#Day 22: can you really turn your back on me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meiieiri · 9 months ago

Note

when do we get to see megumi in your new series ^3^

𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ! [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: “you really are your mother’s son,” toji grumbles to megumi as the little brat yet again refuses another kiss from him.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | art: @/amulin67 on twt/ig | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: n/a | a/n: finally welcoming megumi to this series, yay! 💓💞

“I’m just gonna go nap for a bit. Promise me you��ll wake me up if something happens. But either way, his bottle is over there, just heat it up when he gets hungry and you know where his diapers are—“

You are interrupted by a sweet kiss that still manages to catch you off guard ‘till this day.

“I wasn’t done, you know.” You place your hands on your hips, shooting him a warning glance. “And don’t you go tossing him too high. Need I remind you, our apartment has a literal ceiling fan—“

“—You worry too much,” Toji cuts you off again with another kiss. “Not gonna lie though, seeing you all worked up like that is kinda turning me on.”

“You’re horrible,” you conclude. Honestly, at this point, almost anything and everything you do can be classified as a thirst trap for Toji. You blush when Toji inches closer, his hips pressed against yours, a smirk plastered on his face when he sneakily squeezes your ass causing you to yelp. “Ah! Toji!” you swat his hand away, burying your blushing face in his chest.

Chuckling at you, he plants a soft kiss on your temple as he pulls away. “Alright, mama, go get some rest. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Thank you.”

No one ever told you that motherhood would be so stressful. Which is why you’re so blessed to have a supportive husband who may have started out a little awkward with caring for your newborn son but gradually became a natural with this whole fatherhood business as time went by. And that’s mostly because when Megumi arrived in this world at half past two in the afternoon of December 22 with nothing more but a small hiccup as he slipped into his papa’s waiting arms, Toji fell in love. And you don’t pretend to not know why. Because whenever you look at Megumi, your heart always just seems to melt at his pudgy rose-colored cheeks and his deep expressive green eyes that fill up with tears regardless if he’s crying or being overcome by a laughing fit whenever you pepper his tiny face with kisses.

Speaking of kisses, today’s latest fiasco is centered exactly on that: kisses.

You see, you have this habit that goes way back to when you and Toji first started dating. Toji remembers it well, you have certain moods when it comes to kisses. Sometimes, you’re the one initiating it which mostly results in Toji becoming an incoherent blushing mess, or most times, Toji gets the party started by slowly kissing up your neck, his breath hot on your earlobe as he presses his hips against yours while you slept fitfully, your hushed dulcet whines ringing in his ear as your lips instinctively find each other. Fun fact: that’s exactly how Megumi came to be.

But there are times too, when you were just not having it and you’d gently nudge Toji’s face away when he tries to kiss you.

It was a typical afternoon. Toji didn’t have work that day which was a huge relief for him because you’ve been suffering from dizziness and lower back pain all day. And being the helicopter partner and soon-to-be papa that he is, Toji keeps a close eye on you as you nap the afternoon away on the couch. He smiles softly as he sees you instinctively put a protective hand over your belly whenever you’d feel the slightest movements from the baby.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” he’d whisper to you as you slept, combing his fingers through your hair, a permanent worried frown on his face when a whimper falling from your pursed lips as the baby kicks you again. “It’s just the overgrown parasite fidgeting around.”

“Don’t call him that.” You brush his hand away, your eyebrows knitting in discomfort.

Toji chuckles, going to press a kiss to your soft lips only for you to place your entire palm on his face, applying gentle force to pry him away. “I mean, what is he then? Other than this thing that competes for your nutrients? He’s—“

“—Our baby boy.”

“—An overgrown parasite.”

Fuming at his words, you decide to hit back with a quick retort of your own. “Yeah? It really does take one to know one, huh?”

“What a cute comeback but maybe not as cute as you,” Toji smirks, his hand gently removing your smaller one from his face, his lips puckered up as he leans in. Teasingly, you place a hand over your lips, still refusing to indulge him with his much-craved kisses. “Come on, I just want one sloppy one~”

“No!” Your laughter-filled voice comes out muffled against your palm.

“Mm, yes,” Toji teases. “Yes. Come on, baby, just one.”

“You and I both know it’s never just one.”

Of course. Why else would you be in this situation if Toji knew how to spell the words: self and control? Still, it’s not like the two of you were complaining. After all, the bond you and Toji share is an unbreakable one that’s only been strengthened by time and the many trials you’ve survived together. And now, the arrival of the very product of your love is only a hair’s breath away. Toji rests his chin on top of your head, plopping down next to you and spooning you from behind. “Guilty as charged.”

And unfortunately, it seemed your son had inherited that troublesome quirk of yours and it’s beginning to break Toji’s infuriated heart because whenever he tries to give Megumi a kiss…

“Mmph—“

There it was.

Toji’s eyes shot open, grimacing as Megumi turns his head away, his eyes trained stubbornly on his dog plushie, and his chubby hands pushing his poor papa’s chin away with all the might a six-month-old like him could muster. And to top things off, he must be imagining things because newborns surely couldn’t scowl right? Their tiny little brains couldn’t possibly have enough electrical energy to charge a snow globe much less, learn how to hate certain people’s kisses.

“You little shit—“

Sure enough, the tiny little baby seems gravely unamused, his eyebrows are knitted, the corner of his lips curled into a disappointed frown as if to say: Go kiss someone else, you even bigger shit.

Toji mirrors the unfriendly scowl on his son’s face, noting how Megumi seems to be glaring at him. Oh, okay. The brat ain’t messing around, his eyes twitches but somehow, Toji is also a picture of a proud father. At least the little shit’s got spunk. And he wonders momentarily who he should blame for that.

Definitely not him, that’s for sure.

Toji doesn’t recall the last time he’s ever had the comforts of a peace like this one. Actually, this might just be the first time that Toji knew what that word meant: “peace”. A freedom from disturbance; tranquility, as per the Merriam Webster Dictionary. But Toji has a better definition for peace: you and Megumi.

But…

“I meant what I said to your mother though,” Toji engages in a one-way conversation with his son. He won’t recall any of this, but it didn’t hurt for Toji to be candid about his feelings every now and then especially when it came to this little one that came accidentally into your lives but brightened it up nonetheless. “The two of you would be better off — maybe even happier — with someone else.” He presses his thumb against Megumi’s cheek. “It’s what you two deserve.”

He’s been gone close to a whole day now and you were probably beginning to worry. Out of all the shitty things Toji has done, this, by far, has to be the shittiest. Standing outside a pachinko den, his back pressed against the wall, and his hand absentmindedly playing with the tokens he just bought. When he left the apartment that day, you knew that could very well be the last time you ever see him. Types like him aren’t keen on the whole picket fence idea of settling down.

“I’m heading out today.”

Your blood runs cold when Toji steps into the kitchen to inform you of his plans. You don’t even bother to look at him, your gaze simply settled on the positive pregnancy test on the table. The right thing to do was to stay, he should have held you in his arms and tell you that everything’s going to be okay not plant seeds of doubt in your mind by taking off and running away like a coward.

But for once, Toji was scared.

He had no business becoming a father when he’s lived in a dysfunctional household for majority of his life. What good would he even impart to his child? His pathetic existence has been a picture of disorder that was only recently resolved when you came into the picture. Well, if he were being completely honest, he still hasn’t figured things out quite as well yet. And as a father, that could be catastrophic for a child that required stability if nothing else.

Frowning, Toji leaves the pachinko den, chucking the tokens in the trash. It was far too early in the day to be hanging around shady places like these anyway. He wanders the streets for a good while, his hands buried in his jacket’s pockets as his mind swirls with thoughts about the all too terrifying future.

A pang of guilt strikes his heart and he wonders what you’re doing now. You must still be in the kitchen, your face buried in your hands as you try to think of something. You were probably assuming he wasn’t coming back. After all, you did say: “I don’t wanna pressure you into staying, Toji. You deserve to live your life the way you want it.”

A life without you? Sounds pretty miserable.

Toji must have been walking on autopilot because for some reason, he unknowingly finds himself in front of a bank. Mizuho Bank, Toji reads the sign, his eyes flicking over to one of the posters plastered on the window about opening a savings account.

He looks at the promotional material, transfixed at the picture of a family of four donning on those typical wide stupid grins in ads, the father is holding a hundred yen bill and is seen dropping it into a piggy bank that was filled with both cash and words like: health insurance, family vacation, utility bills, rent, tax, school, and…happiness.

…

Toji returns to the apartment at around eight in the evening after making a quick stop at the supermarket and the pharmacy. He finds you asleep on the couch, your cheeks stained with dry tears. He crouches on the edge of the couch, worriedly taking in your appearance. You’ve been crying. “Hey…hey, wake up,” he gently shakes you awake and your tired eyes flutter open. “Got you something.”

He holds out a shopping bag, chock full of fresh produce, and from the pharmacy, some camphor oil to relieve your symptoms and those folate supplements the attending pharmacist kept yapping about.

“You didn’t leave,” you said, bewildered. “I thought you—“

“—You thought wrong,” Toji says firmly. He pulls out something from his back pocket and you stare at him, perplexed.

“A bank passbook?” You open it to see that Toji had just made his first deposit amounting to fifty thousand yen earlier today. “You opened a savings account?”

Toji nods, looking a little proud of himself. “Yeah,” he tries to play it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “Every week, we’ll be depositing fifteen thousand yen in that thing. Ten thousand for your maternity needs, and five for the little brat’s schooling one day.”

Tears spring to your eyes upon realizing that Toji was here to stay. “You mean you’re—?” You are cut off by a warm kiss on your lips, and you place a hand over Toji’s chest, your fingertips gripping the fabric of his shirt as his lips move against yours. He pulls away after a while.

“Gonna spite the hell out of the Zenin clan and send my brat to the most expensive preschool in Tokyo? Yes, I am.”

Toji sighs, his thumb rubbing across Megumi’s chubby cheek. “But maybe — just maybe — hear me out and don’t you give me another glare.” Megumi’s not gonna remember any of this. After all, memories begin when the brain can fully register speech. But Toji felt the need to say this so, subconsciously, his son will understand just how much he’s done and he’s willing to do for the both of you.

“…Maybe I deserve the two of you too, you know.”

Megumi looks up at his father, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Toji sticks his tongue out at the little one causing the latter to…hiccup? Nah, Toji was sure that was a giggle.

Smirking, Toji leans down to give his son a kiss, thinking he’s patched things up between them now only for Megumi to curl up again, his feet and hands resisting against Toji, his lip downturned in effort as he pushes him away yet again. Conceding, Toji grumbles, rubbing the spot where Megumi roughly pushed him away.

“You really are your mother’s son.”

6K notes · View notes

httpsleclerc · 1 month ago

Text

the story of us - chapter 2

pairings: Max Verstappen x Sister!Reader, Charles Leclerc x Single Mom!Verstappen!Reader, Platonic Kelly Piquet x Verstappen!Reader

summary: Charles and Verstappen!Reader meet for the first time as adults with a little plus one.

warnings: pregnancy, controlling behaviour from a partner, baby trapping

w/c: 3.4k words

a/n: thank you so much for all of the love on the first part of this series it really means a lot to me! As always, I'm always open to feedback and reblogs! Thank you all for the support again!

my masterlist // series masterlist

The air felt thick and suffocating around you, your shaking hands reaching out to take a hold of the small pink stick which sat on the bathroom counter. You swallowed the lump of fear in your throat, turning the plastic stick around, your breath caught in your throat.

The two pink lines stared back at you glaringly, unwavering and strong.

You were pregnant.

Tears sprung to your eyes, you didn't know whether to be excited or scared - Sure, you were going to have a baby and become a mom, but you were still young, you were only 22 and you knew that your relationship with Lukas was far from healthy and stable.

"What are you doing in there?" You heard him ask through the door, making you jump, yet holding on tightly to the proof of the little life growing inside of you. "Y/N." You pulled yourself together, hoping that he couldn't see the conflict within you.

"Lukas, I'm pregnant," You had gotten your bluntness from your brother, in one sense. You studied his face for any semblance of a reaction, one thing, you had claimed you gained from your abusive childhood, was your emotional intelligence. You watched as his face lit up, slowly racing to gently place his hand on the still flat surface of your stomach.

"Really? That's...that's great, love," He told you, a grin on his face.

He wasn't grinning about the prospect of becoming a father, he was grinning over the fact that he had you in the palm of his hand. He had been working you up to this, switching out your birth control pills for placebos, timing your cycle perfectly, making sure that he had you trapped. He knew that you had a traumatic childhood and that you would be eager to raise your own family completely differently from how you had been.

"Really? You don't think that it's too soon?" You looked up at him, tears in your eyes. He smiled down at you, swiping the tears away from your face as they slowly fell.

"Not at all, my love, you're ready for this, you're going to be such a good mum," He soothed you, pulling you in tight and holding you to his chest as he rubbed your back. "Our baby's going to be so lucky." You nodded, smiling up at him as you realised that maybe this was Lukas changing, maybe you having his baby was all that he needed to stop being so cruel to you.

Now, you just had to tell your brother. If Lukas let you.

"...Lukas?" You sat across from him on the couch, nervously trying to read his expression as he hummed in response. "Um...when can we tell Max I'm pregnant?" His eyes flicked up to yours, but softened as he saw you rubbing circles on your growing stomach.

"...Whenever you want, when is he back in Monaco, we could make a day of it," He suggested, giving you a soothing smile. He knew this would show your older brother that you were his now, bonded together by the life inside of you. You smiled, getting up from your spot on the sofa to curl up as best as you could beside Lukas, smiling as he placed his hand on your small bump. "She's kicking now?" You giggled as you nodded, feeling the baby, who you had recently had revealed to be a girl, kicked against her father's touch.

"Yeah, I think she knows our voices now," You smiled, placing your hands over his. "I can't believe she's this big already." Lukas smiled, knowing that now he had you exactly where he wanted you - He'd given you a baby, after this you'd have his last name and maybe another baby to keep you trapped.

"Well, she's gonna get bigger," He gently nudged you, making you giggle. "I'll call Max and arrange something, okay?" You nodded and smiled contentedly, Lukas knew that you wouldn't be questioning anything right now, your hormones and baby brain had made you almost dependent on him for everything.

Lukas had arranged to meet with Max at a little restaurant in Monte Carlo, he had taken you to it a couple times for a date, since it appeared that their pizza was the only one made with something that didn't make you throw up.

Max, couldn't wait to see you. It had been months, and he was certain that you were leaving Lukas, saying that you couldn't take how controlling he was anymore - So to hear Lukas calling him and saying that you wanted to see him, Max let his excitement blind him.

However

As he saw you walk into the restaurant, Lukas following behind you, he couldn't be blind to the small bump on your midsection. He froze, swallowing the lump in his throat while trying to act casual. So this was why you were still with him, he had gotten you pregnant.

"Hi Max," Your grin was wide as you saw your older brother stand on his feet, embracing you tightly, but not too tight as to hurt the baby. "So...surprise, you're gonna be an uncle!" You cheered excitedly, watching as Max grinned and kiss your cheek. You were too excited for him to tell you how he was really feeling about it, so he played along with you.

"That's great, kleine zusje, I'm so happy for you," Max said, giving Lukas a knowing look as he came up behind you, placing his hand on the small of your back. Lukas pulled a chair out for you to sit across from your brother, but beside him. You always had to be beside him. "So, do you know what you're having?" You smiled and nodded, protectively placing a hand on your stomach.

"A girl, we're gonna name her Romy."

Max made sure that Lukas would be home when he went to collect yours and Romy's belongings. He needed to make sure that he knew that neither you or your daughter needed anything from him anymore, that even if it meant that the two of you had to live with him until you got on your feet, then that would be it - You and Romy didn't need him anymore. Knocking on the door of your old apartment, Max stood, his jaw and fists clenched.

"What do you want?" Lukas answered the door, freezing upon seeing your older brother standing at the door. "Didn't Y/N tell you what I told her? I don't want her or the baby back, she can get her child payment but that's it. I'm done with her." He harshly told Max. Max scoffed ash he shook his head - The audacity of him to think that Max would ever let you go back to him.

"I know that, I just came to tell you that if I ever, ever see you around Y/N or Romy again, then I'll personally make sure that you never see again. You never deserved either of them." Max responded, fully meaning his threat - He wasn't known as Mad Max for nothing. Lukas just shook his head in response, laughing at Max.

"You can play the protective big brother role all you want, Max, but I know how dependent Y/N was on me for the past 3 years. I gave her everything she wanted, I gave her that stupid baby, and she threw it all back in my face." Max stormed in, grabbing Lukas by the collar and holding him up against the wall.

"You shut the fuck up. You trapped her because you knew that she was going to leave you, you needed her more than she needed you and you know that. How little of a man are you that you would call your daughter stupid? Like I said, you never deserved either of them." Max shoved him once more before leaving, ready to get all of yours and Romy's stuff and taking it back to his apartment. He meant what he said - And if it meant that if you and your daughter had to stay with him for a while as you got on your feet again, then that would be fine. Max loved Romy, and if it meant that he could spend time with her on the breaks and off season while you worked, then that would be fine.

Romy giggled as you groaned, kicking her feet up at you as you tried to place the pink socks over her little feet. You were already late to meet Max's friend, and your daughter's insistence on not putting her socks on was making you later.

"Romy, my love, if you don't let mama put your socks on then you have to wear your crocs," You spoke mainly to yourself, you didn't think your 7 month old baby would be able to comprehend such a sentence, but she heard the words socks and crocs and immediately felt excitement, already kicking her little legs at the prospect of her favourite shoes. "Oh, so you want to wear your crocs. I wish you could talk already, Romy bear, it would make mama's life so much easier," You spoke, digging around the small bag you had packed to look for her small crocs. Finally, you found them, quickly slipping them over her small feet, grabbing a diaper bag quickly to slip over your shoulder, and picking Romy up, holding her at your hip as you hurriedly left Max's apartment.

You quickly buckled her into her car seat, making sure she was secure before hurriedly making your way to the cafe where Max had told you to meet Charles. You weren't sure what your older brother was thinking about, was he setting you up with the Monegasque, or was he just trying to get you out to socialise? You weren't sure if you were ready to be in another relationship yet, 3 years with Lukas had taken their toll on you and now you just wanted to spend some time with your baby. The cafe was quiet, tucked away from the busyness of Monte Carlo as not to overwhelm you on what could have been your first time out being social with Romy. You pulled into a parking space, quickly jumping out of your car and lifting your daughter out of her car seat, holding her tight at your hip as you hurriedly made your way inside.

You spotted Charles quickly, smiling at him as he spotted you. He hadn't changed much from what you remembered, but then again, you had blocked out most of your childhood - Those weren't things that you wanted to remember. Then again, you had seen him only 8 months ago, just before you gave birth to Romy; However, it pained you when you realised that the first 6 months of your daughter's life had been a blur, you were simply focused on keeping the two of you alive and away from the harm that her father could cause to either of you.

"Hi," You greeted him, smiling as he stood up to gently embrace you, kissing both of your cheeks. "Sorry that I'm late, someone didn't want to wear socks so we had to go with crocs with her pretty pink dress." You smiled once more, tickling Romy's stomach. Charles smiled at her and then at you - From what he had heard from Max recently, he didn't understand how you could still smile, life had dealt you the cruelest of cards, yet here you were, smiling away with your baby in your arms.

"It's alright, I brought a high chair over for her," He gestured to the seat which sat at the side of the two for you and him, making you smile at his thoughtfulness. "I know it is probably a silly question, but how are you doing?" He asked, watching as you placed Romy in the high chair, strapping her in so she couldn't wiggle out and hurt herself.

"Um...I don't really know, I've just sort of been on autopilot for a bit, I'm just relieved to be gone from him, for both of us," You told him, feeling weight coming off of your shoulders - You had spent the past hours telling Max that you were fine, you didn't want to worry your older brother anymore than you already had for most of your life. "How are you after the breakup?" Charles shrugged but smiled sadly.

"Fine, it had to happen - We weren't good for each other anymore," Charles felt like he was almost rubbing salt in your wound, bragging about how easy it was for him to leave an unhealthy relationship while you were stuck in one for years. "But anyway, would you like a drink? Tea or coffee?" He offered you, standing to head to the counter.

"Just tea please," You smiled, watching as Charles made his way to the counter to order for you and himself. He came back soon enough, with two pastries on the side. "What's this?" You asked him, tilting your head as you poured the milk into your tea.

"Oh, Max told me that it was your favourite like...forever ago, I didn't know what else to get you, I thought that Romy might like it too," He smiled at you and the Romy, who grinned at Charles and reached for him. "What do you want little one? Tell Cha," He spoke to her so naturally, it made you smile.

"I think that she wants a cuddle, Charles," You smiled at him, watching as he blushed. "You've held a baby before, yes? But you don't have to if you don't want to, no pressure," You said, unstrapping Romy from the high chair and holding you in her arms. She continued to fuss and reach for the Monegasque, whimpering in your arms as she reached out for him. "Shhh, just calm down my little love." You soothed her, looking to Charles to silently ask him whether he wanted to hold your daughter or not.

"Yes, of course, I'll hold her," Charles reached out to hold her in his arms, and you watched in amazement as Romy immediately settled into Charles' arms - She had only ever settled for you, on occasion Max; not even for Lukas, not that he had ever taken anything to do with his daughter. "She's so cute, Y/N. Looks so much like her mama," He whispered the last part, thinking you hadn't heard - The blush on your cheeks proved otherwise.

"I'm just shocked that she settled down for you, she's a little bit fussy with who she likes to hold her," You smiled, Charles was a natural with Romy, holding her on his lap. He smiled back at you, gently bouncing her on his knee, the two of you laughing at she giggled. "She must really like you, Charles." You told him, seeing a gentle blush creep across his face.

"Well, I really like Romy too," He said, both to you and to the baby on his lap.

The two of you chatted together, recounting the more happier memories you had of him from your childhood, and how you had missed seeing him around the paddock but looked forward to seeing him more now you were living with Max.

He told you how he was looking forward to seeing you and Romy around the paddock. "I'd love to spend more time with the two of you" Charles told you, making you stutter over your words. "I'm sorry, that might have been a bit too upfront," He said, looking away from you as he rubbed small circles on Romy's back.

"No, no, it's not that, I um...I'd like to do this again, it's been really nice, Charles." You told him, a grateful smile on your face as you appreciated the company of the Monegasque. "I should probably get going, Max is going to wonder where we are." He nodded, frowning as Romy whimpered at the loss of his contact, but smiling as he saw her contentedly cuddle into you.

"Of course, mon cher. Please let me know when you get home," You nodded and smiled, the two of you leaving the small cafe. Charles came to your car with you, watching as you strapped Romy into her carseat.

"Of course, thank you so much for this Charles, I really enjoyed it," You quietly closed the rear door, hoping not to disturb your daughter.

"Me too, I hope to see the two of you again soon."

Carrying your sleeping daughter in your arms, you made your way into Max and Kelly's apartment, the two of them waiting on the couch to hear about how your day with Charles had gone.

"I'll tell you two how it went after I feed her, I promise, she screamed the entire way home," You told them hurriedly, carrying a sniffling Romy into the room which was slowly resembling something that could look like yours. Max and Kelly had spent the afternoon trying their best to make it as personal for you as possible as a way to try and make you feel like this was a safe place for you and Romy. You got comfy on the bed, taking your shirt off and slipping down your bra, sighing in relief as she latched onto you - You had bottle fed her while out with Charles, you had been too nervous to feed her out in public, especially with Charles there.

It was strange, it felt like a way to decompress - A way to focus on something else other than the thoughts of Charles running through your head. The thoughts of how naturally he held Romy and how he spoke to her, thoughts of how when you were buckling her into the car seat, his hand rested gently on the small of your back. Thoughts of how he looked at you so intently. You switched Romy around, letting her feed until she fell asleep, comfortable against your chest. Gently, you lifted her off of you, clasping your bra and putting your shirt back on, laying her down in her next to me bed. You sighed, running your fingers gently down her face and smiling, watching your daughter sleep peacefully.

You closed the door quietly as you made your way out to the living room, sitting yourself between Kelly and Max, the older woman putting her arm around you - You knew that Kelly had a soft spot for you, and especially for Romy; she was forever telling you how much of a great mother you were, especially now since you were on your own - she knew that feeling all too well.

"So, how did it go?" Max asked you, a grin on his face as he watched you lean against Kelly - He was glad that the two of you had gotten along. You smiled as you recounted your afternoon with Charles.

"It went really well, we just talked for a bit and he held Romy for a bit too because she was getting fussy - He's so good with her," You cited, a smile on your face. Kelly gave Max a knowing look, your experience sounded a lot like how she felt taking Penelope to meet Max for the first time. "I think we're gonna do it again." Max smiled, after everything you'd gone through, socialising would be good for you - Even if it was with known womaniser Charles Leclerc. But Max knew you'd been through worse than Charles, but Max also knew that Charles knew Max would kill him if he broke your heart.

"That's good, kleine zusje, it sounds like it went well for both of you." You nodded and yawned, it felt like you hadn't stopped since last night and it was all catching up with you now. Max pouted as you curled into Kelly, you'd come in with your baby and stolen his girlfriend! Kelly grinned at Max, gently running her fingers through your hair as you fell asleep.

Now, normally, Max would have told you to run as far from Charles Leclerc as possible - But following Charles' breakup with Alex, he was almost certain that Charles would benefit from a more social relationship rather than jumping from disaster relationship from disaster relationship. He knew that you, generally, just needed a social relationship - Outside of him, Kelly, and your sister Victoria, you didn't really have many friends; thanks to the social isolation put upon you by Lukas.

So maybe, just maybe, you and Charles could be good for each other.

Taglist! Wanna Join? Fill out the form!

@thevintagegirlsworld @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @luvr4miya @divanca2006 @mrsjamietartt @dog-and-cat-person230 @stressed-cherry @freyathehuntress @suns3treading @hc-dutch

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader comfort #verstappen!reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc x verstappen!reader

1K notes · View notes

inkskinned · 2 years ago

Text

i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

#does this even MAKE SENSE!!!!!#writeblr #btw what im trying to express in that first sentence is EXPLICITLY the feeling of logging off therapy to immediately go back to work #like :) haha!

14K notes · View notes

flwrstqr · 8 months ago

Text

FALLING IN LOVE ACCIDENTALLY (OR NOT) (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: babysitting wasn't your dream job that you always wanted. as you start babysitting a new girl, lee jihyeon, you meet her older brother, lee heeseung. You end up getting closer and closer to heeseung and ultimately fall in love amidst the chaos.

pairing: bad boy!heeseung x babysitter!reader

genre: s2l, babysitter au, romance, fluff, angst, medium fic

warning(s): parties, cursing, fighting, mentions death, small grammar errors, crying, some angst scenes, kissing, reader and heeseung has a year age gap

word count: 5k+

AN: guys im back with a medium fic!! lowkey this wasn't really the it vibe as the end i feel like was kind of rushed. so if i made any grammar errors im sorry TT, i finished this writing in like 2-3 days so it was kind of hard so. but liz + hye for helping me think of a climax. i kind of got this idea for a POV on tiktok so help

AGE 21, THE SUPPOSED GOLDEN YEARS OF LIFE, or so they say. But for you, it's far from golden. Being a babysitter at this age isn't exactly glamorous; it's probably one of the last jobs you'd expect to have.

"Yunah, I'm heading out to my new client's place, okay?" you call out before leaving the door.

"Okay, just be safe!" Yunah shouts back from her room down the hallway. You close the door behind you and hurry out as usual, pulling out your notepad to review your schedule for the day:

8:00 am: Wake up 8:30 am: Go grocery shopping with Moka for breakfast 9:30 am: Have breakfast 9:45 am: Prepare for the new kid 10:30 am: Leave the house 10:45 am: Arrive at the client's house 1:00 pm: Leave the client's house

You quietly close your notepad and mentally rehearse what to say as you settle onto the bus. Upon reaching your stop, you make your way to the house.

The house is painted in soft beige and cream, with a porch ceiling resembling a clear blue sky on a sunny day. A wind chime gently sways, welcoming visitors with its melodic tinkling. You ring the doorbell and wait.

A boy around your age answers, with dark red hair and deer-like features. His ear piercings catch your attention as he regards you with an intense stare.

"Hi, I'm here for Jihyeon. Lee Jihyeon," you say, your words stumbling slightly under his gaze. "I'm her babysitter. YN LN."

"Oh, Jihyeon's upstairs," he replies with a shrug, ushering you inside.

Inside, the entrance feels airy and bright, with a faint scent of coffee lingering in the kitchen. Making your way upstairs, you come to a door adorned with pink letters and heart and flower stickers, reading "LEE JIHYEON." You knock, and a small girl, around six years old, opens the door.

"Hi," she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. "Are you a princess here to take me to princess school?"

You chuckle softly. "You can think that if you want. I'm YN. Your new friend," you introduce yourself, crouching down to her eye level.

"Are you here to babysit me?" Jihyeon asks as she lets you enter her room.

"More than babysitting, I'll be your new friend," you reassure her with a smile.

"Really?" Jihyeon's eyes light up. "I've wanted a friend for a while, but I don't have any at school." She quickly covers her mouth, realizing what she's said, and closes the door abruptly.

"Jihyeon?" you raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Sorry, my brother doesn't know. If he found out, he might cause trouble at my school," Jihyeon explains, pouting as she joins you.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, Heeseung," Jihyeon beams, kicking her legs as she sits. "I love him a lot."

You smile at her innocence. "How old is your brother?"

"22!" Jihyeon exclaims. "He's like 16 years older than me, but he's a great brother."

"I see. How about we start playing now?" you suggest, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jihyeon as she jumps up to grab her toys.

"YN, COME ON! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO YEJI’S PARTY!" Minju exclaims as she peeks into your room. Her mouth slightly drops as she sees your outfit. "Trying on the new dress you got?"

You nodded, turning to her. "Does it look okay? Not too over-the-top?"

Twirling to inspect yourself in the mirror, the knee-length black velvet dress hugged your figure, adorned with delicate black lace and a soft touch.

"You look stunning," Minju beamed, adding the final touch by placing a diamond necklace around your neck.

"Thanks, Minju," you said, pulling her into a hug.

"Anything for you, YN. Now come on, let's go to the party. Yunah is complaining about how long we're taking," Minju laughs, quickly letting go of the embrace before taking your hand and dragging you to the car.

As you get into the car, the six of you start driving to the party, blasting music and enjoying your life. When you arrive, the club is crazy loud. The noise from the DJ speakers vibrates throughout the room, friend groups dancing in circles, and couples making out in the back. Your shoulders tense as you scan the room. You walk over to the bar to get a quick drink before joining the party.

Feeling awkward and out of place, you shuffle around while holding your drink. You glance around and make eye contact with Moka, who is sitting with a group of people. She signals for you to join them, but you shake your head no and excuse yourself to the bathroom. As you wash your hands and return to the party, you come face to face with the one girl you wished you never saw again: Yoonhee, the girl who bullied you in high school for being "poor."

"Oh look, it's YN LN!" she gives a small fake smile. "Didn't expect to see you at Yeji's party tonight."

"What do you want, Yoonhee," you glare.

"Nothing, I'm just giving you a pleasant greeting. Nothing more," she laughs, triggering flashbacks from when you were 17.

"Then get out of my way, Yoonhee," you spat.

"Woah, no need to get so aggressive," she gives a proud smile. "I heard you were babysitting. How's it like to be poor?"

That was your last straw. You grab the nearest drink and throw it at Yoonhee's white dress. Her eyes widen as she sees the purple punch juice on her dress. Her eyes then narrow as she stares at you.

"Do you know how much this cost? This dress cost $5,270. Now you have to pay for that," she says angrily.

"Fuck off, Yoonhee. You're still the same. No wonder you have no friends," you yell before turning around and running out of the nearest exit.

You burst out into tears, knowing you were sober. You walk yourself to the nearest bus station, sobbing silently as you wipe your tears. Each step gets heavier as your heels start to burn and your bare knees and calves shiver from the cold.

“Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks. It's a voice that sounds so familiar. A voice that you swore you heard before. You look up to meet the same boy back at Jihyeon’s house. The boy with those deer-like features and dark red hair, with the same exact piercings.

"You’re the guy from Jihyeon's house," you try to piece his name together as only in your mind was the incident with Yoonhee and you.

"Heeseung, and you are?" he asks, noticing your teary eyes.

"YN," you reply, wiping your tears.

Heeseung then notices how you're shivering from the cold. He takes off his jacket and drapes his jacket over your shoulders

"Here, you can take this. Do you need a ride or anything? Do you have someone picking you up?" he asks.

"Yunah, Moka, and Minju are still there. They're my friends," you sniffle. "But I was walking myself to the bus station."

“Still there?” He raises his eyebrow.

“At the party,” you mumbled.

"If you want, I can take you home," Heeseung suggests.

"How do I know you're not a kidnapper," you tease with a pout.

Heeseung laughs softly. "Do you think I am?"

"Maybe," you reply.

"Trust me, I won't. Plus, what's the worst thing I can do?" Heeseung smiles.

"Weird stuff," you say.

"I won't. Where do you live?" he asks.

"Okay, that's a bit off," you reply teasingly.

"Hey..." Heeseung says in a half-joking, half-serious tone.

"Fine, I'll tell you the direction, you drive the car," you respond.

"Oh, who said it was a car?" Heeseung winks as he walks you over to his motorcycle.

Your eyes widen. "A motorcycle? Also, I need a helmet?"

"Wear mine," he grins, handing you his helmet before helping you hop onto the back. You hold him tightly as he starts his engine.

As you clutch onto his leather jacket, he speeds up, and you squeeze your eyes closed, afraid of falling. When you open them again, you admire the midnight sky, feeling the cold breeze hug you warmly. When you arrive back at the dorm, you wave goodnight to Heeseung before he turns around.

"Can I get your number?" he asks.

"Sure," you grin, inserting your number into Heeseung's phone. You wink and then turn around to walk back into your dorm.

THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, and Jihyeon's sweet smile welcomes you in. She bounds up with excitement, leading you upstairs to her room.

"Where's your brother, Jihyeon?" you ask, your tone light. You steal a glance at your bag, where Heeseung's neatly folded and laundered jacket rests.

"He's out or something," Jihyeon shrugs, already eager to show off her new toy.

As time flies by, you and Jihyeon play together as usual. She cherishes your time together, and as you help prepare lunch, the two of you chat.

"Jihyeon, are your parents not home?" you inquire, placing the grilled cheese she requested onto a plate.

"They're not here," Jihyeon replies between bites of her sandwich, causing your eyes to widen slightly.

"I see," you murmur softly, tucking a strand of Jihyeon's hair behind her ear as she takes another big bite.

"That's why Heeseung is always out. He's always looking for a babysitter for me because I'm only 6. So, I want you to be my permanent babysitter!" Jihyeon beams, savoring each taste of her grilled cheese.

"I'll always be here for you, Jihyeon," you smile back, admiring her cute expression. "How about after this, we play some fun games?"

"Yes, please!" Jihyeon's face lights up with a huge smile as she takes the last bite of her grilled cheese. You then tidy up with her and quickly take her hand as you step outside to play together.

"DOES THIS LIP TINT LOOK OKAY?" you inquire of Wonhee, who was browsing through the new makeup offerings at the mall. She looks up, observing the tester product on your hand.

"Hmm, maybe a slightly lighter shade," Wonhee suggests before joining you to explore more makeup options. You pick up another lip tint, testing it out before making your purchase and leaving the store.

"YN?" a voice calls out your name. You glance up to see Heeseung waving at you.

"Oh, Heeseung," you respond with a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here at the mall."

"My friend works at the café on the first floor, so I thought I'd pay a visit," Heeseung explains. "Are you here alone?"

"No, I'm here with—" you begin, but your voice is interrupted by Wonhee rushing over to you.

"YN! I finally decided to buy the new eyeshadow palette!" Wonhee exclaims, then she notices Heeseung. "Oh, do you know him?"

"Heeseung, Jihyeon’s older brother," you introduce, as Heeseung gives a small wave. "He's a year older than me."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Heeseung says, shaking Wonhee's hand.

"I'm Wonhee, YN's best friend or roommate, well, one of her roommates," Wonhee smiles.

"Nice to meet you," Heeseung replies, before turning back to you. "Well, gotta go so have a good time with your friend, pretty girl." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise at his affectionate nickname as he walks off to the first floor, hands in his pockets.

"God, he's definitely into you, YN!" Wonhee giggles, noting your shocked expression.

"Shut up, Wonhee!" you exclaim.

"Just saying!" Wonhee laughs.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE YOU FIRST MET HEESEUNG, but it was that one night that really caught your attention. After a long day of babysitting, you decided to take a leisurely stroll around the park before heading back to your dorm.

The night was tranquil, nearly 9 pm, and the crisp air refreshed you as you walked. As you approached your usual alleyway, the sound of punches and kicks pierced the calm. Your heart raced with nervousness as you wondered what was happening. Was it a hallucination, or...?

Turning the corner, you were shocked to see Heeseung amidst a group of boys. Quickly, you ducked behind a wall, watching in disbelief. Why was he in a fight?

Straining to hear their conversation, you caught Heeseung shouting, "You owe me $1,000. I won the bet," just before another punch landed on his face. Your heart sank at the sight of his swollen lips and bruised eye.

"Who cares about the bet? You messed with us, you’re dead," a boy sneered, delivering another blow.

"Leave him alone!" you finally mustered the courage to intervene, emerging from your hiding spot.

The boy mocked, "Oh look, is it your girlfriend, Heeseung? If you’re a stray cat trying to get your boyfriend out of trouble, you're out of luck."

In a burst of anger, you threw your purse at the boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Another boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the scene.

"What did you say?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing.

As the tension escalated, you kicked the taunting boy hard in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Want to say that again?" you glared. "Fuck off and find something better to do with your time."

The boy slowly looking a bit scared quickly ran off through the alleyways as his friends tagged along with him.

“So…” you began tentatively, noticing Heeseung’s bleeding lip.

“Sorry for all of that,” Heeseung apologized sincerely.

“Let's talk later. For now, let's get you patched up,” you replied, swiftly leading him to the nearby convenience store to grab a first aid kit.

"HOW DID YOU EVEN END UP IN THAT FIGHT?" you inquire as the two of you settle in at the park. You pull out a tube of scar gel, uncapping it and listening intently as Heeseung explains.

"Well, I made a bet for $1,000 and won, so I got dragged into the whole brawl," Heeseung shrugs. "It's just the usual."

"Usual?" your eyebrow raises as you first cleanse the scar with an alcohol wipe.

"Ouch, that stings," Heeseung winces as you then pat it dry with a tissue. "Yeah, it's kind of normal for me... ouch."

"Then maybe you shouldn't do it; it's dangerous," you respond, leaning in closer to apply the medicine. Heeseung's heart thumps as he watches you approach. You can feel his breath against your skin, and his cheeks flush as your fingers touch his skin. Why does his stomach feel like it's doing somersaults?

You affix a small bandage as a finishing touch. "There."

"Thanks," Heeseung smiles. "So, where were you?"

"Babysitting for another kid today," you shrug, quickly disposing of the bandage wrapper and tidying up your first aid kit.

"I see," Heeseung replies, helping you clean up. "I can walk you home if you want?"

"I'll walk," you smile.

"I could walk with you part of the way," Heeseung suggests, falling into step beside you. You both gaze at the glimmering stars, admiring them from afar.

"You know," you start, "Jihyeon mentioned something about your parents."

Heeseung's gaze drops as he stares at the ground, his smile fading slightly. He looks at you. "She did?"

You nod, meeting Heeseung's eyes. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened?"

"Well..." Heeseung pauses, contemplating for a moment before continuing. "My parents died in a car crash. They were returning from a movie, and they never really got to say goodbye to us. I guess my biggest regret was not saying goodbye before they left. I was just being stubborn and angry because they scolded me for getting a bad grade."

You listen attentively. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. It's all in the past now. It happened about five years ago, and I barely remember it," Heeseung shrugs.

"I hope things have gotten better since then," you smile.

"Thanks, YN," he gives you a grateful look.

"Anyway, thanks for walking me. Hopefully, we can talk again later," you wave goodbye before heading towards your apartment building.

"YN, COULE YOU PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A DRESS-UP TEA PARTY?" Jihyeon pleads with a cute pout, coaxing you into her playful scheme.

"Alright, fine…" you reluctantly agree, watching as Jihyeon's face lit up with a wide smile before she hurriedly led you to her room to fetch tiaras and dresses.

"This dress is from Mommy's room, so you can wear it," Jihyeon grin mischievously, confessing how she got it without her brother's knowledge. You examine the dress—a simple white garment with puffy sleeves adorned with intricate lace, reaching knee-length.

After changing in the bathroom, you admire your reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, the dress fit perfectly, accentuating your features.

Emerging from the bathroom, you found Jihyeon holding two tiaras, dressed in her own fancy pink attire. She hands you a tiara, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she helps you place it on your head.

"Let's go! It's tea party time!" she exclaims, leading you to the dining table where she arranged fake tea cups. Pouring imaginary "tea" into your cup, you play along, enjoying the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes observed from the doorway. "A tea party without me?" a teasing voice remark, revealing Heeseung, in his usual leather jacket and jeans, his smile widening as he saw you. His gaze linger on you appreciatively, taking in the sight of the borrowed dress.

"Heeseung!" Jihyeon exclaims, rushing into his arms.

"How are you, Jihyeon?" Heeseung greets, lifting her up gently.

"Why are you home so early?" Jihyeon inquire.

"Just needed to grab something upstairs," Heeseung replies with a grin. "Could you fetch my phone and wallet, Jihyeon? I need to chat with YN."

"Sure!" Jihyeon agreeing, scampering off to fulfill his request.

"YN…" Heeseung's gaze softened as he admires your appearance in the dress. "You look beautiful."

"I hope it's not inappropriate or disrespectful cause Jihyeon let me borrow it…" you began, but Heeseung quickly reassuring you.

"No, it's fine. You should keep it. It suits you really well," he insisted

"Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.

"Absolutely," Heeseung affirm, his smile unwavering. "By the way, are you free next Friday evening? Jihyeon will be with her aunt, and I thought maybe we could grab dinner together."

"Ah, is someone asking me out?" you tease, accepting his invitation with a smile.

Heeseung chuckles. "Guilty as charged. See you next Friday then. Feel free to continue your tea party," he added with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes. Jihyeon returned with Heeseung's belongings, bidding him farewell as he left the house once more.

"WHY AM I SO NERVOUS…" you whisper to yourself in the bathroom before a ding dong at the door interrupts your thoughts. "I'LL GET IT!" you shout, hastily opening the door to find Heeseung standing there, clad in a white blouse with the first two buttons undone and black pants.

"I hope I’m not too early?" Heeseung grins.

"Perfect timing," you reply with a small smile. "I'LL BE BACK SOON!" you call out to your friends before exiting the house.

Outside, Heeseung's motorcycle awaits, and you sit on it, securing your helmet as he starts the engine. Arriving at the restaurant, he assists you off the bike, taking your hand and leading you inside. As you settle at a table, you quickly peruse the menu and place your order, leaving time for conversation.

"I noticed something unique about Jihyeon," you begin. "Unlike most kids who prioritize toys, she seems more…mature, especially in her care for you."

"Hm?" Heeseung looks intrigued.

"She's genuinely thoughtful and responsible, almost like she was raised exceptionally well," you add, earning a nod from Heeseung.

"You also strike me as a great brother," you compliment, noticing a faint blush on Heeseung's cheeks as he looks away, taking a sip of water to compose himself.

"Thanks," he responds, attempting to maintain his composure.

As the conversation flows, your food arrives, and after enjoying the meal, you take a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way.

"Yunah is more of a 'clumsy older sister' than an organized one," you remark.

"I could gather that from your stories," Heeseung chuckles, then pauses, "Your shoes... they're untied." He bends down to quickly tie your shoelaces, and inexplicably, your heart begins to race. Why the sudden flutter in your stomach?

"T-thanks," you stutter, "H-how about we head back home now? It's getting late, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," Heeseung nods, masking how he was blushing too.

YOU LIE IN YOUR BED, STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking of all the times you've spent with Heeseung. All the times you babysat Jihyeon and he would always stop by and wave at you. All the time he would do small things to make your heart thump loudly. All the rides you took on his motorcycle. The scent of his leather jacket when you first met him after the party. All of that was nearly 4-5 months ago. Now here you are, lying down and thinking about Heeseung all night, memories keeping you up until 4 am.

“Do you think I’m in love?” you ask Iroha.

“I think you are,” Iroha responds with a smile. “You always talk about Heeseung, and he treats you really well.”

You pause and ponder Iroha’s words, contemplating what it truly means to you. Were all those butterflies in your stomach a sign of love? What even is love?You gaze out the window, reflecting for the last time. Now you realize it, Iroha was right. You are truly deeply in love with the one and only Lee Heeseung

“YN, YOU’RE ZONING OUT AGAIN.” Jihyeon pouts as you gaze out the window for the fourth time.

“Sorry, Jihyeon. Where were we in the play?” you try to give a small smile that hopefully Jihyeon would forgive.

“We were where the prince confessed to the princess!” Jihyeon exclaims.

Confess. The word pops up in the brain as you try to gain your focus back, “Right.” You whisper before then zoning out again. God, why was Heeseung taking your whole mind?

You quickly snap back to reality, “Sorry—so basically the princess confesses to the prince of how much she loves him. How much she makes her get butterflies in her stomach. The way he gives her jacket and talks to her all the time..” You continue on as your mind is only about Heeseung. All the stuff you were saying perfectly described him.

“You know this kind of sounds like my brother,” Jihyeon says, as she plays with her dolls.

“Huh?” you look up from talking.

“Is it?” Jihyeon asks.

“Uhm..” you hesitate.

“It is.” Jihyeon replies, reading your expression, “it’s okay cause I have my mouth shut.” She grabs her fingers and pretends to zip her mouth close as you laugh at her cuteness. But she wasn’t wrong, everything you said was about Heeseung. Everything in your mind right now was Heeseung.

YOU AND YUNAH SETTLE INTO A cozy corner at the bustling café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling in the air. Thoughts of Heeseung, the boy who occupies far too much space in your mind, tug at your attention.

"I’m going to the bathroom," you say, forcing a smile as you make your way to the bathroom. Inside the dimly lit space, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your thoughts.

But as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but overhear a conversation from the other side of the bathroom.

"Heeseung definitely likes me. Like in Lee Heeseung," a voice boasts confidently. "Remember that one day he kissed me once. He's my type too."

Your heart skips a beat as the words sink in, a wave of shock and betrayal washing over you. Why did you think he likes you? Why did you like him?

You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threaten to escape. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of heartbreak.

With trembling hands, you splash cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Yunah again. You can't let her see you like this, can't bear to let her witness the shattered remnants of your heart.

Summoning every ounce of strength you have left, you force yourself to leave the bathroom. Yunah's concerned gaze meets yours, and you offer her a weak smile.

"I'm not feeling well," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should go home."

Yunah's brow furrows with worry, and she reaches out to touch your arm. But you pull away gently, offering her a reassuring smile.

"I'll be okay," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I just need some rest."

With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Yunah and make your escape from the café. Once outside, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sobbing your eyes, you make your way back home with a broken heart.

"YN, COME ON. HE’S SUCH A JERK" Wonhee consoles you as she wipes away your tears for what feels like the fifth time this week.

"He completely played me," you sob, feeling the weight of betrayal. "I thought there was something between us, but turns out he's just the brother of a kid I babysit. Why did I even like him?"

"YN…" Moka's voice is gentle as she squeezes your hand, "Please don't talk like that. What if there's a misunderstanding?"

"They mentioned 'Lee Heeseung,' it's obviously him," you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.

"Well, why waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it?" Minju interjects.

"Minju's got a point," Wonhee agrees, "He's not worth your tears. He's just a player."

"But I can't help it, I think I love him," you admit, feeling torn.

"But Heeseung doesn't strike me as the type to play with someone's feelings like that. He's a good guy," Yunah suggests optimistically. "Maybe there's more to the story that you don't know."

"I don't even know anymore," you murmur, wiping your eyes. "All I know is I can't face anyone for the next week. I might even cancel all my plans. I just can't bear to see him right now."

HEESEUNG SAT AT HIS DESK, his mind consumed with worry. It had been a week since you abruptly canceled all your plans, and he hadn't heard from you since. His messages were delivered for nearly a week and according to Iroha, you hadn't left your house in days.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. Jihyeon stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes filled with concern.

"Heeseung, are you okay?" she asked softly, her small voice breaking through his anxious mind.

Heeseung forced a smile, trying to hide his emotion, "I'm fine, Jihyeon. Just a little tired."

Jihyeon frowned, unconvinced by his reassurance. "But you've been pacing around your room all day, and you haven't touched your food," she pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't hide anything from Jihyeon; she always saw right through him.

"I'm just worried about someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jihyeon's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is it YN?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it's YN. I haven't heard from her in days, and I'm starting to get really worried."

Jihyeon's expression softened, and she took a tentative step forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Heeseung. I'm sure she's okay. Maybe she just needs some time alone."

Heeseung wanted to believe her, but the nagging worry in the back of his mind refused to go away. "Hopefully."

Suddenly, Jihyeon's eyes lit up with excitement, as if she had just remembered something important. "Hey, Heeseung, do you like YN?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the question, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I…uh…what makes you ask that?"

Jihyeon shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "YN may have told me that you give her butterflies and so many other things"

Heeseung's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. You liked him? The realization filled him with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in days.

"I need to go find YN."he said, his voice choking with emotion.

THE NIGHT HUNG HEAVY WITH SILENCE. Tears streamed down your cheeks; the clock ticked, marking the passing of time as you sat alone in your room.

The sudden creak of the window startled you, and you turned to see Heeseung framed against the moonlit sky. His presence sent a jolt of surprise through you.

"Heeseung?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words to say. "YN, I…," he started, but his voice faltered as he struggled to find the courage to speak.

"What are you doing here, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice betraying the hurt and confusion.

Heeseung took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tears staining your cheeks. "YN, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice with genuine worry.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his question,"Why do you care, Heeseung?" you snapped, your voice sharp"After everything that's happened, why do you even bother?"

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, YN? What happened?" he asked.

The anger inside you boiled over, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. "You like another girl," you said, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "You kissed her,"

Heeseung's face looked puzzled, his eyes with confusion"YN, it's not what you think," he started, but you cut him off.

"Don't even bother, Heeseung," you said, your voice filled with resignation. "I know the truth now. I know that everything you did to me was just to play."

Heeseung's heart shattered at your words, "YN, please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice desperate. You shake your head no.

"YN, listen to me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of your quiet sobs. "Those are all false. I never kissed anyone. I don’t like anyone but…"

You turned to face him, the tears still streaming down your cheeks as you searched his eyes.

“But you. I like you, YN," Heeseung confessed, "More than I've ever liked anyone before."

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“I like you YN.” Heeseung confessed, before you could process anything

For a moment, the world fell away around you as he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Lips in sync, his hands snaking around your waist.

But all too soon, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside your room, and Heeseung pulled away, his eyes wide with panic. "YN, open the door, I brought tea," Yunah's voice called out. He realized that he was about to be caught, and he turned to you. Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours one last time.

As you stood there, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. He liked you. Heeseung Lee liked you back.

THE WARM GLOW OF THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED through the curtains, casting a soft light over the cozy living room. You sat beside him on the comfortable couch, next to Heeseung’s side as you watched a movie together.

Jihyeon sat on the floor in front of the TV, completely engrossed in the movie. Every so often, she would glance back at the two of you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she plotted her next adventure.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Is the movie good, angel?" he murmured, his voice soft with affection.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Mhmm, perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the movie played on, you found yourself drifting off, the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat and the noise of Jihyeon’s laughter.

When the movie finally came to an end, Jihyeon jumped up from her spot on the floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we play a game now?" she asked, bouncing up and down.

Heeseung chuckled at her enthusiasm, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Of course, Jihyeon," he said, shooting you a playful grin. "What do you want to play?"

Jihyeon's face lit up with delight as she rattled off a list of her favorite games, her energy infectious as she dragged the two of you into her world of make-believe. You and Heeseung played along with her antics, laughing and joking as you chased each other around the room, completely lost in the moment.

And as you watched Heeseung and Jihyeon, their laughter filling the air with joy, you knew that you would do anything to protect this precious moment, to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could.

1K notes · View notes

aurorawritestoescape · 4 months ago

Text

JOEL’S VISIT | Bad Blood Extra | 3,8k

Summary: Joel pays you a visit and makes your night unforgettable.

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel is in his late 40s), step uncle!Joel is a warning in himself, stepdad Tommy makes an appearance (kinda), fingering, ass play, anal, sex toy, spit as lube, pussy slapping, cum eating, creampie, degradation kink, praise kink, alcohol consumption, swearing.

A/n: written as a naughty bday present for my love @milla-frenchy 🥳 happy birthday, baby!😘🩷 ILY! Hope you’ll enjoy my little gift❤️ and Joel’s huge gift🍆🍑😏

Pics are only for the mood. Reader has no specific physical description. Reader wears a skirt. Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || Milla’s MASTERLIST

You step into your favorite bar in your college town and search for him. You notice the familiar broad shoulders far away from the crowd and saunter there, on the way turning heads of the other patrons but you don’t care about them. As if by a magnet you’re being pulled to the man, who’s sipping whiskey in a dark corner booth. Joel Miller.

You hate to admit it but you really missed the fucker. Missed his rough hands, his dirty words, his assholish attitude. No one else can make your blood boil like that but the hate you often feel towards him morphs into passion so fast that you wonder if your relationship is meant to be. As toxic as they are, you've never felt such a strong pull towards anyone. Except your stepdad Tommy of course.

Right now Joel’s in the dog house. You’re still fuming over his intention to fuck someone with the hard on YOU gave him. So you don’t sit next to him and instead settle in front of the man at the booth.

Joel looks up from his drink and a smirk tugs at his lips, shining with drops of whiskey.

“Hey, uncle Joel,” you greet him with a reserved smile. He’s wearing a denim vest with a white tank top underneath and his huge arms make your heart skip a beat. Why does he always look so delicious?

“Hello, angel.”

His eyes slide down to your lips and then cleavage, with your tits almost spilling out of your top by design. He adjusts himself before asking,

“Doncha wanna give your favourite uncle a kiss?”

“Not really,” you reply as your eyes are boring into him.

He huffs a laugh and rubs his scruffy cheek.

“Being a cold bitch doesn’t suit you, baby. I prefer you needy and with my cock between your pretty lips.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but your mouth waters at his words.

“It’s a health issue, Joel. I don’t wanna catch anything after you fucked every hole in Austin.”

Joel’s brows rise up and he leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you ogle his arms and shoulders.

“Oh, little slut’s jealous.”

You cross your arms making your breasts almost jump out of your top and lie,

“No, I‘m not.”

He narrows his eyes at you and takes a sip of his whiskey before talking again.

“Here’s a thing, angel. You can keep Tommy’s balls in a cute box under your bed. I don’t care. But ya definitely not getting mine.”

You scoff and he leans back against the seat.

“So let’s make it clear— I fuck whoever I want whenever I want.”

You clench your jaws as anger and jealousy squeeze your throat.

For some time you two sit in silence, the air between you electrified and heavy.

Finally Joel gets up with a grunt and you look up at him scared that he might leave, abandon you, but to your relief he comes up to your seat and plops down next to you. He turns to you slightly and puts his huge arm on the backrest behind you. He’s so close that it feels like a hug. His scent immediately envelops you and you gush as if on command.

“Look at me,” Joel gruffs but you keep staring ahead of yourself.

“Look. At. Me.”

The steel in his rumbling voice makes you throb and you turn your face to him, hiding your true emotions, your expression angry and cold.

“I’ve had a shitty day, angel. Don’t make it worse.”

He sounds serious and you furrow your brows with worry.

“What happened?”

Joel grabs his drink and finishes it. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and talks to the empty glass.

”Paid Jess a visit today. Tommy left some stuff at your… her house.”

“Why didn’t he go himself?” you ask, feeling a pang of sadness that Tommy didn’t tell you anything.

Joel laughs.

“I don’t think he wants to meet your dear mother. He fucked her daughter on their marital bed. She ain’t exactly waiting for him there with open arms.”

“And you? I’m sure she wasn’t happy to see you either.”

“I don’t give a fuck. The bitch can curse me out all she wants. Tommy’s just too good of a guy. Feels bad.”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Your gaze drops and you sit quietly, deep in your thoughts. Does Tommy feel bad about what happened? If so does he regret your relationship? Does he regret you?

“Hey,” Joel calls and you immediately look up at him, noticing a trace of softness in his voice. “Tommy asked me to give you something.”

“What?”

Joel turns to you more, his thigh presses against yours, and he brings his hand to your jaw. He pinches your chin and slowly leans down.

You slightly open your mouth, welcoming him, and he kisses you. In a second he’s licking into your mouth with passion, claiming you in front of everyone, and you melt, tasting whiskey and cigarettes on his hot tongue. He grabs the back of your head and devours your mouth, swallowing your needy whimpers as his other hand settles on your bare thigh, close to your naked pussy under the short skirt. He squeezes your leg and, feeling how much he wants you, you gush more. Your soft moans are drowned in a sea of chatter and music at the bar. It takes just a few seconds of this, of him, to make your pussy uncomfortably wet. Your core is crying for more and you open your legs wider, signaling him to touch you.

Joel’s plush lips part from yours as he mumbles,

“Here’s my needy slut.”

You reply with a flirty smile and press your body closer to his.

“Take me to a motel. Want you to fuck me like one of your cheap hookers.”

You drag your nose up his neck and Joel groans, roughly kneading your thigh.

“My sweet niece needs to get railed, uh? Dontcha have some fuck boy on standby at your dorm?

“I don’t cheat on daddy,” you whisper against his neck.

“Oh?”

”It’s ok if it’s you. It’s different.”

Joel huffs and then his expression gets serious.

”I can’t do motel today, baby. Need to get going.”

“Already?” you whine, pouting your lips.

“Yeah. Have work tomorrow. And if I get you all to myself in a room I won’t be able to stop fucking ya for at least a week.”

You smile and playfully bite the skin of his neck, before purring, “Sounds good.”

Your pussy is tingling for him and you desperately need to alleviate the ache.

“Please, Joel,” you sit straight and plead, batting your lashes at him. “I miss your big cock so much.”

Joel's wolfish grin makes your clit throb with the beat of your heart. Your tactics seem to work because he adjusts his big bulge and groans,

“My truck. Now.”

You can’t get up fast enough and then hurry to the exit, feeling Joel’s eyes on your swaying ass.

The parking lot is dark, illuminated only by one street light, and almost empty except for a few cars. Joel motions to his truck and you shiver when you walk there but not because of the cold. The culprit is an anticipation of his hands on your body, his cock deep inside you.

Before getting in you stop with your back to your step uncle.

”Wanna show you something.”

You bend over slightly and then lift your skirt. He sees your bare ass and you hear a whistle.

“Juicy.” He grabs your asscheeks but you swat his hands away.

“No, Joel. Wait.“

You push your ass out and spread your cheeks so he could see a pink jeweled butt plug, shaped like a heart.

“Fuck, angel, this for me? Been training your ass to take my big dick?

“Yeah. I thought you might miss it.”

You sigh when he presses his whole frame to yours. His big hands start kneading your naked cheeks and he licks the side of your neck and sucks a hickey into your delicate skin.

“Tommy asked me to leave this as a message for everyone.”

“What’s the message?” You breathe out, grinding your butt against Joel’s bulge.

“This pussy‘s taken. You’re ours.”

You moan, reveling in the possessiveness of the brothers and the sensation of Joel’s heavy body, pressing you against the truck, and you’re slowly but surely drenching your inner thighs. Soon the need overtakes any pride you have left.

“Fuck me, Joel. Fuck my ass. Please.”

“Sure, angel,” he growls, taking a step back, and pulls you off the truck. ”Inside. On your back.”

You do as you’re told, drunk with desire and excitement, and lie down on the faux leather seat at the back of the car. Joel settles between your thighs and throws your left ankle on his shoulder, opening you up for him.

“You often fuck here?” you ask, noticing how fast he found a comfortable position.

He replies with a smirk, “No, only on special occasions.”

You shoot him a playful wink.

“Aww. I’m flattered.”

“Ya should be. I’ll probably spend ages cleaning everything off your slick, little slut.”

“Fuck you,” you giggle and spread your thighs wider, as he grabs your hips and lifts them a little.

The hem of your skirt slides to your waist and Joel leers at your exposed pussy. In the almost dark car his eyes are glinting like those of a predator in a night forest. Your breath hitches as you marvel at his handsome features, accentuated by the dim yellow glow from the outside.

Joel seems to be mesmerized by you too.

“Here she is. Wet little pussy.”

He covers your cunt with his big hand and you shiver when his warm palm squeezes your cold folds.

A gasp crawls up your throat as Joel begins playing with your slippery cunt, drawing soft moans from you—he slides his fingers over your lips, massages your mound, lightly grazes your eager clit and when he lowers his hand and brushes the pink heart of your butt plug, you buck your hips, calling for him to take you.

His light ministrations feel so good you might cry but they are not enough to satiate your thirst so you yank the neckline of your top down and start kneading your naked breasts.

“Fuck, angel, never met anyone this horny and cock hungry.”

You don’t reply, fully lost in the sensations, but Joel demands your attention by flicking your clit and you cry out as a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through your body.

“Joelllll,” you whine but then a hazy smile blooms on your face and your step uncle notices it.

“How could I forget that my little niece likes a lil bit of pain with her pleasure? Dirty fucking girl.”

You smirk and Joel continues,

“I see you clenching your holes, baby. That pretty plug of yours nearly jumped out of your asshole. Let’s make it dance.”

Suddenly he slaps your pussy with an open palm and you whine,

“Fuck, Joel.” Your body jerks and all your muscles contract. His hot palm lands on your blooming cunt again and again, the strokes light but precise and sharp. Your soft moans fill the truck, sometimes interrupted by Joel’s encouragement.

“Doing good, angel— ya know ya deserve it—look at ya asshole sucking in the plug— your pussy’s winking at me—can ya come like that, baby?”

Through the lustful fog in your head, you barely register what he wants from you but when you do, your fingers start twitching your nipples, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

Slap—slap—slap, Joel spanks your slicked puffy folds and when his wet hand hits your clit just right, you cry out. Your head dips into the seat, your back arches as you come undone from Joel’s rough caress and he praises,

“Yeah, like that, angel. Good fucking slut.”

It takes you some time to stop trembling and when your limbs and body relax, you find Joel’s obsidian eyes drinking in every sign of your ecstasy.

“That was…Wow. Never came from spanking before.”

“‘s weird considering what a bratty bitch you can be. I’d think every second lover wants to slap your cunt.”

You smirk and flutter your eyes shut, still melting after experiencing such an incredible pleasure.

But they immediately snap open when you feel your butt plug move. You see Joel’s eyes glued to your puckered hole, held open by the jeweled toy.

“Joel?” Your voice is strained by the overwhelming sensation of the plug shifting its position inside you and you lift yourself on your elbows to see what he’s doing.

“I really missed your tight hole, angel. Very. Much.”

Joel empathizes each word by moving the plug in and out of your asshole. It glides smoothly, covered with lube and now your slick. You bite your lip, and whimper at the sight and feeling of your tight hole, stretching around the shiny head of the plug and then clamping around its base.

“Damn,” Joel mumbles to himself, as his fingers leave the plug and he begins unbuckling his belt. “Your asshole‘s drenched by your needy pussy. Might do without lube.”

“Yeah, Joel, fuck me raw. ‘s ok if it burns a little.”

“Shit, angel. Naughty slut. Look what ya doing to me.”

Joel unzips his jeans and tugs them down and your eyes are graced with the sight of his huge hard cock. The tip looks like a fat shiny lollipop and you almost drool seeing it bob over your naked cunt.

“Let’s replace the toy with something better, baby”.

Joel’s hand confidently wraps around the base of his stiff manhood while the other pulls on the plug. Your asshole clenches around it tightly, not letting it go, but Joel slowly slides it out and your ring closes.

Your chest is heaving with a mixture of excitement and nerves as Joel slides his cock between your soaked folds, wetting it, and then nudges your asshole with his leaking tip. He pushes in and you take a deep breath to relax but your hole is too tight.

“C’mon, little slut, relax for me.”

”Yeah,” you nod obediently and lie back down, looking up and trying to relax your muscles.

”‘s like that, open up for me, angel. You’ve taken me before.”

“Yeah, but … when I took your huge dick Tommy was there. He knows how to make me relax.”

You find Joel’s obsidian eyes, and then look down at his lips. The man scoffs.

“I ain’t gonna smooch ya forehead, baby. And ‘good girl’ for sure ain’t about you, little slut. So let’s try something else.”

Suddenly you feel Joel’s cock bump into your hardened clit. You whimper, hazy eyes locked with Joel’s, and he drops his head and starts drawing circles over your sensitive bud with his slippery tip.

“Ya like when I do this?”

”Yeah.”

“Good, breathe, baby. Unclench for me. Uncle wants to ruin your tight ass.”

He’s swirling your clit for some time and when the sensation of him, massaging your pussy, brings you close to the second climax, he slides his cock down to your crack and pushes into your tight ring.

With a gasp you feel your asshole give in as he inserts his mushroom head inside your ass, slowly but assertively. Your nails dig into the faux leather of the seat while Joel groans and closes his eyes and you watch his handsome weathered face twist in pleasure.

“Fuckkk,“ he growls and your heart sings, seeing him enjoy your body that much. Not minding the dull pain and the feeling of fullness, you whisper,

“Deeper, Joel. Want your whole cock in my ass.”

He opens his eyes and smirks at you,

“‘Course, angel. Gonna use you so good, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

His promise should probably make you nervous but lust has completely taken over your body and mind so you bend your legs and press them to your sides, submitting your body to him like an offering.

Joel’s huge hands grab your asscheeks, he spreads them and holds you open before rolling his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you.

He’s grunting and groaning while you’re breathing in and out steadily, opening up for him more and more. Letting him claim the deepest part of you.

Soon Joel bottoms out with a satisfied sigh and stops his movement.

“Look at that, angel. My dick’s fully inside ya ass.” His eyes are focused on the place where he’s sheathed inside you. ”Fuck, I’m so happy Tommy married your mother. It brought me here.”

He chuckles and drops his head back in pleasure and you lift on your elbows to see the way you are joined and watch your asshole flex around the base of his cock.

“Yeah, glad we met, Joel. Now can you please move?” You whine, desperately needing more. Joel doesn’t make you wait- he grabs your hips tighter and slowly pulls his cock out almost to the tip and then slams it back inside as you moan and grab onto the seat.

He starts off slow, rhythmically moving his stiffness inside your ass, then pulls out his glistening shaft half way out of you, spits on it, and plunges back in your canal. You moan as the wetness adds to the pleasure, coursing through your body, and soon your sweet sounds and Joel’s groans fill the inside of the truck.

You whine your step uncle’s name and your hand slithers down to your cunt.

“What is it, little slut? Aw, your needy pussy’s lonely,huh?”Joel mocks, through gritted teeth, and you gloat inside thinking that he must have a real hard time trying not to burst inside you.

But you decide to be a good girl for him so you bite your lip, pull your eyebrows together and nod.

“You’re cute, let’s fill your sloppy hole too then.”

Joel leans down and brings his index and middle fingers to your mouth.

“Make ‘em all nice and wet, angel.”

You smile and take his thick digits between your lips and lick them, glide your tongue over his skin, coating it in your saliva.

When Joel decides it’s enough, he pulls them out and straightens, slowing down his thrusts.

With his cock deep in your ass, he pushes two of his fingers into your crying pussy and you both watch both of your holes being spread wide around Joel.

“Fuck, I’m so full. Your fingers are like another cock inside me.”

“Ya welcome,” he mumbles and starts fucking both of your entrances— your ass with his cock, your pussy with his hand.

If you were enjoying yourself before now you’re in heaven.

“Yes, Joel, don’t stop,” you moan and the man growls in response. His thick and long cock in your ass takes so much room that your pussy channel feels tighter, his fingers stimulate you so much better, that in no time your walls start contracting around his fingers. Squelching sounds of your weeping cunt makes Joel fuck into your holes faster and soon you unravel under his ministrations, crying out his name and arching your back off the seat. You’re trembling all over, cock dumb, pleasure drunk, biting your puffy lips and leaving scratches on the seat.

When you relax and melt under the man, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and slowly thrusting into your ass, lets you clean them up.

”Lick it off, angel, be a good girl.”

You lazily taste yourself and then he covers your body with his, pressing you into the seat, his hips flush with your asscheeks.

“Gonna come soon, baby. Gimme some sugar.”

With that he kisses you passionately and begins hammering into your ass, reaching the deepest spot inside you, feverishly chasing his climax.

Seizing this moment of unity with him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him tight, while your tongues are moving against each other. You’re gladly letting him take everything from you and soon his muscles tense under your touch and he makes a few hard thrusts and then moans into your mouth and begins spurting ropes of hot cum inside you. He’s filling you up to the brim, his throbbing cock moving in and out of your tight canal, pushing his cum deeper into your stretched ass.

You’re nuzzling his cheek, tasting his skin with your tongue, and the overwhelming feelings in your chest make you forget your complicated relationship with the man stuffing you so well and you purr his name into his ear, softly, gently, pouring so much into these four letters. Joel locks eyes with you, while his cock still twitches inside you from time to time.

His gaze is relaxed, soft and satisfied, rid of the usual sharpness, mockery, guard.

Your throat squeezes and your breath hitches when you realize that you’re staring at someone else, someone deep inside Joel you know and before he disappears, hides behind the wall, you kiss him gently, hug him close, and he gives you all of that back.

A few minutes later Joel’s tucking his cock back into his jeans, groaning about your slick and scratches all over the seat. The asshole is back.

“Maybe ya wanna lick off your mess, angel?”

“Fuck off,” you snap, fixing your clothes, and then get into the front of the truck and carefully sit down on the passenger seat. Your ass is sore and plugged up again with Joel’s cum inside. ”A warm farewell gift for ya,” he laughed.

“Going raw was a mistake,” you complain with a hiss and watch him get behind the wheel with a lit cigarette between his lips.

“Take me to the dorm,” you command and Joel glares at you without moving.

“Please, uncle Joel,” you bat your lashes with exaggeration and he starts the car.

You immediately take out your phone and call Tommy.

“Hey, baby.”

“Daddy! Guess who just fucked my ass!” You chirp with excitement into the speaker.

You hear Tommy chuckling, Joel curses and smiles at you.

“I need the details, baby.”

You give Joel a wink and start talking.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST | Milla’s MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquent-dreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

596 notes · View notes

cookiescribble · 1 year ago

Text

Take Me Home

A/N: fun fact, I wrote this entire thing while i was sobering up after getting way too drunk at a friend's party. mod ghost can attest to this. - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend comes home drunk after girls’ night, and he helps take care of her while politely turning down her advances. (based on 7x16)

CW: mentions of alcohol and sex

~~~

Spencer was all too happy to take care of his godson. He didn’t even need a reason. So when JJ said they were having girls’ night, he really didn’t mind babysitting.

The girls came back late. Like, middle-of-the-night-into-early-morning late.

JJ unlocked the door and came into the house, trying to be as quiet as she could be so she didn’t wake anyone up. She thanked Spencer for babysitting.

“I really appreciate you watching my baby… and now you have to take care of your own baby” she snickered.

Spencer gave her a confused look until he saw his girlfriend stumbling in behind her. She gave him a big smile before tripping right into his arms. He stood her up as she continued giggling, trying to be quiet so she didn’t wake up the house.

“Hi, sweetheart!” She kept giggling and wrapped her arms around him, mostly to hold herself up, but also because she was happy to see him.

JJ patted Spencer on the shoulder. “She fell in the bathroom a couple hours ago. Good luck.”

He took a deep breath and gave JJ a little smile before escorting his girlfriend out the door and into his car. As he was buckling her in, she pulled on his collar a little and said, “you look extra nice tonight, is this a new outfit?”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, shutting the door and getting in the driver's seat. “It’s the same outfit I was in when you left 8 hours ago.” He started up the car and pulled out of the driveway.

She fidgeted in the seat a little as she looked at him. “No, I don’t remember you looking this good when I left…” she reached her hand out to place it on his thigh, smiling mischievously at him.

He cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the road. “That’s the alcohol talking. Did you know studies have shown that people who have consumed a moderate amount of alcohol find the faces of members of the opposite sex 25% more attractive than their sober counterparts?” He glanced at her again for a moment before adding, “and you’ve definitely consumed more than a moderate amount of alcohol, so you’re basically looking through rose-tinted glasses right now.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s not the alcohol. You’re just hot.” She continued to stroke along his thigh before he reached down and placed her hand in her lap, giving it a little squeeze before he let it go.

“You guys were out awfully late tonight. You know we have to go out in the morning, right?” He asked as he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment. He got out of the car before opening the passenger door and helping his girlfriend out of her seat and towards the apartment.

She waved him off, saying “it’ll be fine, I’ll be up and ready in time.” She let him lead her towards their front door, smiling when she felt his hands around her waist.

When they were in the apartment and Spencer closed the door behind them, her hands were all over him. She stood on her tiptoes to give him sloppy kisses on the lips. He had to keep his hands on her so she wouldn’t fall over. “Baby…” she started, her hands moving under his shirt.

He took her hands and pulled them away, despite her pout of protest. “Sweetie, not tonight,” he said.

She pouted more. “Why not? I can’t be handsy with my boyfriend? We’ve been dating a long time, you know.”

“4 years, 3 months, 22 days” he responded instinctually. “But, you’re too drunk right now. We can’t do this when you’re this drunk.”

She crossed her arms. “I am NOT drunk.” She said definitively, as if that would convince him.

He smiled and shook his head, crossing his arms. “Okay. Let’s assume that’s true.” He took his hands off her waist so she could stand on her own, pointing at the end of the hall. “Walk to the end of the hall and back.”

She huffed a bit before stumbling down the hallway and back. “See, I’m fine!”

He stifled a laugh. “I would hardly call that walking.” She rolled her eyes at him while he continued talking. “Stand on one foot.”

She hesitated for a moment before lifting one of her legs up, immediately falling into him. When he gave her a smug look, she pointed at him and said, “Hey, in my defense, I can’t stand on one foot when I’m sober, either.”

He laughed and nodded. “Well, that’s true. I’ll give you that. You’re just clumsy.” He held her by the waist again. “Can you count backwards from 1,000?”

She furrowed her brows. “Are you serious right now? Would you really rather give me a sobriety test than have sex with me tonight?”

He kissed her on the forehead before guiding her towards their bedroom. “Yes. It was more for my own amusement than anything else.” He sat her down on the bed before looking through the drawers for her pajamas. “You can’t even stand on your own right now. What did you expect?”

She huffed before responding. “I expected a boyfriend who would be happy to see me.”

He shook his head at her theatrics before handing her pajamas over to her. “When did I say I wasn’t happy to see you? I’m always happy to see you.”

She crossed her arms, not moving. “You’re not acting like it. And you know you’re not a cop, right? I don’t think FBI agents usually give tests like that.”

He laughed. “I know. I was merely demonstrating your inebriation through a common field sobriety test.” He took the pajamas back from her and placed them on the bed. “I could never take advantage of you like that. I can help you with your nighttime routine, though.”

She made a face like she wanted to be mad at him, but she couldn’t be. “You know, most guys would love that they could get their drunk girlfriend into bed this easily.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. I don’t need to, though. And you’re way too drunk to consent.” He stood her up and brought her clothes to the bathroom. “How would that be enjoyable, anyway? You can barely even think straight; I would just be worrying about you the whole time.” He put some toothpaste on her toothbrush and handed it to her. “And, with the numbing effects of alcohol, you wouldn’t enjoy it that much either; you’d barely be able to feel anything.”

She looked at him for a moment before taking the toothbrush and starting to brush her teeth. “I guess you’re right… you know, sometimes I hate when you’re right.”

He laughed, hugging her close to him while she finished brushing her teeth. “I know. But it’s okay, I’m still here, sweetheart.” He swayed her back and forth a bit, as if he was calming down a fussy baby.

She rinsed her mouth after she brushed her teeth, looking at their reflection in the mirror. She could see how tired she looked. “… Thank you. I’m happy you’re here.”

He kissed the top of her head and moved her so she could hop up onto the sink and he could help take her makeup off. He washed her face and smiled when she closed her eyes as he massaged the soap into her skin. “Comfortable?”

“Mmm…” she mumbled, the circular motion of his hands on her face starting to lull her to sleep.

He chuckled, gently patting her face dry with a towel when he was done. He helped her off the counter and started to help change her clothes.

When he took her shirt off, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. He just laughed and helped her into her pajamas. “Yes, you look great, but no, I’m not changing my mind.”

She sighed and pouted a bit more. “You’re no fun…” she said before yawning. Without even looking at him, she said, “wipe the smug look off of your face; I know I’m tired, that doesn’t mean I agree with your decision.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re not even looking at me.” But he was grinning, and they’ve been together long enough that she knew exactly what face he’d be making.

“I know you have that I-told-you-so look on your face. I don’t need to look at you to know that.” She turned to him, confirming what she already knew. “Let’s just go to bed.”

He nodded and held her as he guided her back to the bedroom. He lifted the covers so she could get under them before turning off the light and getting under the covers with her. He turned to her and kissed her cheek a few times.

He could tell she was still upset. He held her in his arms and let her rest her head on his chest. “I know you’re all moody from the alcohol, but I think you’ll thank me later.”

She grumbled and crossed her arms. “You think I’m moody? Is that why you’re being so mean to me?”

He gave her a confused look. “How am I being mean to you? Did I say something wrong?” He always struggled with social interaction, so he was worried something he said had come across the wrong way.

She huffed. “It feels like you don’t even like me tonight. All you’ve done is push me away. I was so happy to see you and I couldn’t wait to get home and be with you and you don’t even care.”

“Honey…” he started before pulling her on top of him and wrapping his arms around her waist; he knew it was her favorite way to cuddle, so he figured it could help while she was being overdramatic. “I’m so happy to see you. The only reason I’ve been pushing you away is because I know the effects of alcohol on the human brain and how it impairs judgment. And I know we’ve been together a long time and you say it doesn’t matter, but it matters to me.”

She looked at him for a moment and sighed quietly, realizing how dramatic she was sounding. “I guess I’m using my emotional brain while you’re using your logical brain, so it made me feel like you didn’t care.”

He kissed her forehead and hugged her closer to him. “I do care. I love you.” He kissed her cheek to try to get the point across. “If it helps, you being all over me has made the decision a little… difficult.” He blushed lightly and shifted his position a little.

She giggled and nudged her nose into his. “It helps a little. I’m glad I had at least a little bit of an effect on you.” She yawned and buried her face into his chest. “That’s… all I needed to hear, I guess.”

He stroked her hair as he saw her close her eyes. “Get some sleep, sweetie. I already know you’re gonna be cranky when we go out tomorrow. You should at least get a little sleep.

She groaned, but she was too tired to argue with him. Besides, he was right. Like he always was.

…

She wasn’t the only one who was cranky the next day.

All the girls were so hungover, they could barely tolerate being there. And Spencer’s enthusiasm was only making it worse.

“Why are you yelling?”

“Make him stop…”

Derek laughed and asked, “What did you guys drink last night.”

“The green fairy…” Penelope answered, groaning.

Derek laughed again, pointing to Spencer and his girlfriend. “Well, you two must’ve had fun when you got home.”

She grumbled in response, making Derek laugh again. “No?”

“He made me take a sobriety test.” She rolled her eyes, but her sunglasses blocked her eyes from being seen.

Derek raised his eyebrows, looking at Spencer. “Seriously?” He looked back at her. “Did you pass?”

She scoffed, throwing her hands up a little. “No! I was wasted!”

Spencer laughed and hugged her from behind. “It’s true. It was pretty amusing, though.”

“Man, she must’ve been thrilled about that,” Derek answered sarcastically.

She sighed, leaning into Spencer a little. “At least he made me breakfast. He did that right.”

Spencer rested his head on her shoulder. “I did everything right. You just don’t want to admit it.” He grinned, sounding a little smug.

She looked at him pointedly, leaning up a little to speak quietly in his ear, so only he could hear her. “Hey, if you keep acting like that, we’re not doing anything tonight either.”

He laughed and responded softly. “You know you don’t mean that.”

She grumbled. “Okay, fine. But can you at least stop being so smug? It’s making me even crankier than I am from the hangover.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Okay, okay. Deal.”

Everyone chatted casually for a bit before shifting their focus on the race, eagerly awaiting the end of it.

#also yes i did indeed google drunk facts and included some of them here #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

4K notes · View notes

miya-rin · 2 years ago

Text

imagine being the miya twins older sister who has had suna rintarou fully enamoured with your existence since he first met you at 15 years old.

he has tried to make many moves on you over the years to no avail; sneakily trying to place his arms around your shoulder before one of your brothers notice and throw the nearest object they can grab his way. not letting you carry anything while hes around, claiming how “youll never have to lift a finger again” if you give him a chance. hell, even dropping down to the floor to tie your shoelaces the second he realises the laces have come loose, taking his time to stand back up afterwards as he slowly rakes his eyes over your figure so he can fully take in every inch of you. every attempt of his to make you swoon for him is met with “sorry sweetheart, still not into minors” and a small ruffle of his hair which gives him a dopey smile. you would think he would start to back off eventually but to your dismay every rejection you have handed to him has just made his desire for you grow stronger - he takes your words as “try again when youre 18”

which is exactly what he does. on his 18th birthday his friends decide to throw him a massive party - being the twins chaperone you had to come along and when suna set his eyes on you, you knew there was no chance of you escaping his antics. you catch him glancing at you multiple times throughout the night before he gets pulled away by one of his guests, a disappointed look in his eyes every time he had to look away from you.

after a couple of hours you decide to step outside onto the balcony to catch some fresh air seeing as there was no sign of the party dying down anytime soon. you’re outside for maybe 5 minutes when you hear the door slide open, you already know who its going to be seeing as he has been trying to catch you alone all night, you turn around to finally face the boy and he looks as ecstatic as ever.

“happy birthday suna.” you swear you can see his soul leave his body the second those words leave your mouth, its not the first time youve said it to him tonight - youre not that cruel as to not wish the poor boy a happy birthday on his special day - but everything that comes out of your mouth looks like it sends him to heaven and back.

“thankyou yn, i appreciate you being here, but then again, i know you cant spend more that a week away from me because youre just so obsessed with me.”

“wow, am i that easy to read?” you chuckle along with him, noticing the way his gaze doesnt stray away from your face while you face forward, “so, how does it feel finally being legal?”

“incredible, it means you can finally give me a chance.” he doesnt miss the way you sigh at his words.

“suna we’v-“

“i know that we’ve been over this, but i don’t really think you mean it,” this gains an eye roll from you, “plus, my one wish when i blew out my candles was that you would give me a kiss.”

“really? well i guess your going to have to go without this year.”

“it was my birthday wish, youre not gonna deny me that are you?”

“yknow if you tell your wish to someone it doesnt come true right?”

“yn…please,” his voice is barely above a whisper, he sounds desperate, “i have been waiting for three years, all i ask for is one kiss, just one.”

“i think youre forgetting that im 22 and you are freshly 18.”

“im still 18 though.”

“hm… you make a good point,” you see the way he perks up slightly at your evaluation, a hopeful look becoming more prominent in his eyes, “one kiss. let it be my official gift for the birthday boy.” you might have well as told him he had just one the lottery, anyone who walked past the sliding door would think you had due to the way his smile was so wide.

“thankyou” is all he can muster up before he is snaking his hand up your body and with a hand tangled up in your hair he leans down until his lips touch yours, you can feel the shit eating grin spread across his face as he gently moves his lips in sync with yours, pulling away slightly to whisper “best birthday ever” before leaning back in <3

7K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 4 months ago

Text

catch-up- l.norris (no.4)

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

summary: lando after Monza.

pairing: land norris x fem! reader.

warnings: talk of workplace harassment

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

Lando walked into your apartment with a sour expression on his face. You’d been waiting for him all night. P1 to P3, not exactly a good result.

“Hey darling,” you sighed, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He didn’t hug you back. You tried to press a kiss to his cheek, but he shrugged you off and moved further into the apartment and left you in the living room as he went to your bedroom.

Your day hadn’t been great either, if he’d cared to ask, but you didn’t really think faulting him right now was a smart idea. Emotions were high, you’d seen the interviews, you’d seen his face on the podium, and you’d seen him. It still stung.

You followed after him and leant against the doorframe, watching him take off his clothes to be left in his boxers. He didn’t look in your direction once. He lay down in the bed, his back to you, and that was that.

Shit.

“Great discussion,” you mumbled under your breath, and closed the door. Imola to Monaco was only a 3 hour flight and he’d left Imola at about 10pm. It was only about 2am now, and you had work in the morning. Work that you didn’t want to go to. The new co-worker you were teaching was probably the creepiest guy you could ever imagine, and he decided that you were his to touch all day on Friday. Disgusting.

You saw the door open as you settled on the couch, just hoping to drown out the worried and upset thoughts that ran through your head. You were worried about Lando, worried about the Driver’s Championship, worried about Oscar, worried about Lando and Oscar’s relationship, worried about Lando’s confidence, worried about going to work, trying to think about a strategic outfit, worried about the other girls in the office, worried about-

“Hi,” his soft voice invaded your senses, and you turned to face him. There he was, beside you, his hand in yours.

“Hi,” you answered, your voice hoarse and tired. “I’m sorry about today.”

He nodded. “It’s my fault,” he shrugged. “Oscar made the pass, and I was allowed to race him-”

“Lando, you’re not seriously blaming yourself for today, are you?” You asked. He didn’t answer, just staring down at where your hands connected. “It would’ve been a 1-2 finish if Stella and the team didn’t take a page out of the Ferrari handbook of how to fuck shit up. Papaya rules can fuck off, and so can Zak Brown. You deserved that 1-2. Both of you do. P3 is still good, but I know it’s not enough for you. But Lan, think about where you were last year, or the year before. The progress you’ve made this year alone? Unimaginable. Don’t get tunnel-visioned into hating yourself because of one bad race result when you know how talented and skilled you are, and how you won against Max with a fucking 22 second gap. Monza wasn’t your weekend, but next weekend will be and that’s what matters. Also, P3, standing on the podium being a bad result? I’d say you’re doing pretty well then.”

He smiled softly as you reminded him of who he was, but also how important you are to him. Speeches like that from you made him feel a thousand times better than any consolation pity pep-talk he could’ve gotten from someone in the team. “Thank you,” he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Please come to bed.”

You chuckled softly. “I doubt I’ll be sleeping much tonight.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Just… head busy,” you shrugged. “But I’ll come in if you want me to.”

He pressed his lips to your neck in a soft kiss. “I always want you near me.”

You chuckled. “Ok Romeo,” you scoffed, getting up.

“How was work this week?” he asked, following you into your bedroom.

“Shit,” you sighed, lying down. “But probably better than yours.”

“What happened?”

“It’s fine Lan,” you brushed it off. “You’re tired.”

“Not enough to not hear what you have to say,” he sat up, waiting for you to speak.

You sighed and turned to him, resting your head in his lap as he ran his fingers through your hair. “I was training this new guy at work and he decided to make it his personal mission to make me as uncomfortable as possible. He just kept touching me, and not seeing how it was inappropriate. Now I have to think about what I wear even more, and tell the rest of the girls at the office, and-”

“Baby, you shouldn't be dealing with that,” he sighed. You could tell he was angry. “You need to tell HR.”

“That’s the worst part, he’s the HR guy,” you groaned. “Anyways, I just want to sleep, and I know you do too.”

He nodded, lying beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you close. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered. “Please don’t come to my place of work and threaten this guy Lan.”

He scoffed. “I wasn’t going to threaten him, I was going to get Max to do it.”

You chuckled. “You’re a child.”

“I’m a problem solver,” he shrugged. “Ok, but he needs to be fired. I can come in and I’ll pretend like he’s insulted me massively as a customer, boom, he’s gone.”

“Ok Superman, whatever you say,” you giggled.

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

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

#lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #formula 1 #mclaren #lando norris x reader angst #ln4 #lando x reader #f1 2024

741 notes · View notes

riot-ghost · 1 year ago

Text

Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

3K notes · View notes

sammyluvr · 1 month ago

Text

✶ . ၄၃ . something to cling to — aaron hotchner

cw : gn!reader, father-figure!hotch, hurt/comfort, angst, reader is around 18-22/a young adult in college, set sometime before/close to the beginning of season one, dead parents (reader's dad), abandonment, overall parental issues lol, anxiety, crying, panic attack probably, ft haley and the early season one team, food mentions, poor editing, 4.6K words. thank you @beatlewishes for inspiring me!

summary : aaron has been a sort of father figure since the death of your father. he picks up from your apartment at the start of winter break only to find out that your mother has left you.

aaron doesn’t hear from your mother very often. not that he needs to. you’re an adult with your own phone and campus apartment and abilities to communicate when you need something from him. that just means he takes things extra seriously when they come from her. so when she texts him, asking if he can pick you up for winter break and let you stay in his home just until her work day ends, he immediately responds with a resolute, yes, of course.

it’s the sort of thing that you’d normally ask him about, but it’s nice to see your mother be the one to take the initiative to ensure that you don’t have to take the subway with your heavy bags, all alone in the cold.

the text he receives is last minute, and he leaves work earlier than usual to arrive at your apartment on time. your mother told him you have to be out of campus housing by 8pm, and it’s a bit of a drive from quantico to your school. unfortunately, he has to be on a call the whole way over, and never gets the chance to text you that he’s on his way. he just hopes that you know he’ll be the one to pick you up rather than your mom.

the look on your face when you open the door for him tells you right away that you weren’t told. he holds back a sigh, giving you a gentle smile instead.

“hi, kid. i know you were expecting your mom. i’m sorry. she had to take an extra shift at work, but she’ll come pick you up from my house later tonight. that okay?” he asks sincerely, even though you don’t really have a choice.

you try to smile back. at least he’s here, you suppose. it means something that your mom asked him to come get you when she couldn’t, though you wish she’d have told you about it so that you didn’t get so excited by the knock on the door, expecting it to be her. she’s sort of distant these days, and you barely get home because you work on the weekends. you haven’t seen her in a while, and though things have been hard for years now, you still were looking forward to seeing her. she gives good hugs and promised to take you to your favorite restaurant on the way home to celebrate the end of your semester.

“hi, aaron. of course it’s okay. thank you for coming to get me. it’s too damn cold for the subway,” you say, trying not to sound disappointed. you’re sure he can see right through you, just how he can with nearly anyone at all, and he knows you well.

“it certainly is too cold. i’m glad your mother texted me. can i carry anything for you?” he always offers to carry your things, even if there isn’t much. you hand him your heaviest bag, and carry all the totes and looser things in your own arms. you murmur a thanks, to which he replies, “of course,” then watches as you balance a considerable amount of bags in both arms as you turn off the front light and lock the door. he’d offer to help with those too if he didn’t already know that you’re stubborn and like to take care of things for yourself.

his car is right in the parking lot, but he wishes you’d put on a scarf or a hat or maybe both before going outside. it’s quite cold; there’s snow in the overnight forecast. haley told him so this morning. he walks at a brisk pace so he can get you in the heated car sooner.

there’s enough room for your things in the backseat, so he doesn’t bother with the trunk. he puts your duffle bag on the seat, then opens your own door as you set down the rest of your things before heading to the driver’s seat. he knows he doesn’t have to worry about it, but he still checks that you’ve buckled your seat belt before he pulls out of the parking lot.

you’re polite and never snappy, entertaining his questions about how things have been since the last time he saw you, which wasn’t all that long ago. he’s a very busy man, arguably busier than your mom, but you’ve seen him more recently than you saw her. he’s very caring like that, though outwardly quite stern and stoic. you were very intimidated by him when you were younger, scared even. but your father was friends with him for years and years, close enough that you sometimes would forget that they worked together. it’s not something you forget anymore, not after your dad died on the job. and since then, you very rarely see him in his casual clothes like you used to as a kid.

he’d be over at the house in t-shirts and quarter-zips, but since your father died, your mother doesn’t invite him over for casual dinners much anymore. he’s become busier, too, so nearly any time he visits or takes you out to dinner, he’s still in his suit and tie. that’s not something you mind, of course, it’s just one of the many things that have changed, even if small and often inconsequential.

when aaron runs out of things to say, he sighs to himself, quiet enough so you won’t hear it or overthink it. you lean against the cold window and keep your eyes trained on the passing street lights and shops and tall dc office buildings. he knows you’re feeling upset that you’re mom couldn’t make it, but that you’re being adult about it, by being kind to him and trying to talk it through in your head, like always. you’ve always been a little too adult for being so young, he thinks. he can’t blame you, though.

there’s simple lights on his front porch and a pretty christmas tree showing through the front window. haley hugs you when you step inside, and you can feel her growing belly against you. their house is perfectly warm and it smells like dinner’s been cooked not too long ago. you give her the warmest smile you can muster.

aaron puts his hand on your shoulder as you head to the table for dinner and you start to relax. maybe this isn’t what you were wanting, but it’s nice. you’d been hoping to have dinner with them soon, anyway, so what’s the harm in it being now. haley’s always so sweet, extra maternal and doting now that she’s pregnant. aaron can tell she likes the way he acts around you, caring and soft, because it makes her think of how he’ll be for their baby on the way.

you’re very grateful for a warm, home cooked meal after a semester of whatever you can scrounge up in your apartment or the less than ideal dining halls. after dinner, you get comfortable on their couch. aaron sits on the other end and turns on the tv to the channel he thinks you’ll like best, at least for background noise. he’s relieved to see you working through your disappointment of not seeing your mother right away. it pains him to see you upset in any capacity.

but the contented calm of being in a warm, familiar home doesn’t last all that long for you. your mother’s night shifts always go late. then there’s the twenty minute drive from there to here. you understand this very well, but conversation with aaron lulls and the tv runs turn boring and the clock ticks late enough that a tired haley retires to bed. you’re naturally anxious, unsure how to react as your night is ruined once again.

you try to call her, text her, call her again. aaron watches you carefully. you huff out in frustration. “she’s not picking up. she should’ve been here half an hour ago.” he can tell that you’re covering up your worry with a hint of anger.

“i know. i’m sure she’ll be here soon, she’s probably on the road right now. that’s why she’s not picking up,” he placates.

“no,” you shake your head, “the calls just aren’t going through,” you stress, a hint of your anxiety peaking through the cracks of your weary composure. “it says her phone is off.” this sparks real concern for him.

“let me try,” he says, hiding his own worry to avoid adding to yours. he almost promises to get you home with her tonight, but he’s learned not to make promises he doesn’t know for sure that he can keep. when he calls her, he steps away. not to hide anything from you, just so you don’t see his face as he calls her once, twice, three times. she doesn’t pick up and you’re noticeably distressed now.

he sits right next to you on the couch and puts his arm around your shoulder. “her phone could’ve just died, sweetheart,” he quickly assures you, knowing that you’re already thinking about worst case scenarios.

because the worst case scenario has happened to you before, and no matter how many years it’s been, that feeling of dread and worry and then absolute devastation never leaves you. aaron was the second person you cried to after your father died. your mother was of course the first. now, you try not to cry in front of either of them, but you fear it’ll happen tonight.

you’re more than anxious, on edge, and maybe at your wits end tonight. after finding out about one dead parent, you worry extra. you scare easily. and this semester hasn’t necessarily been easy. you’re so tired. not just pulled an all-nighter and fell asleep on your computer for an exam tired, but months of stress and loneliness were supposed to come to an end today, but have just gotten worse kind of tired. and that’s very quickly tugging at your ability to think rationally or keep any sort of composure.you wring your hands in your lap and your shoulders are tense underneath his steady arm. he gives your bicep a comforting rub.

“we’ll find her. she’s alright. we’ll wait up a little longer for her. if she doesn’t show up tonight, you’ll sleep here and i’ll call my team. they’ll find her and make sure she’s alright,” he reassures you. he knows you’re worried something bad has happened to her.

he doesn’t want you to know that he’s worried that she’s left on purpose. the way she texted him to take you home today, neither of your calls going through, and the way he can tell even from afar that she’s been distant as of late makes him wary. and he’ll have to tell you eventually, but he’d rather wait until he has better proof, rather than a hunch. he knows his suspicions would upset you, likely make you angry with him.

“shouldn’t we start looking for her now?” you ask nervously, eyes already teary. his heart clenches at the sight.

“well, honey, i’d start with calling her workplace to see when she left,” he tells you, leaving out the ‘or if she was there at all’ part, “they’re already closed, though.” he takes another look at you and sighs softly, not in frustration, but concerned affection. “but you’re right. it’s a good idea to at least check if there’s someone there still. i’ll call there and a few people who might be able to help. but we’ll be able to find out the most tomorrow morning, okay?”

his words provide both assurance and a new bout of urgency. “but what if something happened to her?”

aaron’s face softens a bit more, just for you. “i understand you’re worried about that. and you know i’ll always take this sort of thing seriously. that’s my whole job, buddy. i really think she’s alright. you know she gets lonely at home and stays at her friend’s sometimes. and… you know she sometimes has bad nights that she’d rather you not see. there’s lots of potential reasons why she hasn’t shown up yet, and i can promise you, statistically, the odds that something very bad has happened to her aren’t as high as you think. she works in a safe area and your mother is a very smart woman. i’m not telling you not to worry or that i won’t do everything i can to find her right now, i’m just telling you that i think she’ll be okay, yeah?”

you listen closely, almost clinging to the sound of his low, comforting voice to avoid spiraling. you nod along, swallowing nervously. “okay,” you relent, huffing the word out, but not relaxing one bit. your body can’t get rid of the memories of finding out that your father had died. since then, you’ve never done well with waiting or uncertainty.

“there’s not much you can do to help me. will you try to get some sleep? the guest room is set up.” the moment he suggests it, he physically feels you tense even further underneath him. “or you can stay up right here to wait for her while i make some calls.” that gets him a nod.

the idea of being left alone with just your anxious thoughts, the dark, and the quiet as company is unsettling to say the least. that’s what trying to fall asleep in the guest room means.

aaron can easily assume that’s why you’d rather stay here, but he knows it’ll do you no good to try and stay awake. that’s just more overthinking and lost sleep. so he changes the channel to nature documentaries and sits at the dining room table where you can see him through the doorway and just barely hear the low rhythm of his deep voice over the tv. he doesn’t want you focused on what he’s saying, but more so his steady, reassuring presence.

it’s 3:04 in the morning when hotch runs out of things to do. he’s called his best assets that might pick up at this time, and written down every detail about the situation and your mother to share with his team. he looks through into the living room to see your drooping eyelids and slouched form. a little longer and you’ll probably fall asleep on your own, but he wonders if he could coax you to lay down with a blanket and a pillow. he stands quietly, and your eyes flick up to look at him when he walks past. he gives you a small smile, doesn’t answer the question in your tired eyes yet.

he takes the comforter and pillow from the bed in the guest room and before you can protest, he lays the blanket over you.

“did you find anything?” you ask sleepily, hesitantly taking the pillow from him as he hands it over. you’ll feel less guilty if you sleep on the couch rather than a comfy mattress. the pillow lays over the plush of the comforter in your lap.

“not yet,” he says gently, “i wasn’t able to get a hold of anyone at your mom’s work, but i got in contact with a few people i know who can help. the team will have plenty to work with in the morning. i already emailed and asked them to come in early.”

you give him a dejected nod. “thank you,” you murmur. he takes one of your hands in his.

“of course,” he says firmly, like he needs you to know just how much he means that. there’s absolutely no hesitation in his desire to help you. he’d stay up until three in the morning every night until he does what he can to fix this. unfortunately, his suspicion is that it’s something he can’t fix, but he’s prepared to be with you every step of the way.

“i’m too anxious to sleep,” you whisper. he crouches in front of you, his knees bumping against your shins for a moment through the fabric of the blanket.

“i know,” he murmurs back, taking one of your restless hands in his before pulling you into a hug, not bothering to move the softness of the comforter and pillow between your bodies. you sink into him, wanting to cry, but too tired. you’ll probably cry tomorrow instead. his hand smooths over the back of your head, coming to rest on your back right below your neck. it’s so steady and firm, warm and comforting. “i’m sorry this is happening. we’ll figure it out. why don’t you lay down? i’ll sit with you if you think it’ll help. i’m just waiting for someone to call me back.”

“okay,” you mumble into his shoulder, taking a long, deep breath and savoring the shield of his arms against all else for a few moments longer. then you pull away and he sets the pillow down on the couch cushion for you. you sigh, lowering your head and pulling your legs up. you take care of the blanket yourself, but he still takes the time to make sure your feet are nice and covered so you don’t get cold overnight. he turns off the last lamp in the room, though the dim chandelier over the dinner shines through the doorway. then he pulls the coffee table closer to the couch and sits on it.

by the time he’s settled, your eyes are already closed, but there’s a pinch between your brows and a frown on your lips. he frowns back at you, his gaze sweeter and sadder now that you can’t see him. one of his sturdy hands finds yours, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles as if he can soothe away the crease right above your nose. a little huff of air leaves your nose and he frowns deeper. his other hand lands gently on the side of your head, smoothing over it to calm you and ease you into sleep. haley always falls asleep faster with his hands in her hair, so he thinks it might help you.

you feel his thumb brush over your eyebrow and you wonder if he knows that your dad used to do that when you were younger or if he’s just trying to get the anxious muscles in your face to relax. you’re pretty sure the frown never leaves your face, but you fall asleep much quicker than you thought you would.

it’s not very restful, but your body keeps you in the dark until it picks up on the movement of aaron and haley going through their morning routine. there’s hushed footsteps and the sound of cereal pouring into a ceramic bowl, milk splashing.

you stretch slowly, neck aching, eyes dry, stomach and heart heavy. then you pad into the kitchen, feeling oddly shy and sheepish after overtaking the couple’s couch for the night and keeping aaron up and away from his wife until so late. they’re both in the kitchen, aaron ready for work and haley pouring her bowl of cereal. she looks tired when she turns in your direction at the sound of your footsteps, and aaron looks composed as always. haley looks at you with a much more obviously sympathetic expression, but he smiles at you too.

“would you like some cereal, honey?” haley asks, walking over to give your shoulder a little rub. “if you feel like something else, you’re more than welcome to anything in our fridge. don’t tell aaron, but there’s frozen waffles in the freezer.” the thought of eating makes your stomach churn a bit, but you think you can handle something as simple as cereal.

“just cereal is alright, thank you,” you murmur.

“of course, sweetheart,” she smiles, grabbing you a bowl and spoon and letting you serve yourself. you sit at the table in silence, slowly chewing the food that takes a little bit like nothing to you. neither of them ask you anything or try to make you talk when you’re clearly not wanting to. aaron stands to put his bowl away and leave. haley watches with a sigh as you quickly stand to meet him at the door.

“please let me come with you,” you ask, letting a bit of vulnerability seep into your voice. “i won’t be any trouble, i just– i don’t know if i can sit here and do nothing.”

he purses his lips and studies you for a moment. sometimes it doesn’t help to have a family member hanging around as they search for someone. and sometimes they’re worse off there, too. but he knows you’ll listen if he asks you to just stay in his office and it might be good for you to see gideon. you’ve known him even longer than hotch.

“alright,” he relents, “why don’t you go grab a book, you won’t find the ones in my office to be any fun. get dressed quickly.”

you nod once and your thank you trails behind you as you rush off to change out of your pajamas. then you’re in his car on the way to visit the bau after a long time. you haven’t been to the office in over a year. sometimes you avoid it like the plague, other times you try to visit more often to feel closer to your father when nothing else works.

gideon is the only one who’s there before hotch. when you were a kid you thought he lived there. he’s quick to give you a kind smile and warm hug. aaron thinks the hug does do you good, though it makes you a bit emotional when gideon says your name and a simple, “we’ll do our jobs and take care of it.” then he sends you back to aaron with a firm pat on your back.

aaron keeps you in his office after that, so you don’t see reid or morgan when they arrive. you catch a glimpse of morgan walking across the bullpen when you look out the window, though. it’s alright, you don’t really know them as well as hotch or gideon.

it takes a few long, silent, and tedious moments for you to settle enough, but you somehow find it in you to read the book aaron advised you to grab. you don’t really pick up all that much, but it’s a distraction. you scribble on some loose paper with a pen you unceremoniously lift from his desk. it takes a lot less time to get an update than you though it would. your hope was running low.

but hotch shows back up not to long after and closes the door behind him. he sits next to you. you stare at your hands.

“our technical analyst, garcia, was able to track your mother’s phone. it’s not turned off… but if looks like our calls weren’t going through. she didn’t answer, but garcia’s number was able to call her. we should be able to get a hold of her soon,” he explains evenly, gently, as he places a hand on your shoulders. there’s something, maybe more, that he’s not saying and you know it.

“…why weren’t our calls going through?” you whisper, afraid of the answer. he sighs like he’s afraid of giving it to you.

“it seems like she blocked our numbers, honey. we’ll keep looking until we’re sure she’s safe and we get in contact with her, but right now it looks like she’s… well, it looks like she’s running. garcia tracked her to a town in western pennsylvania. she’s stopped for gas along the i-80. we called her job. she put in her two weeks at the beginning of the month,,” he tells you, both apologetic and matter of fact. his suggestion hits you like a punch to the gut. they’ve found her. that’s good. aaron thinks she’s running, presumably away from you. not good. unacceptable, you feel.

“wh-why would she do that?” you ask, voice breaking and turning teary much faster than you intended for it to. you’re a bit horrified, and maybe a little lightheaded from it too. you’re sure that this can’t be real.

“that’s what we’re trying to figure out. is there any reason you could think of?” he asks gently, trying not to make the question too abrasive.

“no,” you insist, a little harshly and vehemently that it makes you feel a bit guilty. you’re angry and upset, though. “you’re asking me if there’s any reason i could think of that would explain her leaving me? s-supposedly rubbing away like- like some kind of teenager? except that means leaving her kid behind without a word? after promising me she’d pick me up and take me to dinner, is that what you’re asking?” you’re crying by the end of it. you hate how your anger always dissolves into these stupid, pitiful tears.

aaron’s sorry that he asked, but it’s hard for him to believe it, too. he just wants to understand the situation. that’s how he figured out a way to start making it better. that’s his job. but he remembers that right now it’s his job to hug you. to tell you he’s sorry and that he’s honestly not sure what’s going on either. that he’ll figure it out, though, and get you back to your mom. maybe he’s not supposed to be completely honest, but he’s one for telling the full truth, so he tells you it might take time, but that he’ll be with you the whole time.

“i’m sorry, honey,” he says again. you cling to him and cry for a while. he fights the urge to check his watch and just keeps his hands cupping the back of your head and soothing up and down your back.

you want to argue with him. to demand further proof, to insist that she’s innocent, like you’re her damn lawyer and he’s her prosecutor. that though makes you cry harder because you’re her child and he’s only trying to help. and you’re just so tired. far too tired to say anything, but a pained “why,” mumbled into his chest. he’s not perfectly sure, but he’s spent all last night and this morning figuring it out. he wishes he’d paid better attention, tried to see her more and picked up on things before she actually skipped town. god, he feels so sorry.

“i don’t know,” he says quietly, a half truth at best. his whole job is to come to see and understand the why, and he has a few ideas, but it’s your mother’s job to explain it to you, not his. and his overly analytical conclusions, even if spoken gently, wouldn’t ease your mind one bit. “we’ll get her on the phone and we can ask her. we’ll figure it out. i want you to stay with haley and i until we’ve got everything sorted. is that alright with you?”

you wipe at your face and nod, still leaning against him. “okay.” you’re not sure how you feel about staying with your mother after all of this, even if she returns sooner than later. right now, it feels like aaron’s your only constant, even when he’s gone all the time. it’s just that he seems to come back each time, with a certain gentleness and the sort of soft smile that his coworkers don’t see very often.

then, you suppose it’ll be weird. aaron will be away from home most of the time, and it’s not as if you can spend your days in his office. so you’ll be with haley, who’s about to become a mother, and you wonder if that’ll hurt too much.

but at the end of the day, you won’t be alone. “okay,” you repeat, as teary, a little more relieved, because you have something. something to cling to, and it has to be enough.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner platonic fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner criminal minds #aaron hotchner drabble #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch imagine

349 notes · View notes

seokgyuu · 1 year ago

Text

your boyfriend has been telling you he wants to bring someone else into the bedroom for a while. the thought only started to sound good when a certain boyfriend's best friend posts gym pictures on insta.

pairing: sung hanbin x fem!reader x seok matthew

genre: established relationship (hanbin x fem!reader) , smut MDNI!

smut warnings: cuckold, thigh riding, blowjobs, penetrative sex, dirty talk, usage of the words "princess", "baby", unprotected sex, creampie

wordcount: 4.4k

a/n: happy happy birthday @cheolism!!!!! see, i told you i would whip something up!! you probably didn't believe me, did you? ha! got you there. anyway. happiest birthday, my dear! i hope you enjoy this little piece of filth i made in your honour. one turns 22 only once you know!! in german we say: Schnappszahl! i love you loads, babes, have a wonderful day <3 (ps. it's been your birthday in germany for one hour already so theoretically i am not posting early!!)

“When did Matthew start working out like this?”

You’re laying on your stomach on Hanbin’s bed, biting down on your thumbnail.

“Like… a month ago? He’s been going to the gym forever, but only recently going every day.”

You nod. Yeah, he definitely looks like he hits the gym every day. Gosh, you still remember him as a small (he’s still relatively small), lanky pre-teen with braces and glasses that were too big for his face. None of that is left. Glasses are ditched unless he’s at home playing video games for no one to see. Braces have been gone a long time, leaving him with two rows of perfectly straight white teeth. And last but not least the lankiness has turned into buffness you couldn’t stop staring at on your phone.

“Why do you ask?” Hanbin now rolls over with his chair, eyebrows raised as he looks at your phone screen. You’re not quick enough to move, leading Hanbin to snicker as he places his legs on top of his bed, arms crossed.

“I can explain,” you say now, sitting up, but your boyfriend just grins at you.

“Can you now, princess?” He tilts his head and you bite your lip, suddenly forgetting all the explanations you could possibly come up with. You know your boyfriend - he isn’t the jealous type. If anything… he is the opposite. How many nights had he whispered into your ear that he would love to watch you get fucked by someone else, how he got hard just imagining you on someone else’s cock. All you had done when he said that was turn bright red and let him fuck you senseless after - with his own cock, not anyone else’s.

And now, here you are. Looking at pictures of his best friend (really? out of everyone it had to be Hanbin’s best fucking friend?!) with Hanbin’s eyes sparkling mischievously. It’s obvious what he’s thinking. You clear your throat.

“I don’t- I don’t think you want him to get involved, do you?” You ask carefully and Hanbin leans forward now, smiling.

“Why not? Because he’s been my best friend for years?” He wants to know. When you nod, Hanbin climbs onto the bed, catching you off guard when he wraps his arms around you and brings his lips to your forehead, kissing it softly before looking down at you with yet another one of his beautiful smiles.

“I don’t think there is anyone I’d rather see you getting fucked by, my love.” He says it in such a soft and innocent tone, you can’t help but laugh, burying your head in his chest.

“You’re horrible,” you mumble and Hanbin laughs, bringing one of his hands to the back of your head, patting it lovingly.

“I love you, you know that right? And if you’re really interested in Matt… I am sure I could arrange something.”

The thing is: you say no. Because why would you want to sleep with someone else when you have your perfect boyfriend right there? Your perfect boyfriend that has always cared more about your pleasure than his? That has made you cum more times than you can count? That perfect boyfriend that has never once let you down.

You’re in the cafeteria with your bottle of water and a tray full of food but you can’t eat. Your leg is bouncing up and down and your eyes are focused on one of the trash cans at the far end of the room. Not because they are particularly interesting, but because Matthew sat down just a few tables further from you in nothing but a flimsy muscle shirt and ripped jeans and you really, really can’t look at him. So, the trash can it is.

“Did you see a ghost?” Hao is suddenly next to you, making you flinch and almost knock over the bottle of water.

“Jesus Christ, Hao, next time whistle or something,” you say, frowning at your friend who just shrugs and instead begins eating his food.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost? Is the cafeteria poltergeist back?”

“What? No. No, I am fine. Totally fine. No ghosts.” You clear your throat and catch yourself sneaking a glance at Matthew after all, regretting it immediately. Because why is he flexing right then and there, laughing his cute laugh after when Gyuvin throws a napkin at him. This is torture.

“Ah, right. Matthew,” Hao nods and your head swirls around, eyes wide.

“Matthew, what?” You ask even though you already know. God fucking dammit Sung Hanbin!

“Bin told me,” Hao confirms and you roll your eyes with a groan, “even though I was kind of offended you didn’t want me to be the first to join you two in the bedroom, Y/N.”

“If I were to ever let that happen I’d be single and you and Hanbin happily married with seven children in no time,” you mumble and Hao chuckles, shaking his head and pulling a hand through his hair.

“At least you’re aware I’m actually his favorite,” he hums at you and the desire to copy Gyuvin and throw a napkin at your friend is extremely tempting.

“Whatever.” You try to focus back on your food, but your stomach is rumbling and your brain is somewhere totally different, meaning hunger was the last thing on your mind - at least hunger for actual food.

Hao snickers and watches you, a piece of meat landing on his tongue.

“I think you should do it, Y/N. Hanbin has been dreaming of this moment. Honestly, no idea what he finds so appealing about watching his girlfriend getting fucked by another man, but believe me, you’d make him the happiest man on this earth if you were to bring Matthew into your bedroom.”

The words do more than either of you probably thought. They continue to linger in your mind even hours after Hao had said them, you now being in your dorm with your pen stuck between your teeth, eyes unfocused on the words you’ve been trying to read.

Bring Matthew into your bedroom. Have him be a part of your sex life with Hanbin. Make Hanbin the happiest man on this earth.

It’s official: You’d be lying if you said the whole thing didn’t turn you on. Imagining Hanbin sitting on the little armchair in his apartment with his cock in his hands as you sat on Matthews stiff length, his strong arms wrapped around you as he thrusted up into your needy pussy…

The pen falls down and you are back in reality, flinching and shaking your head. This is crazy. You couldn’t possibly… a groan escapes you and you let your head fall on top of your desk, slamming your forehead against it a few times, before sitting back up and leaning against your chair, letting your thoughts roam free. Hanbin had literally asked you about this several times. He wanted to bring someone else into the bedroom and he even said that he wouldn’t mind it being Matthew. So, what was stopping you?

“Fucking hell,” you curse as you pull both hands through your hair and get up, opening the door of your room to walk into the living space, where you are met with none other than Hanbin walking in… Matthew right behind him. You freeze mid step.

“Hi, I called you, but you didn’t pick up, I hope it’s okay I brought Matt over, we were at the gym and the showers are broken and, well, your apartment is closer.”

Yes, you can clearly see where those two have been. They are sweaty, hair slightly wet, muscle shirts clinging onto their chests. The tattoo on Matthew’s biceps pops out deliciously when he raises his arm to wave at you. Your eyes wander to your boyfriend, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“That’s okay,” you croak out, looking back at Matthew and somehow you just cannot stop yourself from checking him out unapologetically. His defined arms, the defined chest, the sweatpants on his strong legs. Your tongue slips out of your mouth and runs over your dried up bottom lip and Matthew can’t help but stare at you, feeling his cheeks heat up at the way you’re looking at him.

He remembers Hanbin’s words and feels his knees go weak.

“She definitely wants you to fuck her, Matt. She just needs a little… nudge.”

Never had he ever thought his best friend’s girlfriend would ever want him to… do that. He swallows down whatever lump has formed in his throat and looks at Hanbin, unsure. Hanbin, who now walks over to you, his hand softly grabbing your chin, moving your head to look at him.

“I think I should hit the shower first, be a good girl and show Matthew the rest of the apartment, hm?” He kisses your lips softly after that, well aware of what his words just caused. Your eyes flicker up to him, wide and unsure and when he winks at you, squeezing your hand as he slowly makes his way to the door leading into the bathroom, you know that all you can do now is follow your gut.

There is a certain kind of silence between Matthew and you once the door shuts behind Hanbin, a silence filled with tension so thick it takes your breath away. You watch as Matthew slowly drops his bag onto the floor, his shoes vacant next to it. His legs carry him over to you and with every step he takes, your heart picks up speed while the heat between your legs begins to feel almost unbearable. His eyes say much more than words ever could and when he comes to a stop, he lets them linger on your lips long enough for you to almost lose your mind.

“So, what’s behind this door?” He asks, nodding in the direction of the bedroom door. The heat is about to make you pass out.

“B-bedroom,” you stutter back. Matthew grins.

“Well, what did Hanbin hyung say? Be a good girl and show me.”

Oh. Oh. A Wave of desire washes over you as you nod, your hand shaking when you push the door open, following Matthew’s hand movement and walking inside, his body right behind yours. He doesn’t close the door behind him, instead he settles on walking through the room, looking around. You try to steady your breathing, failing miserably.

“It’s a nice bedroom,” he says, nodding to himself, “I like the pictures on your wall. Did you take them?”

When you nod, he smiles at you, obviously impressed.

“You’ve got a good eye.”

As much as you appreciate the compliment - you can’t really focus on anything else but the way he looks in the dim light coming through the window. His arms, his slowly heaving chest. Your eyes roam over his body and you feel hot all over, wondering what it would feel like to touch him, to feel his muscles tighten around you.

He notices, of course he does. It’s not hard to miss - the way you eye him up and down, the way your eyes linger a little too long on his chest, his arms. He feels his blood rush down, feels his dick getting hard at the mere idea of you checking him out, wanting him.

“Maybe,” you begin, not sure where the confidence to speak is coming from but you accept it with open arms, “maybe you should change out of your sweaty clothes.”

His eyebrows shoot up for just a second before they settle back down. He can’t stop the smug smile creeping on his lips, not taking his eyes off you when he starts moving.

“Yeah? Hm, I think you might be right.” His voice is deep and dripping in cockyness that has your pussy clenching. To make matters worse, he comes to a stop in front of you and immediately moves his hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head the next second to reveal a perfectly sculpted torso - abs and chest and collarbones that make your fingers itch to touch them.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, stepping closer to him with your hands stretched out, hands that he now grabs with his, pulling you right into him. While he should smell bad, courtesy of working out, he doesn’t. He looks sweaty, he is sweaty, but he smells heavenly. His cologne mixed with his own scent, musky and sweet at the same time, it lingers in your nose, gets your knees weak and Matt has to wrap an arm around your waist to stop you from actually falling to your knees. The smug smile seems to get even more smug. His eyes are on yours and his arm around you seems to squeeze every ounce of self respect you have left right out of you.

“Careful, darling.” His voice is merely a whisper. His breath hits your face and you can’t stop the whimper escaping your lips now even if you tried. That does it for him. He forgets all about his worries and crashes his lips onto yours, free hand now cupping your cheek, meaning both of your hands were free to find their own place to settle on.

First, you let your right hand feel up his biceps, a moan slipping between your lips when he flexes his arm underneath your grip. The other hand is on his chest, nails digging into his warm skin, causing him to hiss. His teeth sink into your bottom lip and you feel like you could come undone on the spot.

Matthew deepens the kiss, tongue now inside your mouth, wet and hot and perfect and you let both arms wrap around his neck now, his strong arm carrying you over to the bed, where he puts you down, his body now on yours, one of his thighs slipping between yours - giving you the friction you so desperately needed. His lips move fast and rough and you feel like your whole body is on fire when you begin to move your core against his thick thigh, embarrassingly already feeling a climax approaching.

“God, you’re so pretty,” his breathy voice against your ear gets you even closer to the edge. You bite down on your lip, arching your back against him and he begins to kiss your neck, kiss it, lick it, bite down on your sensitive skin, one hand now under your shirt, grabbing your braless tits and squeezing them hard.

“Fuck, Matthew-,” you cry out, nails back to digging into his skin, this time his shoulders. Your hips move uncontrollably against his hard thigh, his tongue now wandering down and finally flicking against your nipple after shoving your top up far enough. Everything inside of you is burning by now. Your clothes feel too hot and you sit up for a second to get rid of your shirt, the wild look in Matthew’s eyes as he watches you is intoxicating. You are quick to wrap your arms around him again when your upper body is freed and he is quick to kiss you again, just as rough as before.

In no time you feel your first orgasm rush over you, a series of whimpers and moans landing in his mouth, against his lips, down his throat as he swallows them.

“Yeah, baby, so pretty when you cum for me, fucking hell, I bet you’re so fucking wet.”

The orgasm is mindblowing. It’s hot and feels forbidden even though you know it’s not. You know Hanbin is probably standing under the stream of water having to restrict himself from touching his cock, from getting off to the thought of you and Matthew alone in your bedroom. There is no time for you to come down from your high, not with Matthew parting from you only to shove you further up the bed with your newest obsession in the form of his arms. Your mouth waters and your eyes widen when you see the clear outline of his arousal between his legs and you can’t stop yourself from sitting back up.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask him.

He groans and nods, pulling his sweatpants down, leaving almost nothing to imagination anymore. His gray briefs are tight around his cock, a cock you can’t wait to taste on your lips and feel its weight on your tongue. You get on all fours, looking up at him and seeing his eyebrow twitch, a smile on your lips when you finally reach him, fingers in the waistband of his underwear, dragging it down his legs next, his thick cock springing free and smacking against his stomach, leaving a small stain right there on his skin. Moving forward, you grab his cock and lick over his stomach, the stain gone in no time, Matthew’s eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, one hand now on the back of your head, watching you as you begin to pump his cock with one hand, the other helping you keep steady on the mattress. You eye his cock, tongue soon licking his tip clean and Matthew is sure he is about to pass out. His hips buck and you giggle, opening your mouth fully for him to slip inside, easily taking him down your throat, Matthew’s composure about to break. His hand fists your hair, head thrown back as he continues to fuck your mouth. Spit is dripping down onto the bed, spit mixed with his pre and you press your tongue against his shaft, letting him use your throat as much as he likes.

“So, so good for me, baby, taking me so well, fuck.”

His raspy voice has your eyes rolling back and your core starting to throb again. It won’t be long until you need a cock stuffing you full.

“I see you are already acquainted with my princess’ ability to take a cock down her throat no problem.”

Hanbin entered the room with neither of you taking notice. Your heart does a flip, eyes opening and flicking over to your beautiful boyfriend who stands in the door frame, nothing but a towel around his slim body, the tattoo right underneath his neck as well as his v-line on full display for you to drool on Matt’s cock over. Your boyfriend comes closer to you now, Matthew not even taking real notice, too far into his desire. Hanbin stops next to Matthew, smiling to himself as he watches his most beloved girlfriend getting throat fucked by his best friend. The towel does little to hide how much he enjoys the view.

“My perfect girl, I bet you’re so wet, aren’t you?” He pats your cheek softly, eyes warm but sharp. You want to tell him to get behind you, to fuck you as Matthew fucks your mouth, but you know that’s not what he wants.

“Matt, I think it’s time for you to give our little baby here what she needs.” Shit. You moan around Matt’s cock, dizzy from the way Hanbin seems to lose himself in authority in the best way. He’s confident and secure and you don’t think he’s ever been sexier to you. Finally, Matt lets his cock drop from your lips and you wipe over your mouth with the back of your hand, looking from Matt to Hanbin.

“You did so well, baby, ‘am so proud of you.” Hanbin leans forward, kissing your lips and then your cheeks and finally your forehead before looking back at Matthew and giving him the go with a nod.

A few seconds later you’re on your back, Matthew’s cock deep inside you, wrapped in a condom Hanbin had handed him (“The only one cumming inside her is me, sorry bud,” he had said and Matthew had only nodded, too horny to even really care), fucking into you like a madman. Your back was arched and your fingers were wrapped around his biceps that were all nice and hard as he held himself up above you, his hips working at godspeed.

Watching all of this from your desk chair, Hanbin had discarded the towel on the floor, his hand around his leaking cock, watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend just the way she liked it. His eyes are glued to your face, the way it is contoured in nothing but pleasure - your eyes closed shut and your mouth dropped open, the sounds coming out of it more than just music to his ears. You sound like heaven to him - like something no one could ever compare to. He licks over his lips, stroking his cock a little quicker as he lets his eyes roam over the rest of you; your tits as they bounce up and down, your legs crossed around Matthew’s waist. Everything about you is perfect and he can’t believe he got to finally see your pleasure from this point of view.

“G-gonna cum, fuck, sh-shit,” Matthew feels himself tumbling over the edge, his head dipping down to kiss your neck and lick up to your lips, pulling you into a kiss that takes your already harbored breath away. He moves faster, with less control and finally, when he feels you clench around his cock over and over - hot cum shoots out of his exhausted cock and into the condom, for a split second wishing there wasn’t one.

He rides out his orgasm, kissing your lips and cheeks and moving down to your neck, your hands in his hair now, enjoying the way he twitches inside of you. When he rolls off your body, he is still trying to catch his breath, even more sweaty than before. With all of the tension and arousal gone, he now starts to feel blood rush to his cheeks, slowly looking over at you only to see you fondly smiling at him.

“Thanks,” you giggle, letting your fingers brush through his wet bangs. He smiles, showing his rows of white teeth.

“Right back at you,” he says, looking at Hanbin then, who has gotten up. He exchanges glances and nods, knowing that this next part is not for his eyes.

“Guess I’ll finally hit the shower then.” Matthew chuckles, getting off the bed and hurrying to the door that he ends up closing this time.

Hanbin is on top of you a second later, his lips devouring yours, hands on your face, cock pressing against the inside of your thigh. You sigh into his mouth, hands on his nape as you kiss him back, butterflies everywhere, your stomach feeling like you’re flying.

“You did so well, baby, made me so happy, so horny, god, I love you,” he kisses you between every word and you giggle, wrapping your legs around him.

“I love you too, need you, too, please fill me up, Hannie.”

He nods, kissing the corner of your mouth before skillfully turning you around, slipping into your pussy through your legs flat on the mattress. Fuck. You love it when he fucks you like this. His mouth is right by your ear, his cock easily slipping into you, the moan he lets out making your pussy flutter.

“So wet baby, did he fuck you well, hm? Liked his cock in your mouth? Your pussy?” He whispers into your ear, his hips beginning to fuck you into the mattress hard. You cry out, hands gripping the bed sheets.

“Y-Yes! Liked it a lot.”

“Hm, bet you did. Bet you would have loved it if I had fucked you when you had his cock in your mouth, isn’t that right, baby?” His hips are so skilled, know exactly how to move to make you lose your mind, forget all your words. So, all you can do is nod your head yes.

Hanbin chuckles, kissing the back of your neck.

“I am so lucky to have you.”

His speed triples after this. He ruts into you like it’s his life goal to have you coming undone on his cock, to have his seed spill into you and claim you as his. Your cries of pleasure make him go even harder, the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy so lewd it has both of your heads spinning. When you feel your second climax approaching, you clench around him, Hanbin biting into your shoulder as he continues his thrusts. Neither of you will hold out any longer and so, when he gives you permission with a sweet kiss and a “cum for me, princess”, you can’t help yourself. Pleasure runs through every inch of your body, pulsating around Hanbin’s cock and taking him over the edge with you.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it, shit,” Hanbin empties inside you, hot cum filling your spent pussy and you cry out his name over and over again, just as he does yours. All through getting down from his high, he showers your back with kisses, hands caressing your sides. When he slips out of you and helps turn you on your back, you feel his release dripping out too and he is quick to stuff it back in with his slim fingers, your pussy clenching as you whimper in overstimulation.

“Bin!” Your hands both move to his wrist, eyes wide and he grins, the wrinkles under his eyes making you all soft inside.

“Sorry, baby. Just making sure what’s yours stays in there.” He kisses the top of your nose and you roll your eyes at him, swatting at his shoulder.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth.”

Your boyfriend just laughs, kissing you lovingly, free hand caressing your cheek.

Someone clearing their throat in the door makes you part again. There stands Matthew, his eyes glued to the both of you with something like uncertainty in his gaze.

“I just- uh, I just wanted to know where, uh, where you kept the towels.”

You can see clearly that he’s been watching you longer than a few seconds. You and Hanbin share a look before you burst out laughing.

“Maybe we should take a shower together. All three of us,” You say, grinning from Hanbin to Matthew. They both are visibly surprised at your proposal, Matthew looking a little unsure when his and Hanbin’s gaze meet.

“Sounds like a wonderful plan to me, sweetheart. I could definitely use another shower after this.” Hanbin grins happily. And Matthew thinks that maybe he could get used to this.

#ksmutsociety #sung hanbin x reader #hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #matthew x reader #zb1 fanfiction #zb1 smut #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone smut #zerobaseone fanfiction #sung hanbin smut #hanbin smut #seok matthew smut #matthew smut #mattbin smut #zerobaseone imagines

1K notes · View notes

natsaffection · 8 months ago

Text

Mafias Mistress pt. 4 | N.R

MafiaBoss!Natasha x CivilianYounger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22), Gore, guns, Death, screaming, so much teasing, be forced to watch people have sex, restraints, Begging, edging

Word Count: 7,4K

A/N: truely very exciting to write..🫠

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, the tantalizing aroma of dinner filling the cozy apartment.

Tonight was supposed to be a peaceful evening, a chance to relax after the recent chaos. You were determined to create a feast that would make even Natasha smile after a long day.

You barely noticed the sound of the front door creaking open at first, completely focused on the task at hand. "Natasha, you're home early!" you called out cheerfully without turning around. "I'm almost done with dinner. You're going to love it!"

The silence that followed your words was unexpected and sent a shiver down your spine. Slowly you turned around, a smile still on your lips. But the figure standing in the doorway was not Natasha.

A tall, imposing man with sharp features and cold eyes stared at you. His presence radiated menace, and the way he surveyed the room sent a wave of fear over you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you instinctively took a step back.

"Who are you?" you asked, trying to keep calm despite the rising panic in your voice. The man grinned, his gaze never leaving yours. "Viktor," he replied, his tone dripping with malice. "I'm an old... acquaintance of Natasha's. You must be Y/N."

Your mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the conversations you once had with Natasha. Viktor. But that name means absolutely nothing to you.

"What do you want?" you asked, your voice shaking despite your efforts to appear brave.

Viktor took a step closer, his presence overwhelming the small kitchen. "I'm here to leave a message," he said, his eyes flashing with a cruel light. "Natasha has interfered in matters that are none of her business. It's time she understood the consequences."

Your breath caught as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were a pawn, a means to an end in a game that was far more dangerous than you had imagined. The knife you had been using to cut vegetables lay within reach, but you knew it was no match for Viktor's imposing frame.

Your next move was driven by desperation. Without thinking, you grabbed the knife and held it up defensively. "Stay back!" you warned, your voice firmer now, even though your hands were shaking.

Viktor chuckled, a chilling sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Brave, but stupid," he said, taking another step forward. "Do you really think you can stop me?"

Before you could react, Viktor lunged at you, disarming you with terrifying ease. The knife fell useless to the ground. He grabbed your arm with an iron grip and pulled you close.

"You will deliver a message for me," he hissed, his breath hot against her ear. "Tell Natasha she can't hide forever. We will find her. And when we do, she will pay for her interference."

Tears of fear and frustration welled up in your eyes as you struggled against his grip, but Viktor's strength was overwhelming. "Let go of m-me!" you cried, your voice breaking.

With one final, menacing smile, Viktor released you and pushed you back. As you collapsed to the floor, shaking and gasping for air, you didn't hear the sound of footsteps quickly approaching outside.

The front door swung open again, revealing Natasha, heading to your apartment to surprise you. "Y/N, I'm him-" Natasha's voice trailed off as her gaze fell on the scene before her. Her eyes widened in fear and anger as she saw you slumped on the floor, Viktor standing over you.

The smile that had graced Natasha's face moments before vanished, replaced by a cold, deadly expression. Her body tensed, and in an instant she was a predator ready to attack.

"Viktor," Natasha spat, her voice a dangerous growl. "Get away from her." Viktor slowly turned around, his expression one of slight surprise mixed with amusement. "Natasha, what a pleasant surprise," he drawled, though the malice in his eyes betrayed his words. "Exactly the woman I was hoping to see."

Natasha's eyes flashed with anger as she walked toward him, each step deliberate and full of menace. "You made a big mistake coming here," she hissed in a deep, deadly voice.

Viktor laughed, though there was a hint of unease in his eyes as he faced Natasha's wrath in full force. "We'll see," he said, his bravery wavering slightly.

Without warning, Viktor drew a gun and pointed it directly at you. The intention was clear: to hurt Natasha by hurting the person she cared about.

Your scream and plea pierced the air, your eyes widening in fear. "Natasha, please, do whatever he wants!" you pleaded, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

Something dark flickered in Natasha's eyes as she reached under her jacket and pulled out her own gun, pointing it hard at Viktor. Your shock was palpable, your world spinning out of control. The Natasha you knew had never hinted at this side of herself. Is she a cop? Does she have the gun for self-defense?

"Put the gun down, Viktor," Natasha ordered, her voice cold and unwavering. "This is between you and me."

Victor's grin faded as he looked between Natasha and you. "So, the kitten has claws," he sneered. "But do you really think you can pull the trigger, Natasha? While she's watching?"

Your heart was pounding, your head was racing. This was a side of Natasha you'd never seen, never even imagined. The realization that Natasha was deeply involved in a dangerous world shook you to the core.

"Natasha, please," you whisper, your voice breaking. "Just do what he says." Natasha's eyes softened for a brief moment as they met yours, but the iron resolve quickly returned. "I won't let him hurt you," she said, her voice filled with a deadly promise.

In the tense standoff, Viktor's confidence began to waver. He had underestimated Natasha's resolve and willingness to protect you at all costs. "Last chance, Viktor," Natasha said, her voice deadly. "Drop the gun and walk away, or I'll end this right now."

Viktor hesitated, gripping the gun tighter. But he could see the determination in Natasha's eyes, the unwavering resolve that meant she wouldn't hesitate to fire. Slowly he lowered his weapon, a frustrated growl escaping his lips. Natasha moved quickly, disarming Viktor and knocking him to the ground. She stood over him, her gun pointed at his head, her expression cold and merciless.

"You will never threaten her again," Natasha said, her voice ice cold. "You and Dreykov will get the message loud and clear." Viktor's eyes widened in fear as he realized the true depth of Natasha's determination. Before he could say another word, Natasha pulled the trigger and the shot echoed through the apartment.

Your scream shattered the silence, a raw, emotive sound of shock and terror. You crawled away and pressed yourself against the kitchen counter, your eyes widening in horror as you stared at Viktor's lifeless body.

"Y/N, don't look at him, look at me.." Natasha said quietly, turning to you. She held out a hand, her expression full of concern. "It's okay- it’s okay! You're safe now!“

"D-Don't touch me!" you screamed, your voice high in panic. "Stay away from me!" Natasha froze, her heart breaking as she saw the fear in your eyes. She took a step back and raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Y/N, please, just let me explain-"

"I said stay away!!" you screamed again, your body shaking. "What did you d-do? He gave up! He-"

At that moment, the front door flew open and Maria stormed into the apartment along with several of Natasha's men. Maria took in the scene with a quick, practiced glance, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation and knew what to do.

Maria stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "It's going to be okay," she said in a firm voice. "I'm from the police and I'm here to help..“

You looked at Maria, confusion and fear battling in your eyes. "An officer? I don't understand...h-how did you know...?"

Natasha's eyes met Maria's, a silent understanding passing between them. "We have to go," Natasha said quietly, her voice full of urgency. "They're going to come get us now."

You shook your head, your fear giving way to anger. "No! I'm not going anywhere with you! You lied to me, I-I don't even know who you are!"

Maria squeezed your shoulder gently, your eyes serious. "Y/N, I know this is a lot to take in, but you have to trust us. Natasha is trying to protect you. If you stay here, you're in danger."

"I know I lied, but everything I did was to protect you.. You have to come with me. It's not safe here anymore.." Your eyes darted between Natasha and Maria, your mind racing. The woman you thought you knew stood before you, a stranger in many ways, but your desperation and sincerity were undeniable. The apartment that had once felt like a sanctuary now felt like a prison, its walls closing in with every second.

"Y/N," Maria interjected gently but firmly, "Natasha is right. We don't have much time. I understand that you're scared and angry, but we have to move. Staying here is not an option.”

Your breath came in short gasps, your thoughts a whirlwind of fear, betrayal and confusion. “You’re a cop?” you ask, searching for some semblance of truth in the chaos.

Maria nodded, her face a mask of calm determination. “We need to get you to a safe place where we can explain everything.”

Natasha’s eyes never left yours, the vulnerability in your gaze breaking through the fear and confusion. “Please, Y/N. Trust me one last time. I promise I’ll explain everything, but we have to go now.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, the woman you loved and the woman you now realized you didn't fully know. The weight of the decision weighed on you, the urgency of the situation colliding with your need for answers.

"Okay," you finally whisper, your voice barely audible. "Okay, I'll go with you." Relief flooded Natasha's face, but she kept her composure, knowing they were far from safe. "Thank you," she said quietly. "We need to leave right now. Maria, can you get the car ready?"

Maria nodded and quickly walked to the door, yelling orders to the men outside. Natasha turned to you, her hand gently brushing your arm. "Stay close to me," she commanded in a firm but gentle voice. "I won't let anything happen to you."

You nodded dazedly and let Natasha lead you out of the apartment. The hallway was filled with Natasha's men, their faces grim and watchful. They formed a protective barrier around you as you made your way to the elevator, the tension in the air palpable.

The elevator ride down felt like an eternity, the silence heavy with unspoken fears and questions. You clung to Natasha's arm, your head reeling from the events that had unfolded so quickly. The woman you thought you knew was a stranger, her life a series of secrets and shadows.

When you reached the ground floor, Maria signaled for the car to be called. Natasha held you close, her eyes scanning the area for signs of danger. The car stopped and the men quickly ushered you inside, the doors closing with a reassuring thud.

Maria slid into the driver's seat and looked back at you. "We're going to a safe house," she said in a commanding tone. "When we get there, we'll explain everything."

You nodded, your hands shaking as she held onto Natasha. The car sped through the city streets, the lights blurring in a haze of confusion and fear. Natasha's arm wrapped around you, her presence a small comfort in the midst of the chaos.

"Y/N," Natasha said softly, her voice breaking the silence. "I know you're scared and confused. I promise I'll explain everything. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

You looked up at Natasha, your eyes searching for the truth in her gaze. "I'll try," you whispered.

The car drove through the night, a silent vessel carrying you away from the life you had known. Exhaustion, fear, and shock finally took their toll, and despite your best efforts, your eyelids grew heavy. Your body succumbed to overwhelming fatigue. Natasha held you close, murmuring quiet reassurances until you slipped into a restless sleep.

When you woke up, the world felt disorientingly different. You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains. You slowly sat up, the luxurious silk sheets and soft pillows around you an unfamiliar comfort. The room was large, elegantly decorated with expensive furniture and artwork that spoke of wealth and power.

A knot of fear tightened in your chest. Where am I? Your mind raced, you tried to piece together the fragments of your last coherent memories. The confrontation with Viktor, the horrific car ride, Natasha's grim determination.

The bedroom door creaked open and Natasha stepped in, her expression softening when she saw you awake. "Y/N," she began in a soft voice.

Your heart lurched, fear mingling with anger. You climbed back onto the bed, your eyes widening. "Stay away from me," you said, your voice shaking. "I want answers. Now."

Natasha paused, pain flickering in her eyes, but she nodded. "I understand," she said quietly. "You deserve the truth.." You clutched the sheets, your knuckles white. "Where are we? What kind of place is this?"

"We're in a safe house," Natasha explained, her tone calm but serious. "One of many I have for when things get dangerous. We're in Spain, far away from the immediate threat."

"S-Spain!?" you repeated, raising your voice. "You took me out of the country? Without asking me!?"

Natasha took a step closer, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. "I had to, Y/N. It wasn't safe for you in the city anymore. Dreykov and his people would have found us and especially you.."

Your eyes flashed with anger. "And whose fault is that? You lied to me about everything. I don't even know who you are."

Natasha winced, but nodded, accepting the accusation. "You're right. I lied to you. But please, let me explain." Your silence was your only response, your eyes demanding the truth.

Natasha took a deep breath, her expression determined. "I'm part of the mafia, Y/N. The Bratva, to be precise. I've been involved in this world for years, long before we met. My role is... significant. I run operations, deal with threats, and yes, sometimes that means doing terrible things."

The words hung heavy in the air, the reality of Natasha's confession crashing down on you. "The Bratva?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I wrote about them. About you, without knowing it.."

Natasha's eyes softened. "I know. I read your articles." Tears filled your eyes, your world fell apart. "So it was all a lie? Our relationship, your love for me?"

"No!" Natasha said urgently, stepping closer. "That was real. Everything I felt for you, everything we shared was real. But I had to keep my other life a secret to protect you."

"Protect me?" you scoffed, the betrayal cutting deep. "You put me in more danger than I could have ever imagined!" Natasha's face twisted in pain. "I know. And I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted this. But I couldn't shirk my responsibility. Not without putting us both in even greater danger."

You shook your head, tears flowing over. "And Maria? She said she was a police officer. Is that at least true??" Natasha hesitated, then shook her head. "Maria is one of my most trusted allies. She's not a cop. She's part of the organization, someone I trust with my life."

Your heart broke again. "So another lie..."

"I didn't want it to be like this," Natasha said desperately. "I wanted to protect you, give you a normal life. But the world I live in... doesn't allow that."

Your voice trembled with anger and sadness. "I want to go home, Natasha. I want my life back." Natasha's expression turned sad. "You can't go back, Y/N. Not now. Dreykov's people will look for you. Staying here is the only way to pr-“

"I don't want your protection!" you say, your voice shaking. "I want my life back!" Natasha took a step closer, her eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N. I know you're scared and angry. But if you leave now, you'll be in even more danger. Give me time to fix this."

Your shoulders slumped, the weight of your emotions crushing you. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore, Natasha." Natasha's eyes filled with unshed tears. "I understand. But I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make this right."

As the night wore on, you lay in the unfamiliar bed, your mind raging with a storm of confusion, fear, and grief. The life you had known was shattered, and the future was a terrifying unknown. Yet despite the pain, there was a glimmer of hope, a weak, fragile thread of trust that Natasha desperately tried to hold onto.

In the silent darkness, you made a promise to yourself. You would find a way to get through this, to reclaim your life, and to understand the truth about the woman you loved. No matter how dangerous the path ahead, you would face him head on, with or without Natasha.

The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a soft glow on the luxurious bedroom. You stirred, the events of the previous night coming back to you as you blinked awake. The room, with its opulent furnishings and unfamiliar comfort, felt like a gilded cage.

The door opened and Natasha entered, her face a mixture of relief and concern when she saw Y/N awake. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

Your heart clenched, a whirlwind of emotions overwhelming you "I don't know," you admitted, your voice strained. "I still don't know if I can forgive you...You kill for a living Natasha...You have blood on your hands from what? How many?"

Natasha nodded, her expression pained. "I understand. But I'm here to answer all of your questions. I want to fix this as best I can.”

You look away, your mind racing. “I want to talk to Maria, if that is her real name,” you said firmly. “I want to hear her side of the story.”

Natasha hesitated, but then nodded. “Okay. I’ll bring her here.” A few moments later, Maria entered the room, her expression calm but serious. “Y/N,” she greeted in a respectful tone.

Your eyes narrowed, your trust shaken. “You lied to me too,” you accused. “You said you were from the police, for what?” Maria’s face softened with regret. “I’m sorry. We had to get out of this place as soon as possible. And yes, I’m not a police officer. I work with Natasha and my job is to ensure her safety and therefore yours too.”

Your anger flared. “How can I believe anything you say now?? How do I know you’re not just manipulating me?” Maria took a deep breath, her eyes serious. "You don't have to trust me, Y/N. But know that your safety is my priority. Natasha loves you and I respect that. I'm here to help you in any way I can."

You shook your head, the weight of betrayal weighing heavily on your heart. "I want to go home," you repeated firmly. "I don't want to stay here."

Natasha stepped forward, her eyes pleading. "Y/N, please.." You looked at Natasha, the pain of betrayal mixed with the remnants of love and trust. "I need time to think," you said quietly. "I need to figure everything out."

The days blurred into one another, each one feeling like an eternity as you mastered your new life on the sprawling estate. The house was a testament to opulence, each room carefully decorated with priceless art, luxurious furniture and cutting-edge technology. It was a palace compared to her humble abode, but the splendor did not ease the pain in your heart.

Every morning you wake up in the enormous bedroom, the bed too big and too empty. The silence was oppressive, only broken by the occasional rustle of curtains in the wind or the distant hum of the house staff's activity. Natasha had taken your words to heart, keeping a respectful distance and giving you the space you had asked for.

Despite the apparent freedom to explore the property, you were never truly alone. No matter where you went - the lavish living room with its panoramic views, the quiet library filled with rare books or the immaculate gardens filled with vibrant flowers - Natasha's men were always there. They followed you in silence, their presence a constant reminder of your gilded imprisonment.

One afternoon, the frustration and helplessness boiled over. You stood in the middle of the large foyer, your voice echoing through the vast space as you shouted at the men following you. "If you follow me for another second!! Get out of here!"

The men remained stoic, their expressions unchanged, their eyes fixed forward. Their training was impeccable, a testament to Natasha's influence. They didn't even flinch when your anger flared, their silence only heightening your sense of isolation.

"Do you hear me?" you shouted, your voice breaking with agitation. "I said leave me alone!" Still, there was no response. The men stood like statues, unwavering in their duty.

In desperation, you retreated to the garden, seeking solace among the blooming flowers and carefully tended hedges. You sat on a bench, burying your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks. The beauty around you was lost in the storm of your emotions.

As the days went by, you tried to find some semblance of normalcy. You spent hours in the library, losing yourself in books, hoping to escape the reality of your situation. You explored the many rooms of the estate, marveling at the luxury but feeling a pang of resentment at the life you had to leave behind.

Meals were a solitary affair, served in the large dining room by the staff. The food was exquisite, prepared by a chef whose skills surpassed anything you had ever experienced. Yet every bite tasted bitter, a reminder of the freedom you had lost.

Every night, as you lay in the enormous bed, your thoughts inevitably turned to Natasha. Despite the betrayal, you couldn't deny the love you still felt. It was a confusing tangle of emotions—love, anger, fear, and a longing for the truth.

One night, after another day of wandering alone and keeping silent vigil, you happened to find Natasha in the living room. The sight of her stirred something deep inside you - a mixture of longing and anger.

"Natasha," you said, your voice shaking. "Why are you doing this? Why can't you just let me go?"

Natasha looked up, her eyes filled with a sadness that matched yours. "I'm doing this to protect you, Y/N. How many times..! I know it doesn't look like it, but I'm trying-“

"Protect.." you scoffed, tears welling up in your eyes. "I don't feel safe. I feel like a prisoner." Natasha stepped closer, but you raised a hand and stopped her. "You said you wanted space, and I tried to give you that," Natasha said quietly. "But I can't leave you unprotected. The danger is still out there.”

Your heart ached under the weight of Natasha's words. Despite the anger and betrayal, you could see the genuine fear and worry in Natasha's eyes. “I don't know what to feel anymore,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I love you, but I hate what you did and what you still do.”

“I know,” Natasha whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “And I'm so sorry for everything. But I promise you, I'll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

As you left, you still felt a spark of hope—a faint, fragile thread that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way through this together. But now you had to navigate the maze of your emotions to find your own way in this new, uncertain world.

As days turned into weeks, your emotions shifted from confusion and sadness to burning anger. The more you saw of Natasha's world, the deeper your resentment grew. You overheard snippets of conversation, saw deals being made, and witnessed the machinations of a life based on power and deceit.

One evening, as you walked through the halls, you overheard a conversation that drove you mad. Two of Natasha's men were talking in low, conspiratorial tones.

"Remember the old days?" one of them said, his voice dripping with nostalgia. "When the boss had a different girl every week? It was a constant party..”

The other man laughed. “Oh man..that was pure cinema.. But it seems like things have changed. She is pretty attached to this girl now..Don't know what she gets from her- Well..I do know actually..She’s hot..”

Your heart clenched as you took the implication. So Natasha had used countless women before you and treated them like disposable toys..

If Natasha thought she could keep you under control, she would learn a very painful lesson. So you decided to turn the tables and play your own game. You would use Natasha's own methods against her and undermine her composure until she broke.

The next day, you dressed carefully, choosing an outfit that was both elegant and provocatively seductive. As you walked through the mansion, you made sure Natasha's men could see you. You smiled at them, your eyes lingering a little too long, your touch a little too familiar.

In the kitchen, you found yourself next to one of the guards, a tall, gruff man with a rough side. You leaned close to him, your voice soft and seductive. "Could you help me with something?" you asked, brushing your hand against his arm.

The man stiffened, visibly uncomfortable but unable to resist your charms. "Of course, miss," he replied, his voice strained. You smiled, a devilish glint in your eyes. "Thank you," you purred, letting your hand linger a moment longer than necessary.

Natasha entered the room just as you were laughing at something the guard had said. Her eyes narrowed, a hint of anger crossing her face. You met her gaze, your smile becoming cold and triumphant.

As the days went by, you upped your game. You flirted shamelessly with the guards, your laughter and touches becoming more and more obvious. You dodged Natasha's attempts at conversation, fending off her touches with cold indifference.

One evening, Natasha found you in the living room, your hand resting on a guard's arm as you laughed at something he had said. The guard looked uncomfortable, his eyes darting nervously to Natasha and he took a step back fearfully, "R-Romanoff, I-"

"Y/N," Natasha said, your voice strained with barely controlled anger. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

You turned around, your smile icy. Natasha waited until you were alone before she spoke, her eyes flashing. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her voice deep and dangerous.

You crossed your arms and met Natasha's gaze with a defiant look. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm just having a little fun. Or is that not allowed in your world?"

Natasha took a step closer, her anger palpable. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N." You laughed, your voice bitter. "A dangerous game? Like the one you played with all the other girls? Or am I just another toy for you, Natasha?"

Natasha flinched, the accusation hitting home. "You're not a toy for me, Y/N. I love-"

"Love?" you scoffed, "Is that what you call it? Keeping me locked up, surrounded by your men, while you go about your dirty business?" Natasha clenched her fists, her control slipping away. "You're here because it's the only way to keep you safe! When will you finally understand that!"

"THATS not true!!“ you shouted back, your anger boiling over. "I don't feel safe, Natasha. I feel like a prisoner. A prisoner in your twisted game!!" Natasha's eyes darkened, her composure finally breaking. "You have no idea what I've sacrificed for you," she growled. "What I've done to get you here.“

You stepped closer, your voice cold and venomous. "And I never asked for it. All I wanted was the truth. But you couldn't even give me that." Natasha's breath came in ragged gasps, her anger barely contained. "You're pushing me, Y/N," she warned, her voice a dangerous whisper.

You grinned, the excitement of rebellion sparkling in your eyes. "Maybe it's time someone hit back." The tension between you crackled, an explosive mix of anger, betrayal, and unresolved desire. Natasha took a step forward, her eyes locked on yours, her control hanging by a thread.

But before anything could happen, Maria stormed into the room with a grim expression. "We have a problem," she said in an urgent voice.

Natasha turned, her anger now ricocheting onto Maria as well. "What!?" Maria looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and concern. "It's dreykov."

Natasha's face hardened, her anger replaced by cold determination. She turned to you, her eyes burning with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "This isn't over," she said in a low, dangerous voice.

You returned her gaze, her own anger simmering. "No, it's not." As they prepared to leave, the tension between you remained, a simmering conflict that threatened to erupt at any moment. The game you were playing was dangerous and successful. But amidst your anger and betrayal, a spark of something deeper remained - a twisted, complicated love that refused to be extinguished.

As the tension between you and Natasha reached its boiling point, you still knew no bounds. You pushed every button, testing Natasha's patience with reckless abandon. But there was a line, a boundary that should never be crossed, and you were about to experience the consequences of your relentless rebellion.

In the dimly lit hallway, you walked ahead of Natasha, your footsteps echoing off the polished marble floors. You ignored Natasha's warnings, your anger driving her forward with reckless abandon. But Natasha was not to be trifled with, especially when her authority was challenged.

As you passed another security guard and whispered something in his ear, Natasha grabbed the man close in one swift movement. His eyes widened in surprise and fear.

Before you could speak, Natasha spoke, her voice low and deadly calm. "Look at him, Y/N," Natasha commanded, her grip on the guard tightening. "This man is loyal to me. He would do anything I command him to do, to serve me. And you, you dare to flirt with him, to play with his loyalty?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and shame coursing through your veins. Maybe you had pushed Natasha a little too far..

Natasha turned to the guard, her voice a chilling whisper. "Do you know how lucky you are to still be breathing?" she asked, boring into his eyes. The guard's throat worked as he swallowed nervously. "Yes, boss," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha let go of the guard, but her eyes didn't leave yours. "Remember this moment, Y/N," she said in a warning voice. "Remember who's in charge here. And remember what happens to those who dare to challenge me."

As Natasha tightened her grip on the guard, a rush of adrenaline shot through your veins, your heart pounding with fear and elation. Yet as the guard's submissive behavior unfolded before them, you expected Natasha to further establish her dominance to quell the rising tide of arousal within you. Natasha's response, however, was unexpectedly passive.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Natasha's calculated restraint, her eyes gleaming with cold, calculated intensity. The guard's submissive behavior only increased the tension in the air, leaving you feeling oddly exposed and vulnerable.

In that moment, as Natasha's voice echoed with a quiet threat, you felt a shiver of excitement run down your spine. But instead of fulfilling your expectations, Natasha remained distant, her expression unreadable.

With every step Natasha took toward you, you felt the pull of Natasha's dominance grow stronger, drawing you deeper into a world of dark desires and forbidden thrills. But Natasha's refusal to surrender to their shared arousal left you feeling unsteady, your longing for release colliding with your resentment toward Natasha's control.

And as Natasha walked past you, you knew you were standing on the edge of an abyss, your heart torn between the safety of the familiar and the tantalizing pull of the unknown.

Days later, you approach Natasha with a firm but polite voice. "I want to go out today." Natasha's eyes narrowed, suspicion immediately rising within her. "Going out? Where exactly?"

"Shopping," you answered, a hint of defiance in your tone. "I need new clothes, I didn't have time to pack my things."

Natasha shook her head. "No." You opened your mouth to argue, but Maria, who had been silently watching the exchange, stepped forward. "Natasha, maybe it's not such a bad idea."

Natasha gave Maria a warning look. "Excuse me?" Maria insisted. "Y/N needs to have a sense of freedom. Keeping her locked up here will only make things worse. We can make arrangements. I'll go with some of the men. It will be safe."

Natasha gritted her teeth, clearly torn between her protective instincts and Maria's reasoning. She shot you a look that hadn't faded from her defiant expression. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. But there will be conditions.”

“Of course there are,” you murmured quietly, although a spark of satisfaction shone in your eyes. “You will not walk around alone for a single second. I will be behind you at all times,” Natasha continued, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And you will always remain within sight. Understood?”

“Understood,” you agreed, your head already thinking about how you could use this trip to your advantage.

A short time later, you were ready to leave. Natasha had chosen a handful of her most trusted men to accompany her. The convoy of elegant black cars drove through the city, attracting curious glances from passersby.

When you arrived at an upscale shopping district, you wasted no time putting your plan into action. You entered the most expensive boutiques and chose one item after another with almost reckless devotion. Dresses, shoes, jewelry - nothing was forbidden to you.

Natasha lagged behind you, her expression a mask of icy self-control as her men carried the growing mountain of purchases. You took particular pleasure in handing heavy bags to Natasha, which she accepted with a stoic expression, her eyes never leaving yours.

Despite your anger and resentment, you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the sight of Natasha with her purchases. It was a small victory, a way to gain some control in a situation where you often felt powerless.

As the shopping spree continued, you decided to up your game. You had noticed the subtle tension in Natasha's demeanor and the fear in her men's eyes when she got too close. It was time to tighten the thumbscrews even more.

After hours of shopping in high-end boutiques, you led the group to a discreet, upscale lingerie store tucked away on a side street. Natasha's eyes narrowed as she read the shop sign, but she didn't object, just following you inside, her men and Maria behind her.

You browsed the shop with deliberate slowness, your fingers running over delicate lace and silk. She selected a series of slinky outfits, your expression one of concentrated contemplation as you walked to the dressing rooms.

Natasha stood at the entrance, her arms crossed and her face a mask of controlled impatience. Her men, however, looked decidedly uncomfortable, their eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

You tried on the outfits one by one, each more revealing than the last. After putting on the first set - a sheer black lace teddy - you left the dressing room and went straight to the large mirror in the middle of the shop.

You pretended to inspect the outfit, turning this way and that, making sure to give Natasha's men a look. The guards, visibly nervous, looked away, aware of the danger of looking at their boss's girl.

Maria, who was standing nearby, must have noticed your plan and had to suppress a laugh. She covered her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You caught Maria's gaze in the mirror and grinned before looking at Natasha. The mafia boss's expression was a textbook example of barely contained anger. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes flashed with dark intensity.

"What does it look like?" you asked in a sweet and innocent voice as you turned to Natasha.

Natasha's eyes studied you, the heat in her gaze unmistakable. "You know exactly what it looks like," she replied in a low and dangerous voice.

Undeterred, you returned to the dressing room and came out a few minutes later in a barely visible red satin babydoll. You repeated the image, turning slowly in front of the mirror, making sure every angle was visible to Natasha's men, who were becoming visibly more uncomfortable by the second.

One of the guards, a young man with a nervous twitch, glanced up briefly, only to catch Natasha's murderous gaze. He quickly looked away, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Maybe this one?" you wondered aloud, your eyes sparkling mischievously as she turned to Maria. "What do you think?"

Maria nodded, fighting to keep her composure. "It's... quite something," she managed, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

After a few more outfits - each more scandalous than the last - you decided you had made your point. You gathered your selection and walked to the counter. Natasha's men were visibly relieved to see the end of your ordeal.

Natasha approached you, her expression a mix of frustration and something darker, more primal. "Satisfied?" she asked with a low growl.

You looked up at her, feigning innocence. "Almost," you replied in a defiant tone. You led the group into a side street where a group of homeless people huddled together, their eyes tired and hopeless. Your heart softened at the sight and you felt a twinge of guilt for your previous pettiness.

With a determined look in your eyes, you began to hand out the expensive clothes and accessories to those in need, ignoring the confused expressions of Natasha and her men. The recipients accepted the gifts gratefully and incredulously, their faces beaming with joy.

Natasha watched in silence, her eyes narrowing as she tried to understand your motives. When you had almost given away the last of your purchases, you turned to Natasha, a hint of defiance still burning in her eyes.

"Money can't buy everything," you said quietly, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and conviction. "And it certainly can't buy my forgiveness."

Natasha took a step closer, her expression unreadable. "You think that makes up for challenging me? For risking your safety?"

You lifted your chin and met Natasha's gaze directly. "I think it shows that I'm not just a pawn in your game. I'm my own person and I won't let fear control me."

For a moment, the two women stood in a tense standoff, the air filled with unspoken emotions. Then, to your surprise, Natasha's expression softened ever so slightly.

"Let's go home," Natasha said quietly, turning to lead the way back to the cars.

After you all arrived, Natasha asked you to follow her. You paused and followed her to a room where a bench stood in front of a bed.

The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls, adding to the tension in the air. "Sit down," Natasha ordered, pointing to the chair next to the bed.

You obeyed, your mind racing with a mixture of defiance and questioning. You tried to appear casual, but the intensity of Natasha's gaze made your heart beat faster. Natasha leaned forward, her eyes boring into yours. "What was all this about today?" she asked in a deceptively calm voice. "You parade around in those outfits and make my men stare at you?"

You crossed your arms and tried to keep your composure. "I wanted to have a little fun," you answered, a hint of defiance in your voice. "I wanted to show you that I'm in control now."

Natasha's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering in their depths. "Did you like it?" she asked quietly, her voice menacing.

"Did you like them watching you?" You grinned with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Yes, I did. It felt good to turn the tables for once."

In an instant, Natasha was up from the bed and standing in front of you, her expression a mixture of anger and something darker, more primal. She grabbed your arm, pulled you up, and dragged you to the bed.

"You think you're in control?" Natasha hissed, her voice deep and threatening. "Let me show you what real control looks like."

Before you could protest, Natasha tied your limbs to the bedposts, the restraints cutting into your skin. "W-What are you doing?!" Your heart raced, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through your veins.

Natasha stepped back, never taking her eyes off you. She clapped her hands and the door opened, revealing two women entering the room with hesitant steps.

Your eyes widened in shock and confusion as Natasha led the women to the edge of the bed. "Watch." Natasha ordered you, her voice cold and commanding.

The women sensed the gravity of the situation and began to undress each other, their movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught, your emotions a chaotic storm of jealousy, arousal and helplessness.

Natasha leaned close to you, her breath hot in your ear. "This is control," she murmured, her voice dripping with seduction. "See how they obey? How they submit to my will?"

Your body tensed, your mind reeling. You tugged at the bonds, your need for release growing more desperate by the second. The sight of the two women pleasuring each other, their moans filling the room, was unbearable.

Natasha's hand caressed your cheek, her touch soothing and electrifying at the same time. "That could be you.." she whispered, her lips brushing your ear. "You could be the one I touch, the one I satisfy. But you have to understand your place."

Your eyes met Natasha's, your gaze defiant "No," you spat, fighting against the restraints. "I won't beg for you if that's what you want to achieve."

Natasha's smile grew wider, darker. "Oh. Detka, We'll see about that," she said quietly. She stepped back and handed one of the women a vibrator, then nodded at you. The woman approached, her eyes filled with curiosity and fear.

"Show her," Natasha ordered.

The woman turned on the vibrator and began to use it on herself, her moans growing louder as she neared climax. Your eyes widened, your own body reacting involuntarily to the display of raw, unfiltered pleasure before you. You tugged harder at the restraints, your resolve wavering.

"Do you still think you're in control?" Natasha asked, her voice as soft as velvet. "Look at her, Y/N. Look at how easily she submits."

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps. You tried to look away, but Natasha's hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to watch. The other woman joined in, their bodies writhing together, the sounds of their pleasure filling the room.

Natasha's lips touched your ear. "You want this, don't you? You want me to touch you, to make you feel this good."

You bit your lip, refusing to give in. You could feel your body shaking with desire, your core aching for release. But you wouldn't beg. You wouldn't give Natasha that satisfaction.

Natasha's hand slid down your stomach, stopping just short of where you most wanted to be touched. "All you have to do is beg," she whispered. "Beg for it, Y/N. Tell me you want it."

Your pride fought with your overwhelming desire. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to maintain your defiance. But the sight of the two women lost in ecstasy was too much. Your body betrayed you, arching towards Natasha's touch.

Natasha grinned, her fingers brushing your inner thigh. "Just say it," she purred. "Admit you need me."

Your resolve crumbled, your voice breaking as you whispered, "P-Please..."

Natasha's eyes gleamed triumphantly. "Louder," she commanded, her fingers moving closer.

"Please!" you repeated, your voice stronger now.

"Touch me, Natasha." Natasha's smile was cruel and victorious. "Good girl," she murmured and pulled her hands away. She untied your bonds and you looked at her in confusion. Then she ordered the girls to leave and looked at you again, "Good night, Y/n. See you tomorrow."

And left the room.

AAAAAHHH

🏷️ TAGLIST

@kipitou @thalia-is-not-ok @queen2234 @sgm616 @dorabledewdroop @natsxwife @natashaswife4125 @loneliestafterparty @jenniferjareauwife @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @agent99galanzo

#natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

510 notes · View notes