her teasingly . Not letting himself get disconnected from her even as they walked up the steps to the stage.

"Absolutely not. Not on the first date." She blurted out, flustered.

Daniel had never felt more victorious in his life. Gently squeezing her waist as he beamed "second date then?"

Laughing loudly when she pushed him away with a roll of her eyes, grinning as she shoved him towards the 1st place podium instead .

Standing on the 2nd place beside him, she looked to her right and smiled at him.

Her walls finally falling down as she saw the pure love in his eyes for her , the way he wouldn't look away from her even with the crowd chanting his name below them.

"You're lucky that you're cute! Because you're so fucking annoying!" She laughed as they placed their hands over their chest as they listened to his national anthem playing.

Once it was over and they were handed the bottles of champagne to spray , he looked into her eyes and said all that was on his mind.

"I'm in love with you!" He shouted to her with a heartfelt grin before he popped the cork off the bottle and sprayed her from head to toe in champagne.

Titling her head so that the booze didn't get into her eyes, she giggled hysterically as she turned her bottle on him and soaked him right back. Aiming for his face until there was nothing left.

"I love you too jackass!" She exclaimed , so unbelievably happy. Not caring that the cameras were picking up every single moment between them.

All she cared about was him.

Daniel clearly thought the same thing as he placed his trophy in one arm and then wrapped his other arm around her neck till her head rested in the crook of his elbow , then he dipped her and pressed his lips to her own in a champagne coated kiss.

Hearing the crowd gasp and scream excitedly at the sight of the two racing champions kissing played out on the large tv for all to see.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." He breathlessly repeated against her lips as he pulled her back up right, kissing all over her face.

Making her giggle as he licked the champagne up from her cheek that was dripping down, wrapping her arm around his waist to keep him up right as he leant all of his weight against her , beaming down at her ecstatically.

"I love juniper too. I owe her the worlds biggest tub of candy for this!" He exclaimed , laughing as he wiped the champagne from her face with his hands .

Pulling away for a moment , he held out the champions cup for her to hold.

"One sec! I want to update the last photo of us from last time!" He was referring to the picture above his tv of her , juniper and him on the podium the last time he had won what felt so long ago now.

He looked at Cherrie for permission, grinning when she nodded her consent as he jogged down the stairs and plucked up juniper from her assistants arms.

The three year old giggling as he blew a raspberry on her cheek , jogging straight back up to Cherrie , putting her down for a moment so she could hug her mom.

"Think you can hold it okay?" He asked juniper as he picked up the trophy and held it out for her with a smile.

Ruffling her hair when she nodded enthusiastic, practically snatching it from him with wide eyes as she lifted it above her head with two hands like she was made to do it.

Making both he and Cherrie laugh as he bent down and hoisted her up to sit on his shoulders, juniper squealing and screaming excitedly as they gazed down at the crowd below them, a sea of people screaming their names.

Tears springing to his eyes as he pulled Cherrie into his side , gently knocking their heads together , laughing emotionally as they looked up at the screen, watching juniper shake the trophy in the air proudly while she sat perched on his shoulders like she belonged there.

They looked like a real family. The thought made the tears slip from his eyes as he shook his head in awe and pulled Cherrie in for another kiss.

"This is forever . I promise." He sniffled as he intertwined his pinky finger with hers, Cherrie just smiling at him softly as she kissed their intertwined fingers in a silent promise of her own.

Then Daniel felt juniper slap at his face to get his attention, titling his head up to her and laughing Wetly when he saw her extending her tiny pinky finger to him as well with a expectant look on her cute little face.

"You have to promise to love me forever too!" She told him as though it was obvious. Impatiently waving her pinky at him again.

Daniel didn't hesitate in hooking their pinky's together, kissing her little finger with a heart warming laugh.

"I love you too you little menace! Trips to the zoo for life after this!" He promised her seriously .

Knowing that if it wasn't for her interference then he would have probably been facing yet another rejection.

But instead of a rejection, he had won not only the race but his own little family too.

He couldn't have asked for anything better than that.

Spotting max and lando in the crowd with looks of matching disbelief on their faces as all of his friends who had watched him desperately pine over Cherrie all year and fail over and over again , watched him finally win her over .

He smugly wiggled his fingers at them as they gaped up at him in shock.

It really couldn't have gotten any better than this.