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buttterknifeee · 3 years

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Tims S/O vs. the batfam

You, the reader, are Tim’s significant other. Congrats! you may think the hard parts over right? WRONG. you need to win over the whole ass Wayne family and heres how it goes.

Alfred

refers to you as Mx. L/N; however as you visit the manor more frequently, he begins to refer to you as Mx. Y/N

Since he refers to you as Mx. Y/N, you call him Mr. Alfred because you feel weird calling him just by his first name

No matter what first impressions you gave off to him, he never shared them due to not wanting to be impolite

you quickly realize that none of the bat fam helps with the chores, so you try to lend alfred a hand whenever possible

you try to be polite as possible around him, and he appreciates it

Dick

Is EXTREMELY protective of Tim

So when you first met him, he did the whole “you break my brother’s heart i will break your face” talk and that was TERRIFYING

Tim tells you not to worry about it, but whenever you were with Tim, you could sense Dick out of the corner of your eye, watching

However, as you spend more time around him, he sees that you’re really in love with tim and hes really in love with you

And you see that tim and dick have an amazing brotherly relationship, something you’ve never experienced yourself

One night, you tell dick that you wish that you had a brother as great as him

In that moment, he decided that he was gonna adopt you as one of his siblings and boom hes your big brother too now.

Duke

Duke being considered the newest person in the Wayne Manor, is basically your liaison, explaining all the dynamics and history of the Wayne Family/Manor

Super Charismatic, though hes clearly being observant of your every move, analyzing who you are as a person

But for the most part, he made you feel really comfortable at the manor

So the day you bought him a 1000 puzzle set was the day you basically won him over

You let him geek out about film and riddles, listening to every word he said, which was something that apparently didn’t happen often to him

Also duke straight up just third wheels you as often as he can

Jason

so basically

you were scared of jason

He was rarely at that manor, especially while you were there but when he was, he came in dragging blood or drinking alcohol

once while you were alone in one of the rooms by yourself, Jason came in, mask off, bandage on his right arm

he asked you, “so why are you dating replacement?”

“Why do you call him replacement?”

“Oh you know, because he replaced me when I died”

“oh. right.” Yeah you’re kinda stupid for that one

It takes a while for you to remember that jason is a vigilante who literally died and came back to life, and it takes him a while to remember that you’re a teenager and not a crime fighting super hero

so yeah your relationship does improve a bit

Whenever you guys get to talk, he always asks you some really deep question that throws you off guard, but you guys end up having really meaningful discussions and you get closer with him that way

Cass

you were even more scared about Cass than Jason

She just silently stared at you sometimes: didn’t even try to hide it

Like duke, she analyzed you a lot during your first meeting with her, although she did it to a more extreme: just by looking at you, she could sense your breathing, heartrate, movements; she was basically reading you soul

From this, should was able to tell just how absolutely frightened you were to meet her, so she made sure to smile to calm you down

Whenever you were alone with her you couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward; not only was there a bit of a language barrier but she was not the most talkative person, at times you just sat in silence

So you would try to do things with her rather than talking: you showed her pictures from your phone, she showed you her fighting moves, and you made conversation through facial expressions and body movements

Steph

VERY AWKWARD SHE PROBABLY HATED YOU IMMEDIATELY THE FIRST TIME YOU MET

i mean whos gonna be happy about seeing their ex’s new s/o not her nope

She kept smiling and laughing but you could see the burning hatred behind her eyes

It took a solid month before she actually talked to you

and it took another month for you to pluck up the courage to ask if she actually hated you

She looked embarrassed and admitted that she did kinda hate you in the beginning but that was solely because you were dating her ex, but she saw how good of a person you were, so she doesn’t hate you anymore

She asked if you hated her, since she kind of ignored you in the beginning

You said no, since she was so cool and you could see why Tim dated someone like her

Yeah so now you’re besties

And you often talking about Tim and his dating antics, sometimes right in front of him lol

Sometimes she would joke about stealing you from him, making sure to give you extra long hugs, and give u a kiss on the cheek just to piss Tim off >:)

Barbara

definitely looked up all your information as soon as she found out you were dating tim

Immediately went to interview mode when she met you

Asked about your future plans with tim, your job, your future college choices, your darkest fears, your median income

“... Im like 16″

Asides from that, shes pretty chill

you dont see her often, but she’s always down for a talk!

Would acted like my aunt from new jersey (in a good way)

Damian

You were super nervous about meeting him

Tim recalled events with him like he was recalling a war

So you were surprised to see a 12 year old kid being the one shooting daggers at you

“Drake brought home another guy/girl/person”

“damian shut the fuck up”

one day you catch him painting in his room

You ask him about his various paintings and he tells you his inspirations from each, going on a long rant for a solid hour

He realizes that hes been lecturing you for an hour and looked at you, blushing a bit

“Damian, you’re an amazing artist.” you say. smiling

Now Damian always tells tim that you’re too good for him, and everytime you banters with tim damian always took your side

Except when he saw you two kissing/cuddling, he would call you guys “disgusting pigs” and bolt out of the room

Bruce

ah, bruce. the final boss

You couldn’t help but feel absolutely terrified.

I mean not only is he a super mega rich business man and also like super famous but hes also BATMAN

you are also almost certain that he doesn’t know who you are despite being with tim for a few months by now

Everytime youre both in the same room he is often too busy to look up from whatever hes doing or rushing past you to go somewhere

Tim often confides in you about being the middle child in the family, meaning that sometimes people dont notice him and its really frustrating for him and for you to hear

One day u and tim are chilling in the batcave and bruce comes it and freezes when he sees the two of you

“who are y- what are you doing here-”

“oh um hello Mr. Wayne”

Bruce kinda just looked at you with a perplexed look, but that was when damian and cass walked by

“Father. Drake. Y/N” said damian, with Cassandra smilng and waving at you, to which you wave back.

“Hey Damian” you say nonchalantly. “I saw that you’re working on a new painting. youll have to tell me ALL about it later.”

“Of course. Im sure you’re aware of Georgia O’Keeffe”

You smiled and nodded, to which he gave the tiniest of a smile back as he and cass headed for the training room

Bruce just stared at you even more perplexed than before, I mean, you just made damian smile

You glanced at Tim, who seemed just as uncomfortable as you

“Oh yeah Y/N, didn’t we have that movie we were gonna watch? yeah lets go like right now.” Tim said as he pulled your arm took you out of the batcave, giving bruce the well talk later look

After that instance he talk to some of his children about you, and they had nothing but good things to say. Even Jason, who literally kills people for a living, put in a good word about you.

The next time you visited the manor, you were greeted by bruce himself, dressed up in a business suit.

“Y/N, correct?” he pulled out his large calloused covered hand and held it towards you

After a brief moment you smiled and took it

“Yeah, thats me”

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1zashreena1 · 4 years

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No Shame -2

Pairing: M/F, nebulously OC/Priest!Diego Jimenez [Starz Power] AU IMAGINE

Rating: LITERAL FILTH

Warnings: Power imbalance, astronomical blasphemy, Diego’s pornographic mouth, old timey woman related bullshit, set some time before 1900 in what will be present day Mexico

A/N: I guess I’m just gonna keep writing until it stops?? I am an atheist so please keep that in mind as I unintentionally mangle Christianity in general and Catholicism in particular. This was prompted by an ask, you know who you are >.>.

Tag a friend! @girlpornparadise @nicke0115 @fleurfatale89 @mandoplease @heresathreebee @chensingmachinee

It takes some effort to lace up a steel boned corset by yourself while wearing it, but you manage.

"He already admitted to liking you, honey, calm yourself." Your father laughs uproariously at the ridiculous display of cleavage.

You shrug helplessly, Dress to impress and all that, you suppose. Besides, I want him to suffer. This time you do wear all the underpinnings deemed a requirement by polite society. You are going to make him work for it.

This was a mistake.

He had sent a cabriolet with its driver, that should have been your first clue.

The hacienda is a sprawling estate, acres of land carved from the surrounding jungle and most likely painstakingly maintained. You pass through meticulously flattened fields with small cabins for workers and then gently rolling pastures closer to the main house. There is a large stable and an adjacent training paddock where two exquisite horses are being worked. You ache to see the beautiful animals, they had always been beyond the means of your family.

Several other carriages are already here. Oh no.

This is so far above your station that you feel sick. This is a world of landed gentry, of manners drilled in by formal boarding schools and titles you could never aspire to touch. You have severely misunderstood what it meant to be a Don.

Why did he do what he did in the church? Why invite me here? Why ask my father to court me? I am nothing compared to this. You despair silently, your father oblivious next to you.

The servants seem to know who you are, And isn't that terrifying?, and you're led into some kind of sitting room with other guests. Your dress must be incredibly out of fashion, people are staring. Although it could be the vast stretch of cleavage on display, you make note that most of the other women are significantly smaller than you. Their brightly colored dresses are trimmed in lace with subdued skirts, your skirt has rather a lot of flounce to it and the lilac color seems so… bland. Their hair is combed and neatly contained, artfully placed solitary ringlets that you know were made with curling tongs. Your natural curls are wild and expansive, the single twist at each of your temples combined into one long braid down your back only to keep it out of your face. There is a family of blondes, but everyone else is brunette. Your deep red hair is garishly out of place.

I do not belong here. You are desperately trying to fabricate some excusable sickness to beg off and escape when you see him. He has a smartly dressed woman hanging off of each arm and is gesticulating wildly while relaying some story. Dressed in garments so fine you do not even know what the material is, the sight of him makes your womanhood clench and your nipples pebble.

Ridiculous.

He catches sight of you as you are turning away. You spotted some books on a shelf in a corner and are about to seek refuge when he breaks away to head straight for you. For the first time in your life you opt for cowardice and run. From the edge of your vision you can see that all it does is lengthen those stalking strides. The books that were meant to be your salvation are, of course, in Spanish. Well damn.

An extremely large hand lands on your lower back and your heart leaps. He rumbles much too closely for polite company, "Buenas noches, Señorita. You look ravishable."

Did he mean ravishing? You make the mistake of looking up into that painfully handsome face. His grin is pure predator. No, he did not. Your temper flares with your desire.

"Good evening, Father." You hiss quietly. "You have a lot of nerve." Is it rude to immediately insult your host?

"Me? But yet, here you are. Tell me, little girl, did you wear anything under your skirts this time?" Those dark eyes twinkle happily. He is enjoying this. You lean down to place a book on the end table and his gaze drops to your chest. Licking his lips, he mutters under his breath, "We have a selection of proverbs here. Somewhere."

This man is infuriating.

"Do you expect to find out?" The question is meant to sound condescending, it seems a tiny bit hopeful. Your brain is muddled by his proximity, the scent of expensive toiletries is highly distracting. You bathed outside under a spring fed waterfall this morning. What am I doing?

"I suppose that depends on how sinful you have been today. If you have yet to sin, may I offer my hand in assistance?" Diego leans closer with his seemingly solicitous offer. You are struck by the near perfect arrangement of his features, the tiny crinkles at the outer corners of his eyes only adding to his appeal. His lips are framed by perfectly trimmed facial hair, the smooth cheeks a sign that he must have shaved today. His smirk reminds you that you’ve been staring at him breathlessly.

"I am sure I can handle myself." You smile beautifically. He exhales in a huff, his shoulders dropping in surprise at your innuendo. Then he smiles a real smile.

You are devastated. He is a very attractive man, but this, this is blinding. Your heart stutters, your stomach drops, and you nearly whimper.

"I, I saw your horse." What? WHAT? Why did you just say that? "And the others, outside, on our way in." If you could melt into the wall and disappear that would be wonderful.

The hand on your back rubs a small circle comfortingly. Diego steps closer yet, his hip brushes your elbow and you curse your stature. He quirks a brow with his next question, "Do you like to ride?"

He is fairly excited at the prospect of your answer but you have no idea why. You cross your arms to get a tiny bit of space from him, it only amplifies your bust. Sighing, you answer, "I do not know. My family was never in a position to own a horse." There. Now he knows how poor you truly are, just how far below him.

"A shame." He murmurs, "You are built for it." His hand sinks lower to the very top of your buttocks. There is something you are definitely missing here. Brow furrowing, you look up at him. His expression softens at your obvious confusion, but he is still quite pleased. His subsequent offer is charming, "After dinner, would you like to tour the stables?"

Your whole face transforms as you smile broadly. "I would love that." The wonder in your voice is unmistakable.

"It will be my pleasure, little girl. Now, if you will excuse me, my sister is demanding my presence." He purrs. You follow his line of sight to a woman who looks vastly different from him, but has the same eyes. She arches a brow, just as Diego does, and gestures sharply.

"Of course." You answer softly to no one as he is already strolling away. The loss of his presence makes you feel cold and very alone.

------------------

Dinner is an ordeal. There are several courses, foods you cannot identify, and no less than three spoons. Dessert induces discreet gagging on your part as flan is very… jiggly.

Careful observation is enlightening, you learn that several other guests are Dons of neighboring towns. Their wives accompany them, but you get the distinct impression that the unmarried sisters and daughters are on display. You come to understand that Diego is the only bachelor Don of majority age in a 300 mile radius.

This is a competition that you have no business being anywhere near.

And just how old is he?

You are sipping chocolate next to an archway in the open air courtyard, attempting to ignore the stares, when a dark voice assaults your ear temptingly.

"Are you ready, little girl?" The purring rattle makes your knees shake and your mouth salivate.

"Oh yes please thank you now." Relief palpable, you whip around to find Diego looming over you, the one hand being held out in invitation is now firmly squashed into your generous bosom. His brows climb to his hairline as you clear your throat. "I- yes."

He wiggles his fingers in your cleavage and you take his hand with more force than is strictly necessary. He grins down at you, "Very good, little girl."

You whimper. You cannot help it, the tiniest of noises, soft and high pitched, your lips do not even need to part for him to hear it. Please no, not here in front of all of your peers, you silently beg. Except, his face goes slack and his fingers tighten around yours.

Oh. Do your noises have an effect on him? Is this power that you have? Experimentally, you lick your lips. His gaze drops and his pupils widen as he mimics your movements unconsciously. Oh yes, that curl of power surfaces again in your belly. This you can work to your advantage. You smirk, "Shall we?"

His dark gaze is hungry as he glares at you, displeased with the reversal in the play of power. He growls, "Yes, you shall ride."

You are drug off before you can protest about your attire not being made for such activities. You have a sneaking suspicion that his only suggestion would be to remove it. You are having trouble remembering why that is a bad idea while your hand is tucked into the crook of his massive arm, fingers curled around bulging muscle.

You need to clear your head.

The stables are dim in the evening light and the smell of grain strong. Your only pair of nice shoes clicks on the wooden floor as you pull away from him to look around. Diego releases you but watches closely.

The horse's names are engraved on plaques above the stalls. Your casita does not even have a street address. I do not belong here. Your hands reach out to touch and a large nose appears over the stall door. "Hello," you check the plate, "Dante." Of course this is his horse.

The gray muzzle is soft as velvet and the stallion huffs at you in a blast of air that blows your hair back. The horse darts forward and you realize just how big he is. One step backwards to retreat lands you squarely in the middle of a broad chest.

"I will show you." Diego states simply. He reaches up with both hands on either side of you and takes the halter in his grasp firmly. With a gentle tug, Dante's head comes down and Diego curves over you to touch his forehead to the horse's. "Now you, little girl."

You reach up to take Dante in hand and the stallion rushes to do the same with you. His forelock tickles and you laugh delightedly.

"He likes you." Diego declares.

"How do you know?" Intelligence shines brightly in the animal's eyes and you pet him.

"He bites everyone except me." Diego shrugs.

Oh. You hedge softly, "Maybe he senses that you like me." Diego snorts above you. Snippily, you elaborate, "Beg pardon? Are you often in the habit of asking to court women you do not like?"

"I have never asked to court another woman."

The rumbling admission gives you pause. Those massive hands settle on your hips and squeeze tightly. You continue petting Dante resolutely, determined to remain stoic. The hands slide inward, around your hips to spread wide over your entire abdomen. Everything inside you is aflame. Ever higher, his touch travels until he cups your breasts firmly. There is no give in the steel boned corset and the large man behind you growls in frustration.

"Why would you wear such a thing?" His voice is rough with want, it makes you gasp.

"For p-precisely this situation." Your retort is less bite and more whine. "You must understand that I am not some, some, plaything to be had, available at your beck and call."

His beard scrapes your neck as he leans down into you to whisper, "Are you certain, little girl?"

"I have already been the laughingstock of one community. I refuse to be the joke of another." Your voice shakes with anger. Or perhaps anticipation. It is difficult to tell as he licks your ear.

"Does this feel like play?" He growls as you are pressed to the stall door at your front. His hardened length bites into your lower back and he grinds his hips harshly. Your soft wail startles Dante and he shies away.

"You will ride Dante and then you will ride me. After that, I will have my answer." He sinks teeth into your bared neck. What was the question? Your thoughts have stalled entirely.

"I, I do not know how to. To ride." Rubbing your legs together, you keen quietly. Your center contracts down on nothing angrily and your fingers claw into the wood.

"I am quite certain that I can teach you. After all, you are a quick study." Diego releases you suddenly and your body trembles. He goes about the business of saddling his horse while you continue melting as you watch his muscles work.

Fully tacked and waiting, Dante snorts at you as Diego beckons. His dark eyes dance with mischief, "Come mount, little girl."

You set your shoulders with stubbornness and stomp to him. Motioning to the stirrups you bark, "I am too shor--"

Diego picks you up like a child and you scramble for the saddle. Your skirts get tangled between your legs and crushed underneath you when you sit. The feel of the saddle pressed hard to your core means that you do not care. Every time you shift or Dante moves the leather rubs you pleasantly. There is no escape from the stimulation and you can feel yourself becoming wet. You have no idea how much time has passed while you tried to acclimate to this new development.

"Shit." Your unladylike hiss is deafening in the empty stable.

Diego doubles over in booming laughter and you suddenly remember the source of your current vexation.

"A warning would have been nice." You snap. He looks up at you with tears, his face scrunched up adorably. Your heart stops as you realize how beautiful he truly is.

"How do I warn for something I have never experienced?" He chokes and resumes laughing gleefully. Truly, an overgrown child.

You sigh, but pick up the reins determinedly and look down at him expectantly. Smiling broadly with your taunt, "I await your instruction, Father."

Those brown eyes flash with fire and you wonder briefly if you should be playing with that. He licks his lips but goes on to correct your seating, show you the proper way to utilize the reins, and then leads you out into a small paddock behind the building.

Walking is a noticeable feeling. Trotting is just painful. A canter is delicious torture. The stride is smooth and rocking, your exhilaration is twofold with dual excitement. Dante is responsive and feisty, you enjoy his personality and try not to examine why too closely. Diego intervenes occasionally to make small adjustments but has proclaimed you a natural with great enjoyment.

It is almost dark when he leads you back inside the stable, your face beaming. You struggle to dismount, Diego simply hauls you off and plops you on the ground… Except your legs collapse.

Diego, The absolute cad, uses this opportunity to crush you to his chest and stabilize you by sliding a long leg between your own. The moment the pressure occurs you feel a vast amount of wetness. That cannot be good, you panic and shove away from him, stumbling over to a chest to sit. Your wild hair is a disaster and you hide behind it as you check your layers. Relief washes over you as the outer skirt is dry, only the three inner layers are soaked through.

"What?" You whisper to yourself in confused terror. Is this normal? Do all women have this response? Is there something wrong with me? Am I hurt? A shadow falling over the skirts pulls your attention as Diego kneels in front of you. His smirk eases your fears.

"Do you have a problem, little girl?"

"You knew what would happen." You accuse softly. He does not even attempt to feign innocence.

"Oh, of course." His pleased rumble is accompanied by a toothy grin. Your hand flashes out faster than you can see. The crack of the slap on his cheek is muffled by all of the equipment that lines the walls.

Oh no.

He lurches forward and you shriek. His left hand encircles both of your wrists and he slams them to the wall above your head. The right hand hits your center with considerable force. Your legs jump, but he has the left pinned and his bulk squeezed between.

"I did not me--" He does not let you finish.

"I know what you meant. But do you?" Diego growls. You shake your head, a single tear slipping out. "Oh, but you are wet, are you not?" His fingers locate that pulsing bundle of nerves and he rubs slowly from side to side. Just as you had done in the confessional.

"S-stop. The other p-people, my skirt, it is. P-please do not ruin me like this." You beg as tears drip steadily down your cheeks, eyes squeezed shut. The hand retreats, your skirt rustles as he slips under all of the layers and returns to you. The heat of his hand is like an open flame on your oversensitized center.

"It is simple. Do you want this or no?" The decision is anything but simple. You want it, you want him, even now as he restrains your body and threatens your reputation. Your fear is sharp and sour, you had hoped to start over here. A new home in a new country far from your disgraced status. You miss your mother. She would shake her head over it but tell you to chase happiness. What do I have left to lose?

"Do you truly mean to court me? It is not s-some cover to use me this way?" Why? Why do you have to ask these things? Why am I like this?

His fingers press harder and you writhe. It would not take much to break you, I wonder if he knows?

"I rather enjoy your company. Intelligent, you speak your mind, you respond beautifully, and you took my cock so very well, little girl." His praise is followed by a drastic increase in pressure and you sob your answer with your release.

"Yesss, yes, oh yes, please, yes. Yesyesyes. I want. Ohh, I want you." Your body seizes as you bear down on nothing, the pleasure almost painful. The sobs are cut off by Diego covering your mouth with his. He forces you wide open and licks everything he can reach, all you can do is give in to him. The hair on his face burns and you moan.

He breaks away, pulls you to your feet, and then directly into an empty stall. Your legs falter but the momentum puts you exactly where he wants you.

Which is straddling his lap. What is he-- OHHH. The feel of his straining manhood poking up into you makes everything clear. You brace on his shoulders as his hands dive beneath your dress to rip open the bloomers and then free himself. He is lying back on a bale of hay, your feet are flat on the floor to either side. You know when his pants are down because the heat of him is molten. His fingers stroke over you from bottom to top, you are dripping, then he angles his length and-

"Ahhhhh!" Your shriek is piercing.

"Ohhhh, sí, little girl. So tight for me. Such a grip." He groans and drops his head down limply. You cannot see anything through your layers and he feels enormous.

"Wait, wait, please." You pant and he freezes to look up at you. "I have never, I did not even know you could, in this way. What do I do?" Terrified, you place your trust in this man who tricked you but made you feel so very good.

"Knees. Kneel, here." He hisses and pats next to his waist. You both moan as you shift and wiggle to position yourself. As you settle you bounce a bit, he bites his lip and digs fingers into your thighs. You try it again, the friction of him slipping out of you is good, but when you ease back down, well, you both make noise.

"I, I think I see." You grit out. With the corset on you cannot move your upper body much, but your hips are free. Your eyes close and you let the sensations guide you. Your hips bounce, your rear bounces, faster feels better, if you lean forward onto his chest you can move your pelvis quicker. A hand fists in your hair and he pulls, Oh, that feels good, you open your eyes. He is staring up at you, pupils gigantic, panting harshly.

"You. You are a very, very, good girl." He marvels. You keen and go faster, the praise makes everything feel better. His other hand reaches between you, finding your pleasure again as you shudder above his big body, dropping your weight to impale yourself entirely as you convulse around him.

"Ohh, oh. Yesyesyessssssss." Your whining cries seem to please him, he works you over again and again. You have never experienced anything like this, you are starving for it. He releases your hair to burrow both hands under your skirts and reach around to grasp your rear. You yelp, "What are you--"

He slaps you with intent, you lurch up his chest from the force, then he yanks you back down to be filled decisively. You have not been spanked since you were ten, this is catastrophically better.

"Again!" You demand hoarsely. Diego laughs but repeats the maneuver. You yelp with each slap, then moan every time he fills you.

"Does my bad little girl need punishment?" He rasps into your hair. Nodding deliriously, you claw into his muscled chest, whimpering for more. "Do not fret. Father will take care of you."

"Oh yes, please. Please. Please, Father!" You have lost the last shred of control over your own tongue. Those strapping hands secure your hips and he snaps his own up into you. He hits something deep inside that makes you collapse and he does it repeatedly until you flutter around him weakly and bawl into his ruffled shirt. His movements become stilted as he grunts above your head. A few more vicious thrusts and he groans loudly while holding you fast to his pelvis.

You can feel him emptying into you. This, too, is not new to you but very much more intense than ever before. He is prodigious. That big body goes boneless below you and he sighs contentedly.

"That was far better than dessert." Diego declares.

You snort, then giggle, and the giggles morph into hysterical laughter before you know it. He slips out of your quaking body, it is a distinctly odd feeling, when he joins your mirth. You prop up just enough to see his face, laugh lines frame those deep eyes and he has dimples! This is unfair. The man is a work of art.

You try and fail to sit up.

"I. Um. I cannot seem to stand." The confession is small and self-conscious. You are deeply embarrassed.

"Then do not. It is raining, no one will come out here until it stops." A big hand strokes over your hair and you fight down panic. He breathes deeply, raising you with every inhale. The heartbeat under your cheek is strong and steady, inescapable as a force of nature. Slowly but surely the tension leaves your spine and you drape over him.

"I did not know it could be done that way." You admit. Stroking rhythmically over his arm is soothing.

"Your husband must have been quite unimaginative." His remark is offhand, thoughtless. It stabs into your chest and you remember your situation. You pull back and manage to sit upright this time, he allows it but does not fully release you.

Shaking hands reach up to touch his face. Diego arches a brow but remains still while you trace over his features. Your heart fills with dread but you have to know. Voice unsteady, you clarify, "Did you mean it? You want to court me?"

"I do not say things I do not mean." His eyes bore into you. Diego pinches your chin gently, "I believe you can appreciate that philosophy."

Your eyes slip away as you swallow nervously. "But, you would consider me still married, would you not?"

The soft chuckle catches you unawares, "You are not Catholic. Why would the rules of the church matter to you?" The question is rhetorical, but you have an answer.

"But you are." Turning back, you blink with the burn of tears. This is it, you think, He will agree and then toss you like the trash you are.

"Little girl. I can assure you, the church has written me off as unsalvagable long ago. I ceased adhering to their silly rules well before that. This is a different country with different laws. In fact, the church would not even recognize your marriage as it was done outside the bonds of Catholicism. You worry needlessly." It is obvious that he means to be comforting despite his flippant tone. He has put some thought into this topic.

"Well, in that case." Tracing a thumb over his lower lip, you lean down for a kiss. Diego attacks your mouth ferociously, all teeth and tongue and leveling maelstrom. All you can do is allow the storm to roll over you.

-----------------

It never does stop raining. In fact, lightning and thunder come in off of the ocean. The two of you have to make a mad dash for the main house. His sister intercepts him in the courtyard to yell at him in Spanish until she sees you hovering just inside the shelter of the roof.

"Oh!" She gestures to you in frustration. "I see what you have been doing! Truly, Diego? I mean, look at her!" The dismissive tone hits you like a slap in the face. Locking your jaw, you step forward only to be blocked by Diego’s broad back.

"Do not! She is under my protection!" He roars. His sister steps back in shock. She peers around his bulk to look at you, then back to him.

"Your protection? What does that even mean?" She sounds flabbergasted and insulted by the feeling, at that.

"She has accepted my offer of courtship. You will treat her with the respect that is due." He snarls.

Oh.

No one has ever come to your defense before. Gratitude closes your throat with warmth. She stomps off in frustration only to usher your father through the doorway.

"I knew you were here somewhere. Ah, were you still out in the stables when it began to rain?" Your father smiles fondly at your soggy appearance.

"Uh, yes. Unfortunately." You clear your throat and glance to Diego. His lazy smirk is of no assistance.

"Come. You should get out of those wet clothes." His offer is sweet, but you can hear the unspoken '... And into my bed'.

His sister returns with a towel and a steaming mug of tea. She assesses you with a critical eye before announcing, "We have guest rooms. I would not send you home in this."

You are unsure if she means the storm or your attire; either way, you follow her through the house. She leads you to a spacious bedroom complete with a sleigh bed and water closet. It is pure luxury. She pauses at the door to sniff before leaving you, "Diego's rooms are directly across the hall. I will put your father in the other wing. I know how loud my brother can be."

The sound of the door closing behind her is deafening.

-------------

You wash up, but have nothing clean to wear. Additionally, your seat is throbbing. Touching yourself to bathe was excruciating with actual pain and such intense memory that you are exhausted when you slide under the covers nude. Your only good dress is in a ruined heap on the floor. Just as you should be, a lowly tramp.

A knock sounds and the door opens before you can respond. The source of all your woes strides in confidently and proffers a black garment. Not knowing what else to do, you take it wordlessly while clutching the sheet tight to your chest. It is a shirt, one of his shirts if the scent is any indication, and you assume you are to wear it.

Only he is not leaving.

Diego watches you with hungry eyes, waiting for the sheet to drop and reveal your naked body. An absolute cad.

"Is there any chance at all that I could at least have the illusion of privacy?" You ask dryly.

"Fine." He huffs and spins in place. Then stands there, waiting. Resigned, you whip the large shirt over your head as quickly as possible, then pull the sheet back up over your legs. The shirt tails fall just lower than your buttocks, you suppose everything important is covered.

"All right, I am dece--" He is climbing into the bed with you. Oh my. You squeak quietly, "What are you doing?!?"

Lying down next to you on top of the covers, he smiles at you and holds the arm closest to you wide open in invitation. He is well aware of how good he looks. How tempting.

"Come. You must be cold." It isn't exactly an order, but it is firmer than a request. It is the tone of a man used to issuing commands and never doubting that they will be obeyed. Oh, what the hell, he was inside me not less than two hours ago.

You crawl over the silky sheets and let him tuck you into his side. You are at a loss as to what to do with your hands.

"This, too, is a first for me." You admit haltingly.

"Was your husband demented?" The matter-of-fact tone sends you into a fit. You bury your face in his side to muffle your tired laughter. "Why do you do that?" Diego asks softly.

"Do, oh goodness, do what?" You chortle softly then compose yourself as best you can with no pants.

"Hide your mirth. Cover your laugh. Turn away when you smile." He is looking down at you in serious consternation. And awaiting an answer.

"It is considered rude for a woman to be loud with any emotion where I am from." The quiet explanation only serves to confuse him more.

"That seems tiring. You most definitely have feelings. Why are you forbidden to express them?" It is such a foreign concept to him, he is puzzled. You lay a hand on his chest cautiously. He does not flinch.

"I cannot say. I know that my mother raised her girls to be subdued and accommodating. I, of course, was a failure. My laugh is too loud, my voice too strong, my desires too ambitious. My own grandparents were shocked when I was married off. They assumed no man would tolerate me." I wish that man had ceased tolerating me sooner.

The hand on your back circles idly. It is lulling you to sleep.

"I forbid you to hide from me." He declares in complete seriousness. You are too tired to bother arguing.

"Fine. May you live to regret it." The last thing you know is his scent filling you to bursting.

------------------

You wake up on your back. Odd.

Your legs are spread. Very odd.

Luscious wet heat is washing over your aching center in waves. Oh no.

You come to full awareness in a panic. There, between your spread legs in the growing sunlight, is Diego's head, nodding rhythmically as he licks you.

Frozen in shock, you can only watch for a timeless moment as he laves over your womanhood leisurely. Long, decadent laps from bottom to top and then over again. You feel wetness dripping down between your cheeks, there is a sticky puddle under your behind. How long has he been down there?

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" You shriek. Lurching upward, you hit the headboard. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, strong as cable, and you fully understand your predicament. You are trapped.

"Mmmm. Is it not obvious?" The vibration of his rocky voice on your most sensitive parts is going to make you swoon. He resumes enjoying you noisily while you flail about uselessly. The sounds are obscene and offensive, you can feel yourself growing wetter. He moans appreciatively, "Yes, little girl. Soak my beard with your arousal."

You tremble in excitement and fear. If you are caught with him in here like this…

"Come for me and I will fill this pretty little cunt." He rumbles on, poking his tongue inside your entrance then gliding upward to stimulate your little nub of pleasure. You are going to, you can feel it building inexorably. There is no escape from his soft tongue, scratchy beard, and burning hands.

Your hands dig in the bedclothes as you keep in mind his decree. It is a struggle not to cover your mouth, but you are rather distracted. Your back arches steadily higher and you sink down onto his face. He moans happily and applies more pressure yet.

"Oh, oh my, you. You are. What is. I, I, please, oh please, do not stop." Almost. You are teetering on the edge of insanity when he pulls back. Nononononononono!

"Come for me, niñita. Come for Father." He attacks the bundle of nerves and you shriek as your body seizes. The contractions of ecstasy blind you momentarily while you sob blissfully. Your core clenches tight, shutting down your worrisome brain. He never ceases his licking, drawing it out until your legs twitch spastically and you push at his head weakly.

He sits up and licks his lips ostentatiously. It is a show for your bleary gaze. You notice his shirt is gone. The wide expanse of his body is bare to you for the first time. Oh. OH.

His shoulders and chest are well defined, muscles bunching and rippling on that broad frame. His torso is solid, his hips lightly cut out from his belly, and that thatch of hair begins at navel. You have never seen such a perfect specimen of malehood.

You must be gawking because he preens happily, puffing up under your favorable assessment. Surely he knows how he looks? His beard glistens in the warm light and you whimper.

"Now, roll over." Excuse me? His eyes crinkle in amusement at your confusion.

"What?" You blurt. Very sophisticated.

Big hands land on your hips and he urges you to turn to your left. Memories of every other time he has positioned you and the subsequent pleasure make you follow his lead. Flat on your belly, the borrowed shirt pushed high up your back, you squirm under him.

"What are you doing?" The question is quiet, but fearful. He strokes up your back firmly and you melt under his touch. His hands span your entire back and you rather like the feeling of being covered in him. He moves down your back to grip great handfuls of your rear. You squeak, but it feels so very good after the saddle yesterday. He growls approvingly as you arch into his touch.

"Yes, raise your hips to me. Now spread, there you go, relax here, there. Perfect." He manipulates your body to his liking until your hips are high in the air, your back sunk low, and your shoulders remaining on the bed. The narrow pelvis nestles up to your buttocks as his knees land between your own. A draft flits over your center and you suddenly comprehend what he intends to do. He is going to take you from behind, like an animal.

Are you insulted? I will reserve judgment until he finishes, no need to be hasty. You chastise your own impatience. Have you no shame?

He certainly does not.

"You are trying to be so good for me. Wicked little girl, dripping for my cock." He purrs above you, hands petting your derriere. You shake and squeeze hungrily. "I can see that." He moans.

Painfully embarrassed, you hide your face in the pillow without thought.

"Ah, ah! Bad girl!" He reprimands you roughly and slaps your right cheek. You yelp, he laughs lowly. Curving over your back, the heat radiating off of him is suffocating, he threads fingers into your hair and pulls until your head is tilted far back. He informs you ever so graciously, "I will help you behave."

"Oh, I, I am sorry, please." You babble, mindless with the pleasure of his hands on you.

"Yes, so repentant, I remember. You are very good at atonement, little girl. Now take this sacrament." He groans as he pushes into you. So thick, hot as fire, you twitch madly until the wide head is swallowed by your body. He does not stop, sinking into you for what feels like forever, until you feel the tickle of his hair. You worry he might come up your throat.

Rippling around him illuminates that you are stretched to the limit. He tugs your hair sharply and moans, "Are you taunting me purposefully?"

"I, no? Not, n-not taunting." You wheeze. He grinds deep and you see stars while your eyes are open. "Is that, it, not n-normal?"

He holds very still and demands quietly, "Do it again." You squeeze tight, he chokes above you, "You, Dios mios, you are doing that yourself?"

"I- yes? Sh-should I not be able to do, that?" Your question is baffled, Am I abnormal?

"Oh, little girl. Perfect, tight, wet, little, girl. Give yourself to me." He drapes his big body over you and turns your face to the side to receive a demanding kiss. He pulls back only to thrust home forcefully and you squawk into his mouth. The retreat makes you whine and clutch at him, when he slams forward you howl with how good it feels. Each thrust hits deep, it hurts and pleases you simultaneously, you cannot fathom what is happening. You clutch the pillow and sob happily.

Diego bucks into you at a breakneck pace, the bed creaks and you nod for more. You are stuffed full, unbelievably wet, and out of your mind with bliss. You want more, is that allowed?

"H-harder. Can you. Do more?" You stutter tentatively, afraid of offending him.

"Oh, yes, you sinful little creature. Take it, take it, take it." He growls in a rolling chant, snapping his hips harder. Your eyes roll back and you shudder through another climax, then a second, and a third, all one after another. You collapse limply, uncaring of his rough usage of you at this point. He bucks frantically, pumping deep to reach release.

"Oh, ahhhhh, yesss. Good girl. Good. Girl." He moans raggedly, filling you yet again. You did not realize men could do it so many times and so frequently. He pulls back and drops to the bed at your side. One large arm loops under your pelvis and he topples you over to crash against him. "Take a nap, little girl. You have earned it."

Your angry retort is cut off by a huge yawn. He strokes down your side endlessly, it does the trick and you drift off.

-----------

When you wake up again it is midmorning. You stretch happily in the sunlight, until your hips protest. Everything from navel to knee is sore. You sit up in a huff, wincing, only to realize that you are alone.

There is a plain skirt and very nice leather belt on the dresser, it is embroidered with a beaded pattern in green, yellow, and blue. The skirt is a little long, but you are rather short. Combined with his billowing shirt, you look like a child playing dress up. Your dress is gone, so this will have to do.

A servant leads you to the kitchens, she smiles broadly and points to your hair with a tiny voice, "Bonita."

"Thank you." You nod, unsure how to respond. Your father is at a large butcher block table, socializing easily with a young mother and her toddler despite the language barrier.

"Good morning. I apologize for sleeping so late, I must have been more tired than I realized." You announce your presence as casually as possible.

Diego's sister breezes into the room and announces that the carriage is ready whenever you are. The barb does not go unnoticed. You thank her sweetly for the hospitality as she herds you outside and sees you off as quickly as possible.

You wonder if Diego even knows you are leaving.

I still do not know why he pretended to be a priest.

#damnit diego #ok but this time its literal #starz power diego jimenez #diego imagine au 1 #maurice compte #zash writes #dick with side of feels #i would apologize but im not sorry #how dare you sir #anybody else remember the 90s tv zorro show?#because apparently i do

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viktory-arts · 4 years

Text

But It’s a Really Long Song Chapter 7: Lacie Hart and Evelyn Huffman: Confessions in a Small Red Car

Lacie Hart was best friends with Evelyn Huffman. They did everything together! Even if one of them didn’t like whatever they did, they did it together nonetheless.

Lacie didn’t particularly care for soccer, but she played it for Evelyn, Evelyn didn’t really like track and field per se, but she did it for Lacie. That was just how their friendship was. If one of them did something, the other was soon to follow in their footsteps.

Luckily, both of them enjoyed basketball, so when the time finally came for the first practice, they both got into Lacie’s small red car and sang at the top of their lungs together as they sped down the road towards Johnathan High.

“You ‘cited Evie?” Lacie asked with a knowing glint to her grin as the song faded out. Evelyn turned the aux down, and smiled brightly at Lacie.

“Yeah! I wonder who all will be there.” Evelyn pushed back a lock of warm brown hair and tucked it behind her ear. Lacie seemed to be in thought for a moment, eyes still carefully trained on the road as she did so.

“Well, Mayu and Jaqueline, obviously.” Lacie started and Evelyn nodded her assent. Yeah, you couldn’t go to Johnathan High and not know that those two were on the basketball team. Those two loved basketball with their entire heart. It was both intimidating and admirable to see them get so invested into something. It oftentimes inspired Evelyn and Lacie to work harder.

“Yeah, Charlotte, Idris, Karla, and I think Anthony’s sister are playing this year.” Evelyn said and Lacie quirked a shapely dark brown eyebrow.

“Anthony’s sister? What’s her name again? Sarah, right?” Lacie asked and Evelyn snorted, to which Lacie took a moment to shove her shoulder for laughing at her. That just made Evelyn laugh harder, doing her little pig snort that everyone else found annoying, but Lacie found downright adorable. Everything about Evelyn was adorable to her.

With that thought, Lacie was blushing a little bit, and didn’t hear whatever Evelyn had said. The brunette noticed this and poked her best friend with her finger. Lacie jolted, and Evelyn snorted again.

“Did you even hear what I just said?” Evelyn asked, already knowing the answer. Lacie blushed, it even showing through her tan skin, which just made Evelyn laugh again. At least she was laughing, even if it is at me, Lacie thought.

“Shut up! I was listening! You were talking about, uh, Sarah…” Lacie trailed off and Evelyn rolled her eyes. She huffed a breath, obviously amused.

“Solvo. Her name is Solvo.” She said simply and Lacie scoffed.

“Oh come off of it, I knew that. For sure.” Evelyn shook her head, smiling creeping its way onto her pale face. Evelyn pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up her nose and grinned at Lacie, who saw it out of the corner of her eye, as she was watching the road like a good lil’ driver.

“Anyways,” Lacie continued and Evelyn rolled her eyes amusedly. “Is Solvo any good you think?” Lacie asked.

“What’re you on about? Of course she’s good! We watched one of her eighth-grade games last year together! Don’t you remember?” Lacie tried to remember and eventually found the memory, as that was the game they went to where Solvo drove to the hoop through three defenders. It was very impressive.

“Yeah, I remember. She was the one that drove through all those people, yeah?” Evelyn nodded and Lacie grinned.

“Yeah, she’ll probably be a secondary starter for that. Her speed’s off the charts.” Lacie said and Evelyn nodded.

“I heard there’s gonna be a couple of new players besides them.” Evelyn drummed her fingers on the dashboard, to which made Lacie glance at those perfectly delicate hands, making her face heat up again at the thought. She was a downright mess, huh?

“Oh yeah? Who all is new?” Evelyn stopped drumming her fingers and she put up her right hand, presumably to count off the new players.

“Well, there’s these girls, sisters. The Mims, I think their last names are. Three of ‘em, a freshmen, a sophomore, and a junior. I know the oldests name’s Darna, I don’t know about the others.” Evelyn paused, seemingly in thought about something before continuing. “I heard Jaq talking about her. She’s apparently real skinny, but she plays post.” Lacie turned on her turn signal, and as she rounded around the corner.

“Hmm… I think I have Darna in my math and Spanish class.” Evelyn’s eyebrows raised a tad.

“Oh really? She smart?” Lacie shrugged.

“I dunno, I’m not exactly the brightest, that’s why I’m in the slower-learning classes. She could just be there ‘cause she’s new and I’ve heard all the smart-kid classes have been really full this year.” Evelyn made an affronted noise and Lacie turned her head to her in confusion.

“What-”

“You’re pretty damn smart, Lacie. Don’t say shit like that. ‘I’m not exactly the brightest’, my ass.” Evelyn huffed and Lacie’s face lit up red once again. Evelyn was too nice, Lacie thought as she pulled into the school parking lot. She looked at the time, which said 3:30.

“Oops, we got here earlier than I thought.” Lacie said, trying to change the subject so her heart could calm down. Evelyn noticed this and she waved off the topic, as she hated seeing her best friend even the tiniest bit uncomfortable. But not before saying her final piece.

“You are smart, Lacie. Just ‘cause the teachers and your family don’t see it doesn’t mean it’s true. You’re the damn brightest one in this whole shitty school, got it?” Lacie’s heart screamed in her chest at those words and the gentle tilt of Evelyn’s lips.

“Evie I-” Lacie coughed into her first. Was she really going to do this? Now? Right before practice? What if she messed everything up?! What if-

“What is it, Lacie?” Evelyn asked gently as she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned her attention towards the panicking girl, trying to calm her down with just her voice.

“I- I don’t wanna mess this up…” Lacie was breathing a little heavier than normal, and Evelyn’s eyes widened, and she put a warm hand on her shoulder, and cupped another to Lacie’s face, her brown eyes tearing up.

“Shh, shh… What’s got you all worked up, Lacie?” Evelyn asked, and Lacie leaned her face into Evelyn’s delicate touch.

“I, I don’t want you to hate me…” Lacie said, her voice cracking at the end, tears running their way down Evelyn’s pale hand. Evelyn’s eyes widened, and she grabbed Lacie’s face with both hands, making her face her. Lacie gently gripped her hands, her brown eyes wide with fear and wonder.

“Now you listen here, Lacie Hart. I could never hate you. I don’t know what gave you even the slightest notion that I could hate you, but I could never hate you. Do you understand?” Evelyn said gently, but with a force behind her words that made Lacie startle, as she had never heard that kind of seriousness in her best friend’s voice before.

“Now, what is it that you want to tell me?” Evelyn’s bright blue eyes looked into Lacie’s brown ones, eyes twinkling in the afternoon light, sun shining through Lacie’s shitty small red car, making golden light shine onto Evelyn’s pale face and warm brown hair. Lacie’s hands clenched so hard she thought her nails were going to cut open her palms. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like she was going to have a heart attack.

But she had to do this. Evelyn had to know just how much Lacie cared for Evelyn.

How much Lacie loved Evelyn.

“I- I love you, Evie.” Lacie whispered softly into the air and shut her eyes, too afraid to open them and see a potentially disgusted face on her best friend’s face. Evelyn made a confused noise, oblivious to what Lacie was so worked up about.

“I love you too? Is that what you were so worked up about?” Evelyn sounded so confused that it hurt Lacie to have to say it again, have to clarify what she meant.

“N-No, you don’t understand. I love you.” Lacie said and gentle grabbed Evelyn’s head and pushed it towards hers. She made the movements slow enough that if Evelyn was truly disgusted with what Lacie was doing, she could move away at any moment. Lacie’s eyes were closed, so she couldn’t see that Evelyn’s eyes were widening with understanding, but she was still with shock.

When their lips met, Lacie felt like the entire world closed in around them, like nothing else existed besides them and Evelyn’s soft lips against hers. Evelyn didn’t move, and Lacie didn’t wait to see if she would. Lacie pulled away slowly, trying to savor the taste and feeling of her best friend’s lips against hers, the warm that she had felt with no other before.

“Oh,” was all Evelyn said, and the moment was broken for Lacie and her panic came back full force. Evelyn didn’t look disgusted or mad, her face completely emotionless. She was processing.

“Y-yeah. Oh.” Lacie said, if only to break the silence that had settled over the two in the small red car in the school parking lot, forty-five minutes away from their first basketball practice together.

“That’s what you were so worked up about?” Evelyn’s facial expression finally softened and Lacie made a confused noise. What was she talking about? Was she not mad? What-

Lacie didn’t even see it coming, the quick, snake-like movement as Evelyn wrapped Lacie in her arms awkwardly over the middle of the car. Lacie was thoroughly confused, hugging her best friend back.

“What-”

“Shut up, stupid. C’mere.” Before Lacie could respond, the soft lips were back on Lacie’s. Lacie’s mouth was still against Evelyn’s before the shock wore off and they became pliant against hers.

Lacie wasn’t even ashamed when Evelyn pulled away and she made a whimpering noise after the warmth against her lips was gone.

“I love you too, dumbass.” Evelyn cupped Lacie’s face in her soft, warm hands again and Lacie leaned into her touch once again.

“I-I’m so happy, I-I-” Lacie was making whimpering and happy little noises as her happiness drowned out her intelligence to speak.

“Yeah, me too Lacie. I’m so so happy that you told me.” Evelyn cuddled as well as she could against Lacie before her eyes met the clock.

“4:00?!” Evelyn yelled and Lacie startled against her chest, then she processed what Evelyn had said and she jumped up, her face a little red from being squished against Evelyn’s body.

“Oh shit, I-I’m sorry, we gotta go! Oh my God-” Evelyn laughed at her best friend as she completely forgot what had just transpired and leapt out of her car, forgetting her keys as she locked it, leaving both them and Evelyn in the small red car. Evelyn was cackling as she heard Lacie’s frustrated scream when she couldn’t open her trunk, and another when she couldn’t find her keys.

“Evelyn stop laughing and help me find my keys! We’ll be late, hurry up!” Evelyn laughed and smiled so brightly, looking at her best friend with her hands on her hips as she was scowling at the laughing girl inside the car before she spotted her keys and began screaming at Evelyn to “Get off your lazy ass and give me my keys! Do you want to run laps, huh?!”

Yeah, everything was perfect, Evelyn thought as she grabbed Lacie’s keys and opened the door. Nothing could be better than being together with her best friend, about to do something they love together, and just being together just in general.

“I love you,” Evelyn whispered into Lacie’s ear and she blushed red to the tips of her ears, making Evelyn pig-snort again.

“Hey, y’all better hurry up! Coach Seaburg ain’t gonna wait up for y’all just because it’s the first practice!” Jaqueline yelled and Evelyn waved at her while Lacie rebooted.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s go, Lacie.” Evelyn said and held out her hand when they both had their bags and the car was locked without Lacie’s keys in it.

Lacie looked at her hand, then back at Evelyn, and then back at the hand before taking it in hers gently.

Yeah, this was perfect, the pair of best friends thought in tandem as they made their way towards the school.

Together.

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artwork-mystery · 6 years

Text

The Cat's Meow

Pairing: Hybrid!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ♡ | ♧ | ☆

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Slight language, the tiniest bit of jealousy, and suggestive stuff. Horrible cat puns/jokes/humor too. Whoops, sorry not sorry.

Notes: Guys, Yoongi keeps distracting me from other things I have planned for other members. I'm not biased, I swear, I love them all equally but for some reason he keeps popping into my brain uninvited. I'm not complaining but it's a struggle, gosh dang it.

Masterlist

Summary: Note to self: Give lots of cuddles, love, and attention to Yoongi because he’s a very needy and soft kitty. Also do not tease him with horrible cat puns or he’ll just have to make you be quiet.

_______

“Who's a good boy?”

“Oh, me, I'm a good boy!”

“That's right!”

You hear a grumble off to the side but ignore it as you continue to pet and rub your friend's hybrid, Taehyung, all over his fluffy head and ears. He's a very happy, enthusiastic, and loving dog hybrid who absolutely adores you because of the affection he receives. He tends to smother people he likes, which he's been lightly scolded for, but you don't mind because you also enjoy the playful and loving nature between you two.

You glance over at your hybrid, Yoongi, who's seated on the couch away from you both. He's a cat so he tends to like his own space. It doesn't seem as if he's paying any attention to you or the dog hybrid who are being annoyingly cute but then you hear a soft whisper, “I'm a good boy too.”

He's sulking to himself on the couch but you can't just abandon Taehyung because Yoongi is becoming jealous and needy. He won't admit it but you can tell most of the time how he's feeling just by his tone, simple words, or facial expressions - which don't change a whole lot. You do try to incorporate him into the playful setting though.

“Yoongi, want to come play with Tae and me?”

“Huh? No…”

“Are you sure Mr. Grumpy?”

“I'm not grumpy,” he huffs lightly.

“Alright, if you say so.” You continue playing with Taehyung for a while as Yoongi watches you two from his spot on the couch, unconsciously rubbing his hands together and playing with his fingers, trademark pout pursed on his lips. About half an hour later and your friend is coming by to pick up Taehyung.

"Tae is leaving, so we should say goodbye, Yoongs.”

He was reading a book when you spoke and glances at you before narrowing his eyes on Taehyung, who's crawling all over your lap, whining about having to leave. You and Taehyung stand up, and he clicks his tongue in feigned annoyance and stands after you both, walking to the door. He won't admit that he does like Taehyung because if either of you knew for sure, he dreads that Taehyung will never leave and take up all your time and attention - no way, he can't allow that.

“Bye Taehyungie,” you coo, hugging the overgrown puppy.

“I'll miss you, Y/n, goodbye!” He looks at Yoongi and notices him scowling, and smiles sheepishly at him. “B-bye, Yoongi, see you later.”

"Mm, yeah later,” Yoongi says, without any emotion. As soon as Taehyung leaves, Yoongi stretches and sighs out loud, “Finally!” He turns on his heel and walks to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. You follow him in and begin making dinner, quietly laughing to yourself about how silly Yoongi really is. He's obvious but sometimes hard to decipher and it can be frustrating but you love him and wouldn't want him any other way.

The feeling of hands snaking around your waist causes you to smile and giggle.

“What's so funny,” Yoongi asks, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You are,” you chuckle.

He sniffs and rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around you more. You continue making dinner and eventually get to eat it with Yoongi, feeling full and sleepy, so you get ready for bed. You're changing in the bedroom when he casually waltzes in, not bothering to apologize or even leave, he just plops himself on the bed and lazily watches you.

“Excuse you,” you say, exasperated.

He keeps his face blank and replies evenly, “Eh.”

“Ugh, really, Yoongs? Don't be a peeping tom… cat.”

You should really scold him for not knocking and for embarrassing you a little but you can't help from laughing at your dumb joke. You hunch over, almost falling when your foot gets caught on your shorts as you try to pull them up, and Yoongi snorts at your clumsiness.

“Nothing I haven't seen before,” he says, shrugging. “And don't tell such horrible jokes.”

You glare at him after you finish getting fully dressed. “Hey! Don't get smart with me, you having seen me like this before isn't the point, it's called respect and privacy. Also, my joke was good and you have to admit it. I'm actually feline pretty good about it,” you snicker.

“Y/n, please stop,” Yoongi cringes.

“Why? Cat got your tongue? Is my humor too good for you?”

He deadpans. “Okay, I'm chopping my ears off.” You burst out laughing again, wheezing from the effort to stay upright and nearly collapse once more, but Yoongi swiftly catches you and drags you to bed.

“You're so loud and obnoxious,” he sighs.

“Awww, but you love me,” you say cheekily. He makes a face and shoves you away. “Okay, fine, I'll stop.”

You try to scoot further away but you don't get far because he instantly grapples onto you, pulling you back to him. He presses himself against your back, winding his arms and legs around you to keep you in place. He breathes in your scent and places a few butterfly kisses on your cheek before burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing a chaste kiss, sighing in content.

You lay there for a while but it's uncomfortable and you feel a little trapped being completely surrounded by Yoongi, so you try to get comfortable but he squeezes you, stopping all movements when he growls softly, “Quit... moving.”

“Yoongi, it's not comfy,” you whine, squirming more. The feeling of something sharp makes you freeze. You take a few seconds to comprehend what happened but when you realize, you cry out, “Yoongi! Did you just bite me? What the hell!?”

“I said stop fucking moving.”

You peer over your shoulder at him and he doesn't even blink, only raising his brow, daring you to say he didn't warn you. You don't fail to notice that he had actually distanced himself from you a bit, but still kept some contact with you. You wonder why he seemed so worked up but then it clicks and you smirk.

“Ohh, someone's getting a little frisky-”

He turns a little pink on his cheeks and clamps a hand over your mouth, effectively silencing you. “Y/n, shut the hell up!”

He's glad you aren't facing him right now, he can't handle your teasing or jokes. You try to peel his hand back but he's stronger so you opt for plan B - licking his hand - which causes him to make a disgruntled noise, ripping his hand away.

“Ew, Y/n, why are you like this,” he groans, wiping the slobber off with a grimace.

“What? I can't lick you but you can lick me?”

“I'm a cat,” he reminds you. “It's kinda my thing and I can't always control it. I also don't lick your hand, that's just weird. Please, let's just sleep, I'm tired,” he whines.

“Ah, whatever, fine.”

You shift to get comfortable and when you don't move anymore he carefully attaches himself back to you, nuzzling into the back of your neck. He begins purring, deep and rumbly, when you place a hand over his and draw soothing circles. He brings your hand back and kisses your knuckles before he suddenly shifts you to face him. He smiles softly, pecking your lips and cuddling you, purring louder as you brush his hair back and caress his face.

It's moments like these that send your heart into a state of pure happiness. He can be difficult but he's a softie deep inside and you're glad to be with him and experience it all.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“Night,” he hums.

You close your eyes but open them a minute later. “So, is this like considered a cat nap or-”

“Y/nnn. Go. To. Sleep!”

“Okay, okay, no need to yowl.”

“Make one more cat reference, pun, joke, or anything and I swear…”

“Don't get your whiskers in a twist.” You try so hard to keep the bubbling laughter from spilling out but as soon as your mouth opens, you're tossed and you squeal at the sudden movement, blinking in confusion until your eyes focus on Yoongi hovering over you.

“I warned you,” he grits out, nipping your shoulder. “Looks like I have a bad kitten who needs to be taught a lesson.”

You stare into his narrowed, dark gleaming eyes that look dangerous, as if he's hunting prey, and you suppose in that moment you are the prey. Do you risk going further? You could keep your punishment to the minimum…

“Oh no, I'm going to be mauled by the big bad kitty? I may need a purramedic after this!”

He growls and springs forward, gripping your waist but you knew exactly what you were doing and getting yourself into and you have no regrets.

“You just can't wait to sink your claws in, huh? This is gonna be the cat's meow!”

You chortle but Yoongi is past holding back at this point and soon makes it very clear that when he says something, it may be in your best interest to listen to him. You won't be telling anymore jokes - much less talking - for about a week. Oh well, it was totally worth it.

#bts #bts humor #bts fluff #bts min yoongi #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts suga #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts au #bts au fanfic #bts aus #bts hybrid!au #hybrid!au #hybrid!yoongi #hybrid!yoongi x reader #bts fanfiction

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hnmdolans-blog · 7 years

Note

I’m literally so worked up about that oneshot you just did for Ethan like omg you’re such a great writer!!! Could I request one for Grayson now with 13, 20, and 22?

hi! thanks for requesting! we want to apologise for it being a little lengthy, if you guys want these to be shorter, let us know!

(R/G/N) - random girls name, since we didn’t want anyone to be the bad girlfriend.

send a prompt!

13. “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!”

20. “I think you’re just afraid to be happy”

22. “Choose me”

Today is the day you and Grayson agreed to go out for lunch. Upon the arrival at a little restaurant that only a few people know about, your eyes scattered across the people that were sat and enjoying their meals.You then saw him, sitting at a small table was the boy of your dreams. You adored him and every little thing about him such as the way he smiles while he is in his thoughts, the way he bites his lip when he’s concentrating and the way his eyebrows furrow when interested in something. Grayson Bailey Dolan, you think. You are most certainly perfect in every god given way.

You were watching his every little motion, every movement til his facial expressions fell into a darkened state. You knew straight away (R/G/N) was seated with him. Grayson gets treated awfully by this girl and his fans had no idea just how toxic this girl was and loved them together. You knew the reality behind this relationship though, Grayson has too much love for all his fans to disappoint them with the truth.

Our eyes met and Grayson’s face lit up straight away. You watch him as his eyes run over your body whilst you were walking to sit with him.

“What’s good, Jimmy Neutron?” You cheekily greet him with a witty voice, starting yours and Grayson’s wordplay. You watch as (R/G/N)’s face turns sour with jealousy and annoyance and you couldn’t help but feel satisfied. That changed quickly once you watched her pull Grayson’s head in and give him what looked like a passionate kiss. You looked away, hurt and jealous only to see once you look back Grayson’s eyes open, staring at you.

You know he isn’t happy, oh, how you know. It’s you who always comforts him when she decides to take out all her anger on Grayson. It’s you who is there for him when he is stressed and struggling and she wants to take his money and spend it freely. It’s you who holds him at night when she goes out to seek pleasure from other men. It’s always been you that’s been there and it’s you who wants to be his.

You clear your throat, wanting the awkwardness in the air to just disappear. They pull away from each other and as (R/G/N) smirks at you with victory, Grayson fiddles with his hands.

All three of us started our meals, the conversation was mainly Grayson and I chatting away about our favourite things in life but most importantly ignoring (R/G/N).

“Oh, did you ever get to building that bookcase?” He enquirers, still smiling from the jokes I told earlier. I can’t help but stop to admire how breathtaking he looks before snapping out of it.

“Ugh, don’t even bring that up. I tried to build it but I just ended up with more nails in my hand than the bookcase!” The tone of your voice was nothing but frustration. You had been needing more storage for your books and you never knew how hard it would be to build a simple, tiny bookcase.

Grayson smiled, looking down and you knew he was thinking of something. “Maybe I should come over after this and help you with it? I really need a night to hang out with my best friend.”

You knew he meant no harm with those words, he didn’t know the way you felt but your heart sunk. You wanted to be more, but he was too selfless to hurt (R/G/N) and the fans like that. Even if she deserved it.

A couple of hours later Grayson and you headed back to your apartment, even though (R/G/N) didn’t approve of you both hanging out alone, Gray convinced her that nothing was going to happen and came over.

The weather was humid and sadly, my air conditioner was broken so it was extremely hot in my apartment. Even after opening all the windows in your apartment, you both were sweating and panting.

Grayson went ahead and started building the bookcase as I watched. In the middle of building, Gray took his shirt off and dried the sweat off of his neck. You couldn’t help but to bite your lip whilst studying every inch of his chest. You knew he was fit, you worked out with him sometimes, but each time you see him shirtless you get hot and tingly inside. Grayson is too lost in building the bookcase to pay attention to you, and you get the scandalous idea to take your shirt off just to get his attention onto you.

You pull your shirt off over your head and fix your hair. You hate feeling so desperate and going through this much struggle to get him to notice you was something you had never done. In the corner of your eye, you notice Grayson was looking and you felt the tiniest bit of pride.

The tension was thick in the air as you guys held eye contact. Grayson stood up but stayed in the same place with his chest heaving up and down.

You felt something in your gut telling you to make a move. You knew this is the only shot you had, as cruel as it was to (R/G/N), you had loved Gray since they met and you weren’t about to let this opportunity go.

Grayson seemed to feel the same as he moved towards you with a few steps and leant his head down, his eyes flickering down to your lips occasionally then back up to your eyes.

You leaned up, hastily wrapping your arms around his neck and connecting your lips to his. He was still for a moment, only a moment until he fastened his arms around your waist and pulled you as close as possible despite the humidity.

The kiss intensified, your tongues meeting and your hands running all through his hair whilst his hands squeezed your waist hard. Suddenly it came to a stop when he pulled back with no warning.

“I have to go,” Grayson muttered and you knew by the look in his eyes he was feeling as guilty as ever. You weren’t letting this go, though. You felt something and you knew he felt it too.

“Why?” You stopped him by placing a hand on his stomach, in which he tensed up straight after. You felt every ridge of his abs and almost got distracted if it wasn’t for the fact that Grayson was trying to avoid talking about the kiss.

“I have to feed the..” Grayson was desperate to do anything but stay with you. “.. turtles. Yes. I have to do that right now.”

“Grayson Bailey Dolan, are we going to talk about what just happened?” Your face was burning from frustration. You wanted to know how he felt and he wasn’t making it easy.

“Talk about what? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!” You snapped, watching his body flinch as his eyes closed. You covered your mouth, shocked that you had yelled at him over this.

“I have to get to (R/G/N), she’s probably waiting.” He muttered, walking towards you and bringing you to him. He placed his lips gently on your forehead as a goodbye and you couldn’t help but tear up.

“I think you’re just afraid to be happy.” You whispered and placed your hands against his chest, drawing little patterns. “I know you feel something, Gray. I also know you don’t want to hurt your fans, but how could they feel hurt when you’re trying to find happiness?”

He is silent. His breathing is uneven and you could feel him grip you tighter.

“Choose me, Gray.” You looked up at him. “I won’t hurt you, I never will.” It’s completely his decision. You don’t push him after that, you stay silent and watch as his eyes stare at the ground. You know that you’ll be hurt if he says no, but you’ll accept it and move on. Grayson needs to put himself first.

He grabs your face in his hands in an instant and smashes your lips together. You can’t help but grin, feeling joy.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan #grayson dolan imagine #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins imagine #please let this show up in tags!!#we beg #hnmworks

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Note

Hy, Vy! 📚🌻 Here!

I read that you're having a busy week so I just came here to give you some reminders: Get up for a bit, drink water. Relax for a bit: let your shoulders drop, unclench your jaw and hands, take a deep breath. Better? Hope you are taking care of yourself.

Your three words of today are: Scratch, Silk, snarl.

Take all the time you need and hope you have a good week!

Love, 📚🌻

Hi 📚🌻!

So nice to be hearing from you again! My busy week has finally been put to a pause worries-wise so I can relax and write A TON of fics for you guys so I can make up for being absent for so long 😌 I missed writing honestly and, not gonna lie, your three word challenges bring me so much joy, I'm not even kidding. So thank you for sending me another, in return I send you a short fluffy fic with the pairing I keep using because I'm obsessed 😅 along with all my love, hugs, kisses and support. They're all addressed to you 💌💌💌

Worthy

Pairing: Chris Redfield x OC - Gwen Winters (y’all already know her by now 😅)

No warnings, just pure fluff, Enjoy! 🥰

“Wow, don’t you look presentable.“

Now, while the comment is not at all false and is completely fair and true, he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Not when the younger girl was glaring at him before he even opened his mouth.

She can’t be having it easy: baby food in her hair, a questionable stain on her shirt, some dark spots along her arms and what looks to be paint on her forehead and cheeks. Oh and hands too.

“And you look unwanted.” She snarls, “The Devil sent you to prevent me from catching a break today, didn’t he?“ She made her glare even deadlier which he didn’t think was possible. He should know better than to underestimate her like that, Gwen Winters always has a way of surprising him after all. “Well, go back and tell him I wasn’t planning on catching a break either way so you aren’t needed“

Chris rolls his eyes, “For the last time, please stop making me sound like your worst nightmare took a human form.” He scoffs, reaching out to remove a crumb from her shirt, “In fact, I’m here to help.”

“Ethan and Mia sent you then. They don’t believe I have it handled, do they?“ She sighs, walking inside the surprisingly quiet Winters home.

Her Captain, taking that action of hers as a good sign, follows her inside, closing the front door behind him. “No, they don’t know I’m here actually. I called to check up on them and they said they were on a date so I immediately knew who got stuck with the babysitting duty and thought you’d need help.” He gives her a quick once-over, grimacing slightly at the sight she is, “And it seems like you really could use and extra pair of hands.”

“Well....when you put it like that I wish you showed up an hour ago. That’s when this happened.“ She motions to herself. “Christ, I need a change of clothes...and a shower.“ A sigh leaves her lips as her arms drop by her sides.

“And a bandage.“ He murmurs when his gaze suddenly lands on a particularly bad looking scratch on Gwen’s arm. “What happened to you?“

Her eyes follow his to where a red line has marked her skin. She lets out a laugh, “Believe it or not, Rose’s got one hell of a grip. God knows I’d be covered in bite marks if she had teeth.” The look of shock and concern that flashes across the older man’s face makes her laugh, “Hey, don’t worry, the shower will be quick and she’s a pretty heavy sleeper so you won’t have to deal with her on your own.”

He nods hesitantly, muttering a quick ‘Right’ before the girl disappears down the hallway in the direction of the staircase with the intention of grabbing herself some clean clothes she knows won’t remain clean for very long after her sister wakes up. Maybe they’re not blood related, but Gwen still refers to Rose as her sister. Not rare are the times she’s accidentally referred to Ethan as dad or to Mia as mom when talking about them with some of her friends at the BSAA, hell even when talking with Chris. She doesn’t even appear to notice when she says it, but he does, and a smile always briefly graces his features when she does.

As he’s surfing through the TV channels, less than ten minutes after he heard the shower turn on, the baby monitor comes to life with the displeased whines of a child that’s awoken from its slumber. Chris Redfield, previously a BSAA soldier and now a captain, one who has faced thousands of horrors in his life, each more threatening than the last, is now frozen in place.

One thing this man hasn’t had much experience with is dealing with individuals below their teenage years. Sure, he held Rose when she was still a newborn but even that lasted less than five minutes cause he was so terrified of dropping her or her starting to cry. And now he has to go tend whatever need she has without knowing what they are or how to tend to them.

Wonderful.

Seeing as how the whines are rather quiet and haven’t turned into wails just yet he feels a bit bolder about the whole ordeal, getting up from the couch and making his way towards the stairs, passing by the bathroom where he hears Gwen singing ‘Lovefool’ like she’s the only person in the house.

“Don’t worry, Rose, I’d be crying too if I were awoken by that.“ He murmurs, stomping up the steps.

Entering the nursery, he’s pleasantly surprised to see Rose has stopped complaining and is just looking up at him, intrigued by the presence of this man she doesn’t recognize. Chris scoffs, deciding to drop the subject but right as he steps one foot out the door, the crying begins.

‘No way‘, he thinks to himself, slowly inching back into the room just for the cries to be put to a halt again. ‘You gotta be kidding me.’

“Listen kid, I’m not in any way, shape or for fit for this. Just hold on, your sister will be out in a minute, ok?“ His mouth is saying one thing but his mind is on a completely different level of following instincts - the fatherly instincts he never even thought he had. And while getting his soul stared into by this baby, he can’t help but give into those instincts, “Alright, but you better give me a good review if your sister asks. She can be really high strung sometimes, though I bet you already knew that, having to live with her and all.“ He murmurs as he lifts the now giggling Rose out of her crib, gently cradling her to his chest. To his relief, she stays quiet, relaxing in his embrace. “You’re much less of a handful than Gwen.” He chuckles softly, not wanting to disrupt the quiet too much in hopes it would lead to Rose falling back asleep soon. “I mean, I complain a lot about her and her attitude, but I’d do anything for her, if I’m being honest. She doesn’t know, of course, I haven’t told her. Not that she’d believe me if I did. She’s gotta be the most stubborn yet selfless, most sarcastic yet loving person I’ve ever met. She saves her good qualities for people who deserve to see em, I’m not surprised I’m not one of them. I’ve done nothing but give her a hard time since we met, but can you really blame? She was death-glaring me before we even exchanged names, for goodness’ sake. I probably shouldn’t bother a less than a year old baby with my problems but I have no other listener...” Looking down, he realizes Rose has fallen asleep. He huffs lightheartedly, a smile on his face, “Guess I didn’t have you either, huh?”

“You had me.“ He stiffens his muscles, startled by the foreign whisper that fills the room.

Slowly turning around, he finds Gwen leaning against the doorframe her small figure wrapped in a towel, arms crossed over her chest, her smirking face framed by a curtain of wet hair. She looks smug, too smug, insinuating she’s heard a good portion of his speech if not its entirety.

“Don’t I at least get an applause?“ He rolls his eyes, hoping the blush isn’t as visible as he feels it to be.

“You really think you deserve one with the amount of cheesiness you just spewed, not to mention gossiping about me to my own sister.“ She shakes her head with faux disappointment, her voice smooth like silk.

“Ok do I at least get a response then?“ He needs to know, there’s no way he can leave this house or even this room without getting an answer, no matter how disappointed he might be by it. Better a brutal answer than blind ignorance.

She purses her lips, her eyes leaving his and landing on the sleeping baby he almost forgot he was holding. She takes a few steps towards him, reaching out and taking gentle hold of Rose, her movements so light and careful the baby doesn’t even detect she’s being moved. Gwen lays her sister down in her crib even more carefully straightening up and placing her hands on the railing, smiling down at the sleeping toddler.

Chris stands there restless, his gaze analyzing and overanalyzing each and every shift of her facial expression, the tiniest changes in her body stance and body language. He’s never seen her so at peace and so relaxed, out of her usual surroundings and gear. The rough lines of her face softened by the sisterly love she’s displaying, watching over the sleeping Rose. There’s so much grace and beauty within her and it never fails to shine through. Not in the battlefield, not when faced with literal death, not even when she’s holding a weapon twice her size, making her look terrifying for the enemy.

He said he wasn’t surprised to be excluded from the tight circle of people she has - those who see her at her best - and he really isn’t. He doesn’t deserve her kindness, her softness, her smiles and laughter. He doesn’t deserve her. He’s not worth of a membership

Or that’s what he thinks, at least.

Gwen suddenly turns to him, the smile still present on her face as she gazes up at him, her head tilted back so she can look him in the eyes which is proving pretty difficult considering their proximity and height difference. Leaning back on the crib railing she sighs, “You’re right, a response would be adequate. But what kind would you like?”

He scoffs, his muscles tensing even more despite the smile on his face, “The most honest one you can offer me.”

She hums approvingly, nodding as though she’s contemplating her next move. He’s on the verge of telling her to forget it, let it all fall in the water and hope she forgets about it soon. He can deal with a few sleepless nights but that ultimate rejection, he knows it’ll sting a lot and for a long time.

However, just as he’s about to cross over the verge and open his big mouth he’s physically prevented from doing so by the pair of lips that have collided with his. Her lips. She’s kissing him.

‘Holy crap, what is happening?‘ It’s safe to say his mind’s racing which is mainly why it takes him a second or two to respond but when he comes to, he’s kissing her back with passion and longing, as though they’ve shared this kiss before. His arms automatically wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, while hers find themselves wrapped around his neck, her fingers gently tangling in his hair.

To say he’s disappointed when she pulls away would be an understatement but seeing as how she’s not in a rush to free herself from his grasp, he doesn’t complain. Instead, he allows her to rest her forehead against hers. He closes his eyes, their proximity intoxicating his mind, the scent of her freshly washed hair and skin making his thoughts hazy.

“Next time you wanna tell me something...“ Gwen whispers breathlessly, “...my sister is not the one you should turn to first.“

Chris chuckles, reattaching their lips in relief and ecstasy. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt quite like this: so high yet so grounded, so intoxicated yet sober. She gives him polar opposite experiences at once and it’s simply magical.

He may not be worthy of a membership in her inner circle, but he’s damn lucky she likes him as much as she does.

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