#Rare Boutique
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RAFE CAMERON - that’s so true
x HIGH MAINTENANCE! KOOK !FEM!reader - MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: you're insecure about your relationship with rafe, when he gets closer with sofia
WORD COUNT: +5.2k
GENRE: ANGST to fluff
CONTENT WARNING: /
listen to 'that's so true' from gracie abrams for better experience <3.
‘i could go and read your mind
think about your dumb face all the time
living in your glass house, i’m outside, uh’
the late afternoon sun filtered through the wide windows of tannyhill’s living room, casting a golden glow on the sprawling estate. you sat cross-legged on the plush cream couch, scrolling through your phone with one hand while idly tugging at the hem of your baby pink knit sweater with the other. notifications of luxury sales popped up intermittently, but your heart wasn’t in it today. instead, your mind was somewhere else. more accurately, on someone else.
across the room, rafe cameron leaned casually against the kitchen island, deep in conversation with sofia. the sound of her laugh—the kind that wasn’t too loud, not too fake—floated over, making your stomach twist.
sofia wasn’t your idea of a kook, not the kind who frequented boutiques or spent hours curating their aesthetic. her laid-back charm was effortless, her simple jeans and oversized hoodie a stark contrast to the tailored mini-skirt you had on. she didn’t even wear jewelry. yet, here she was, drawing rafe in with that natural ease, her hair in a messy braid like she didn’t care, and maybe she didn’t.
you hated how it made you feel. jealous. small. stupid.
“she’s kind,” you had said casually a week ago, after introducing him to her at a party. “quiet and smart girl. we grew up together.”
kind. quiet. the opposite of you.
rafe laughed at something she said, his face lighting up with that rare, genuine smile that made your chest ache. he looked at sofia like she reminded him of simpler times, back when life wasn’t all country club politics and family business drama. you tried to shove the feeling down, but it clawed its way back up, leaving you restless.
were you too much? the bi-weekly nail appointments, the balayage touch-ups every few months, the shopping sprees that felt more like therapy—was that what made you wrong for rafe? you’d caught a glimpse of sofia’s chipped nail polish earlier, and it was the type of thing rafe would probably call “charming.”
the thought was a jagged knife, twisting in your gut.
“babe, you good?” rafe’s voice broke your spiraling thoughts.
you looked up, startled, realizing he was staring at you now, his brows furrowed in mild concern. sofia was gone—when had she left?—and it was just you and rafe in the quiet hum of the room.
“yeah,” you lied, pasting on a smile. “just tired.”
“you sure?” he came closer, towering over you with his familiar scent of cologne and something distinctly rafe. his rough hand brushed your knee, a touch that was meant to reassure but only made you feel more exposed.
you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “positive.”
he didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. you let yourself sink into him, resting your head against his shoulder. the warmth of his body should’ve been comforting, but all it did was remind you of how far away you felt.
outside, the sun was setting, its rays casting shadows through the glass windows. you thought about sofia, imagined her in her car with the windows down, humming along to the radio, not worrying about being enough for anyone. and then you thought about yourself—polished, perfect, but perpetually on the outside, peering into rafe’s world, a world where you never felt like you truly fit.
rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
“of course,” you whispered, even though it wasn’t true.
‘looking into big blue eyes
did it just to hurt me and make me cry
smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life’
the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as you sat on the edge of the beach blanket, digging your manicured nails into the soft fabric. rafe and sofia were waist-deep in the ocean, laughing as the current pushed them around. she squealed when a wave hit her back, and rafe threw his head back in laughter, that easy, carefree laugh you loved so much.
but it wasn’t directed at you.
“you’re not going in?” sarah asked, plopping down next to you with her iced tea in hand. she stretched her legs out, glancing at you sideways.
“not really feeling it,” you replied, plastering on a smile as you smoothed the hem of your sundress. you didn’t trust yourself to look at the water again, not with how raw you were already feeling.
sofia’s voice cut through the air. “rafe! stop!” she shrieked, laughing as he splashed her with water. they looked like a scene out of some beachy rom-com—his strong frame towering over her, her golden-brown hair clinging to her neck as she playfully shoved him.
sarah gave you a look, one you didn’t need right now.
“what?” you asked, feigning confusion.
“don’t what me. you’re sitting here stewing when you should just talk to him.”
“there’s nothing to talk about,” you said quickly. too quickly.
sarah sighed. “you’ve been weird ever since sofia came back from europe. she’s your best friend. rafe’s your boyfriend. you need to chill.”
“yeah, i know that,” you snapped, guilt immediately twisting in your stomach. sarah wasn’t wrong, but the truth was too tangled for you to admit out loud.
you turned your head to steal another glance at them. sofia threw her head back in a laugh, her face turned toward the setting sun, water glistening off her skin like she was straight out of a magazine spread. and rafe, with his piercing blue eyes, couldn’t seem to look away from her.
your chest felt tight. you wanted to believe his gaze was harmless, that it was just the kind of attention sofia naturally drew wherever she went. but some dark, irrational part of you whispered that it wasn’t—that rafe was looking at sofia the way you wished he always looked at you.
they started heading back toward the beach, their laughter fading into the sound of the waves. you quickly fixed your expression, schooling it into something neutral, something practiced.
“hey!” sofia grinned as she plopped down next to you, wringing water out of her hair. “you missed out. the waves were amazing.”
“yeah, i just got my hair done,” you smiled lightly, ignoring the pang in your chest.
“your loss,” rafe said as he dropped beside you, his arm slinging around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.
you leaned into him, smiling like you always did. sofia leaned over to pull a drink out of the cooler, and your gaze flicked between her and rafe, catching a glimpse of his blue eyes lingering on her for just a second too long.
your heart sank. but you didn’t say anything.
instead, you smiled wider, locking it all away like you always did. this was your life, wasn’t it? loving rafe. loving sofia. watching them shine brighter than you ever could while you tried not to let the cracks show.
‘you’re an idiot, now i’m sure
now i’m positive, i should go and warn her’
the door to rafe’s room slammed shut behind you, the echo reverberating in your chest as you stood there, arms crossed, staring him down. the tension in the air was thick, neither of you willing to break the silence first.
it had started small, like these things always did. a casual question from rafe about why you’d been quiet lately, his concern laced with impatience when you deflected for the third time that day.
“you don’t even let me pay for anything anymore,” rafe said, his tone edged with irritation. “when was the last time you asked me to cover your nails, or your hair, or whatever? that’s what i’m here for.”
your stomach twisted, but you didn’t let it show. “i don’t need your money, rafe. i have my own.”
“that’s not the point,” he shot back, stepping closer. “it’s what i do. i’ve always done it. why are you shutting me out like this?”
“i’m not shutting you out,” you argued, your voice rising slightly. “i just don’t see why you have to make it a big deal every time i don’t ask you for something. maybe i don’t want to depend on you for every little thing.”
“that’s not what this is about, and you know it,” he said, his voice low, like he was trying to keep his temper in check. “you’ve been different, and now you’re acting like this is all on me?”
“i just don’t want to talk about it, okay?” you’d said, your voice sharper than you intended.
“that’s all you ever say now,” he shot back, raking a hand through his hair. “you’ve been acting weird for weeks, and i’m just supposed to ignore it?”
“i’m fine, rafe,” you insisted, even though you weren’t. not even close.
he let out a humorless laugh, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “you know, for someone who talks as much as you, you sure don’t know how to open up when it matters.”
the words stung, more than you wanted to admit. you hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he could take your worst fear—being too much and not enough at the same time—and throw it in your face without even realizing it.
“i’m going out,” you said abruptly, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.
“of course you are,” he muttered, not stopping you.
now, walking briskly through the cool, air-conditioned expanse of the shopping center, you tried to push the fight out of your mind. Retail therapy had always been your escape, and today was no different. the rhythmic click of your heels on the polished floor, the weight of designer bags in your hand—it was comforting, a distraction.
you turned into a high-end boutique, your favorite. the scent of expensive leather and vanilla greeted you, and you lost yourself in the rows of clothes, running your fingers over silky fabrics and embroidered details. you could almost forget the tightness in your chest, the ache that rafe’s words had left behind.
almost.
and then you saw her. sofia.
she was standing by the display of bags near the entrance, her back to you. she looked effortless as always, her hair falling in soft waves, her casual outfit perfectly understated. she was laughing softly at something the sales associate had said, the kind of laugh that seemed to echo in your mind even when she wasn’t there.
your heart twisted.
you thought about the fight with rafe, about how you’d stormed out without looking back. you thought about sofia, about how easy it was for her to exist in the same spaces you had to fight to belong in. and for a fleeting, bitter moment, you wondered if rafe would’ve preferred having her there instead of you.
she hadn’t seen you yet. you could walk over, say hi, pretend everything was fine like you always did. or you could keep going, let the distance grow a little wider.
you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder and turned on your heel, walking past the boutique’s floor-length windows without sparing her a glance.
your phone buzzed in your hand as you entered a store. a text from rafe.
r :3
we need to talk when you get home.
your stomach churned, but you didn’t reply. not yet. you couldn’t face him, not like this. not when you were still reeling from the fight and the sight of sofia, from the gnawing feeling that you didn’t know who you were mad at anymore—sofia, rafe, or yourself.
another buzz.
r :3
i sent you $100. get something you want.
a bitter laugh escaped your lips. was this his way of apologizing, or trying to prove a point?
you slipped your phone into your purse, plastering on a smile for the cashier as you handed over your credit card. this was your life, wasn’t it? smiling through it all, even when you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up.
‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool
kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room
wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’
the steady hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in your room as you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. the screen lit up with a new message from sofia.
s<3
hey, i was thinking we should all hang out at tannyhill tonight. you, me, sarah—just a chill night. what do you think?
you bit your lip, hesitating. it had been a long day of avoiding rafe and thinking about him and sofia, about their chemistry that felt so effortless. you and sofia had been best friends for years, but lately, every time she invited you to hang out, it felt like something was missing, like the space between you two had grown wider.
but still… you couldn't shake the feeling that if you went, you’d just be putting on a show, pretending everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. you didn’t even know what to say to her anymore, let alone to sarah. the thought of sitting around with them, pretending to have a good time, when your mind kept drifting back to the fight with rafe—it felt exhausting.
you typed out a response, your fingers heavy on the keys.
not tonight. don't feel good. rain check?
you stared at the message for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. rain check. you were avoiding them. you were avoiding everyone
you hit send.
the moment the message left your screen, you shoved your phone into the bedside drawer and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. the silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room suffocating. you closed your eyes, but even in the dark, your mind couldn’t stop spinning.
you imagined rafe at tannyhill with sofia and sarah. maybe they were all hanging out by the pool, laughing at some stupid joke sofia made, her hand casually brushing against rafe’s as they both leaned in to listen to sarah’s gossip. maybe rafe had his arm around sofia’s shoulders, that easy smile of his lighting up his face.
maybe rafe didn’t even notice how he was looking at her. maybe sofia didn’t even know how much it bothered you. but in your mind, it didn’t matter. they were perfect for each other in a way that you didn’t think you could ever be.
a dull ache spread through your chest, and your mind kept playing out the scene—rafe leaning in, talking to sofia in that easy, intimate way that made you feel invisible, like you didn’t even exist in the same world.
the thought hit you hard, almost like a punch to the gut. you’d seen them before, seen that look in his eyes when he wasn’t thinking about it, when it was so effortless. you had been there too. you had been the one sitting on the outside, watching the two of them, wondering if it was just in your head or if rafe truly felt something for sofia.
you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake the images from your mind. but the more you tried to push them away, the clearer they became. you could almost hear the sound of their laughter echoing in the distance, and it felt like you were drowning in it, unable to catch your breath.
you didn’t know when it had become like this, when everything had started to feel like a competition you weren’t even aware you were part of.
you heard your phone buzz from inside the drawer, pulling you from your thoughts.
a from rafe.
r :3
where are you?
you stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the reply button. what could you even say? that you were imagining him and sofia at tannyhill, laughing without a care? that you were afraid of losing him to someone like her?
you didn’t reply. instead, you slid your phone back into the drawer, pulled the covers over your head, and tried to forget everything for a little while longer.
‘what’d she do to get you off? (uh-huh)
taking down her hair like, “Oh my God!”
taking off your shirt, i did that once, or twice, uh’
‘no, i know, i know, fuck off (off)
but i think i like her, she’s so fun
wait, i think i hate her, i’m not that evolved’
the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the beach as you sat down on the sand, the familiar saltwater breeze blowing through your hair. kiara plopped down beside you, her sneakers kicking up a cloud of sand as she settled in, her brow furrowed in that way she did when she knew something was off.
“okay, seriously, what’s going on with you and rafe?” she asked, her voice gentle but direct.
you sighed, dropping your gaze to the sand between your feet. “what do you mean?”
kiara’s eyes softened with concern. “i haven’t seen you two together in forever. and you’ve been off, too. something’s not right.”
you let out a breath, staring at the horizon. “i don’t know, Kie. it’s... complicated.”
kiara raised an eyebrow. “complicated? that’s the word you use after dating for what—how long? over two years now?”
“yeah, well, that’s the thing,” you muttered, biting your lip. “it’s just been—” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “i don’t know. lately, it feels like rafe doesn’t even notice me. like, i’m always there, but not really there, you know?”
kiara tilted her head, studying you with concern. “what do you mean, not really there? he’s not paying attention to you?”
oyu shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “no, it’s like... he’s distant. he’s always been this way with me, but recently, it feels like it’s worse. like he’s more into sofia, or just... not into me, i guess. we’ve been fighting a lot.”
kiara was quiet for a moment, looking out at the waves. “okay, so, this has to do with sofia, doesn’t it?”
you let out a dry laugh, your gaze falling to your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “yeah. yeah, it does.”
kie glanced at you sharply, her eyes narrowing. “you’ve always been close with sofia, right? she’s your best friend.”
“i know,” you replied, almost too quickly. “i love sofia, so much. she’s my best friend. i should be happy for her, right? but—” you stopped yourself, the words forming before you could stop them. “but, something i think... i just hate her, too.”
kiara’s eyes softened, and she reached across the table, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“you’re not crazy for feeling this way. but don’t let it eat you alive. don’t let it destroy your relationship. if rafe’s the one, you need to talk to him about it. you need to tell him how you’re feeling, because keeping it all inside isn’t doing anyone any favors, especially not you.”
you took a shaky breath, feeling like there was more you needed to say, but didn’t have the words for. kiara was right, of course. you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it was falling apart, but how could you explain the mess of emotions that tangled inside you? how could you put into words the way you felt about sofia—how much you loved her, and at the same time, how much you resented her for just being everything you weren’t?
“you’re right,” you finally muttered, still not fully convinced. “i just don’t know if i can handle it. what if i tell him and it just makes things worse?”
she gave you a knowing look. “you’ll never know until you try.”
you looked out over the horizon, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows over the ground. you didn’t have the answers, but one thing was clear: you couldn’t keep living in this limbo, hating the things you couldn’t change, and pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. you needed to figure it out, for your own sake.
“thanks, kie,” you whispered, leaning back in your chair, the weight of your emotions still heavy, but just a little bit lighter now that you’d said it out loud.
‘i’m sorry she’s missing it, sad, sad boy
not my business, but i had to warn ya’
‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool
kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room
wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’
oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool (ooh)
but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude
ooh, that’s so true, ooh’
you had barely finished talking with kiara when your phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back to the screen. it was sofia.
hey, i just wanted to check in. are you mad at me? i feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately…
you froze, your heart tightening. it had been a few days since you’d distanced yourself from her, but you hadn’t meant to make her feel that way. your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say. you didn’t want to hurt sofia, but you didn’t know how to explain the mess inside your head.
after a few moments, you typed out a response, trying to keep it as light as possible.
i’m not mad at you, sof. just been dealing with some stuff. it’s not about you.
you hit send, watching the little bubbles appear as she started typing. but just before her reply came through, another text popped up. rafe.
hey, i just want to clear something up. sofia’s crying in Sarah’s room. she’s upset about something you said.
your stomach churned. you quickly opened the message.
i don’t know what exactly, but you’re wrong about what you said. she hasn’t done anything to you, and i think you need to talk to her. this is getting out of hand.
you sat there, staring at the message, feeling a mixture of guilt and confusion. what did rafe mean by that? what had you said that upset sofia? your mind raced, trying to piece things together, but all you could think about was the way he’d worded it—like you were the one who was in the wrong, like your feelings didn’t matter.
the weight of the words hung in the air, pressing down on you as you tried to make sense of everything.
sofia’s upset? you thought, feeling a pang of guilt wash over you. it wasn’t your intention to hurt her, not at all. but you couldn’t deny the feelings of frustration and jealousy that had been building up. you had felt pushed to the side, like you were being replaced by someone who was just… so much easier, so much cooler than you ever seemed to be.
why does she get everything so effortlessly? you wondered bitterly, remembering the way she seemed to shine so naturally in rafe’s world, her presence so casual, so unaffected. it only made your insecurities grow, but now it felt like you were the one in the wrong.
the next message from sofia finally came through.
i just don’t want to lose you as a friend. if something’s going on, i want to talk about it.
your heart dropped as you read it. you could feel the sincerity in her words, but also the pain. you couldn’t stand the thought of her being upset, especially when it was your fault. you’d always loved sofia, but this weird, twisted feeling you had—of hating her and wanting to be like her at the same time—wasn’t something you had ever known how to deal with.
a deep breath.
you thought about rafe’s message. about how he’d said you were wrong. he was always so quick to take sofia’s side, so quick to defend her, like you were the one in the wrong, even when you were just… trying to figure everything out.
you typed slowly, your fingers reluctant, still caught in the confusion.
i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset. i guess i’ve just been feeling a little off lately. things with rafe aren’t exactly… great right now.
you paused, rereading the words before hitting send, feeling vulnerable in a way you hadn’t in a long time.
not even a minute later, rafe’s name appeared on your screen again. this time, the message was short and to the point.
you need to talk to her, y/n. you’re blowing this out of proportion. just let it go and fix this shit.
the sting of his words hit harder than you expected. you clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to reply with something sharp. it wasn’t that you wanted to push him away—it was that you had no idea how to make him understand how this all made you feel.
you were getting lost in the frustration, in the feeling that no one really saw you, no one really understood where you were coming from.
but you knew you had to do something.
i’ll talk to her, you replied, the words feeling hollow. you didn’t know what you could say that would make everything right, but you knew you had to try.
you sat back against your pillow, staring at the screen, your mind racing. you thought about rafe, about sofia, about everything.
but you couldn’t let that be the end of it. not yet. you had to try. you had to fix it.
‘made it out alive, but i think i lost it.
said that i was fine, said it from the coffin.
remember how i died when you started walkin’?
that’s my life, that’s my life.’
the air was thick with tension as you stood in the living room with sofia and rafe, both of them waiting for you to say something, anything, that would explain the silence that had been hanging between you all for the past few days.
you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you had been holding inside. “i just, need to talk,” you said, your voice quieter than you’d intended, but it was enough to make them both focus on you.
sofia was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, looking at you with a mix of confusion and concern. rafe was leaning against the wall, arms folded too, his usual laid-back demeanor slightly tense.
“i know i’ve been distant lately, and i’ve been avoiding both of you, but it’s because of how i’ve been feeling… and i need you both to know that this is about me, not you.”
sofia raised an eyebrow, glancing at rafe before turning back to you. “what do you mean?”
you took a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as you let them spill out. “i’ve been feeling... insecure. i know it’s stupid, but when i see the way you two get along, it just—it gets to me. you and rafe, you make everything look so easy. and i feel like i have to work so much harder, just to keep his attention, just to feel like I’m enough.”
there was a long, heavy pause. rafe finally spoke, his voice gentle, his expression softening. “you’re wrong, though. i’m with you because i want to be with you. sofia and i are friends, nothing more. but you're the one i want.” he stepped forward, looking at you with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in a while. “i shouldn’t have let you feel that way. i’m sorry.”
sofia looked at you with wide, understanding eyes, her lips turning into a soft smile. “look, n/n, it took me forever to even get to a point where i could be okay with hanging out with him. no offense to you, rafe, but i didn’t want to mess things up for you because i didn't like him. i didn’t want you to think i was trying to steal him away from you. i thought if i could just get along with him, that it would make you feel better .i did it for you, because i thought that’s what you needed.”
your eyes softened, and you took a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of the situation lifting just a little. “i didn’t know that,” you whispered. “i thought... i thought maybe you two were just, i don’t know, better together. you’re both so effortless, and i feel like i’m always trying too hard to be perfect.”
sofia’s face softened as she stood up, walking over to you and pulling you into a tight hug. “you don’t need to be perfect. you’re perfect just the way you are.” she pulled back slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i don’t want you to ever think i’m a threat to you, okay? you’re my best friend, and nothing is going to change that.”
rafe, who had been watching quietly, took a deep breath, stepping forward to join you both. he reached out, pulling you into a hug as well, his voice low but sincere. “and i’m not going anywhere, babe. you’re the one for me. i’m not interested in anyone else, and i should’ve made that clearer before.”
oyu closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a rush of relief, a weight finally lifting off your shoulders. “i’m sorry, both of you,” you whispered. “i should’ve talked about this sooner instead of letting it fester.”
sofia laughed softly, wiping a tear from her cheek. “we’re good, okay? we’re all good now.”
you pulled back from her, still feeling the relief in your chest. “we’re good,” you echoed, smiling at her through your own tears.
there was a long moment of silence, and then rafe cleared his throat, awkwardly stepping back. “okay, okay, this is getting a little too emotional for me,” he said with a half-smile, trying to break the tension. “can we get back to the part where we all pretend we don’t have feelings?”
you both chuckled, wiping at your eyes and trying to stifle your laughter. you grinned at him. “aw, come on, don’t be so awkward about it. you’re so cute when you’re uncomfortable.”
“yeah, yeah, alright,” rafe muttered, looking between the two of you. “but seriously, if you two are done crying, y/n, i think you should get those nails done. they’re looking a little... tacky.” he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
you rolled your eyes playfully, looking down at your nails. “i know, right? they’ve been a disaster for weeks.”
sofia laughed, nodding. “let’s go get your nails done. it’ll be a perfect excuse to hang out together, and you can stop obsessing over whatever weird thoughts you’ve been having.”
you turned to rafe, your smile growing wider. “you know what? you’re right. they’re awful.” you made a dramatic gesture at your nails. “i need a new look.”
rafe smirked, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “i’ll pay for it,” he said casually, glancing at the wall. “go on, get whatever you want. i don’t care.”
you stared at him in surprise. “really?”
he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “yeah, why not? you deserve it. and i’ll do whatever makes you happy, okay?”
sofia looked at you, her grin widening. “see? even rafe knows you deserve a little treat.”
you shook your head, laughing softly. “alright, fine. let’s go. but only because i need a distraction from all the feelings today.”
the three of you made your way to the door, but before you stepped out, you turned to sofia, pulling her into another hug. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”
she squeezed you tight. “always. now, let’s get you those nails, and then i want to hear about everything.”
as you all walked out the door together, rafe following behind you, you couldn’t help but feel lighter, like a weight had finally been lifted. things weren’t perfect, but they were real. and for the first time in a while, you felt like everything was going to be okay.
“alright, alright,” rafe said, his voice teasing as he slapped his hands together. “let’s get this nail thing over with. and don’t get any too crazy designs.”
you laughed, leaning into sofia as you all walked down the street.
“promise,” you said, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was exactly where it needed to be.
‘i’ll put up a fight, taking out my earrings
don’t you know the vibe?
don’t you know the feeling?
‘you should spend the night,
catch me on your ceiling
that’s your prize, that’s your prize’
‘oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool
but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude,
ooh, that’s so true, ooh, ooh, uh’
#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚#girl writer#rafe x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe fluff#rafe angst#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#outer banks x reader#drew starkey x reader
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Hello! Been binged reading your Sylus hcs/fics and would want to try my shot in this request. How would Sylus react to MC using his black card but only spending it for like ice cream and simple stuff? Like, he's glad/amuse/or what that MC is using his card but became ?? when he saw what MC purchased? (I saw this thing on TikTok years ago but I couldn't remember the exact prompt). Tyia if this request makes it out!
sylus reaction to you spending his money
Sylus sits behind his large, mahogany desk, the dim lighting of his office casting shadows over his sharp features. His usual composed expression falters slightly as he pulls up the statement from his black card, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
He expected charges for high-end jewelry, exclusive fashion boutiques—things that exuded status and wealth. Instead, his dark gaze trails over the unexpected: ice cream parlors and… plushies from a toy store?
He stares at the screen for a moment longer, processing before a soft chuckle escapes him—something rare, almost amused.
You walk into the room, unaware of the reaction you’re about to receive. Sylus leans back in his chair, a slow smile creeping across his face, arms folded. His gaze follows you as you approach, clearly waiting for something.
“I didn’t realize you had such… expensive tastes” he says, voice laced with amusement. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes but his tone carries that usual, unshakeable power.
You blink, confused. “What do you mean?”
He taps his fingers lightly against the desk, still holding the black card statement. “Ice cream shops and let’s not forget the… plushies?”
Your confusion deepens and you nod slowly. “Yeah, the stuffed animals were cute. I couldn’t resist. Why?”
Sylus raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he stands up, stepping closer to you. “I gave you access to all my resources—jewelry, designer clothes, anything you wanted and you went for… a toy store.”
You stare at him, completely unphased by his teasing tone. “Well, yeah, what’s wrong with ice cream and plushies?”
He stops right in front of you, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Nothing at all sweetie ” he says softly, though there’s a trace of disbelief in his voice. “But you could’ve bought anything—something expensive, something luxurious—and you chose… something so adorable.”
“I don’t need all that other stuff” you reply, still not understanding why he’s so surprised.
Sylus chuckles again, shaking his head slightly. His hand brushes your cheek gently, his thumb tracing your jawline. “You really are something else” he murmurs, eyes filled with a mix of amusement and intrigue. “I expected you to be just like everyone else. But you’re full of surprises.”
He leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “Next time, at least let me take you for ice cream.”
You tilt your head, finally catching on to his teasing tone. “Oh, you thought I’d use it for something flashy?”
He pulls back, his expression softening, though his smirk remains. “Exactly. But you’re far cuter than that.”
#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#sylus x reader#sylus#sylus x you
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Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.
However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏
CHOCOLATE
Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.
Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.
Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.
James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.
"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.
You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."
"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."
"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."
There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”
“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”
He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”
Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.
“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.
“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”
You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”
“I like that you miss me.”
You huffed but couldn’t deny it.
“I’m missing you, too,” he said.
“James…” you breathed.
“Did you get the gift I sent?”
“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.
“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.
“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”
When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.
Or at least tease him.
The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.
The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.
JAMES: You have my interest piqued.
You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.
YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.
Three dots appeared straight away, and then
JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.
Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.
YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?
Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.
JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.
A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.
At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.
But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.
Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.
JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.
Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.
Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.
A text alert broke your reverie.
JAMES: Five minutes.
You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.
The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.
The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?
"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."
You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."
He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"
You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.
Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.
You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.
He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."
His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.
“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”
He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”
“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.
"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."
You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.
"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"
You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."
You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.
He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.
You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.
Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.
"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."
He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.
"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"
He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."
His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.
"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."
You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.
Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.
"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.
He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.
"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."
His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.
"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.
He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"
In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.
With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.
Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.
"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.
You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.
"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."
Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."
With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.
His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.
"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.
You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.
You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.
"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."
You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.
You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.
He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."
"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."
With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.
"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."
He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.
You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”
You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.
“When I breed you.”
You gasped.
He groaned and curled his body down over your back.
Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.
“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”
You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.
He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”
You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.
He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.
“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.
You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”
He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.
“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”
He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.
“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”
"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."
Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”
You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."
Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.
You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.
Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."
His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.
You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."
"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.
Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.
He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.
"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."
You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.
"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"
You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.
Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."
Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.
You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.
"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."
“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”
It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.
He wanted this.
He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.
Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.
"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."
His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.
"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."
As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.
"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.
With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.
You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.
You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.
"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."
He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."
His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.
Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.
For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.
"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.
Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."
You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.
After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."
You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."
He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."
You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.
"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.
He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."
You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”
“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”
“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.
He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."
You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.
You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.
"Open," Bucky murmured.
Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.
The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.
"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"
He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."
Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."
He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."
You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.
When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"
Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."
He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.
As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.
The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.
As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."
You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."
"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.
You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."
"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."
The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.
As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
Read more in the DEVOUR collection...
Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#mob au#bucky barnes fanfic#female reader#devour au#aspen wrote something#2200 followers celebration#askpen#kink: breeding#kink: food play
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Tempting Surprises | LN4
ᰔᩚ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/n have been dating for two months and are both in love but haven’t confessed. One Friday, Y/n decides to surprise Lando and finally take their relationship further. She asks him for money, buys sexy lingerie, and models it for him during dinner. As she reveals the final set, the tension between them escalates.
ᰔᩚ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
ᰔᩚ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.2k
ᰔᩚ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content
The sharp chime of her phone jolted Y/n awake, pulling her from the lingering fragments of a dream that had left her cheeks flushed. She blinked at the screen, the sunlight streaming through her curtains catching on the text notification.
Lando: Morning, love. Need anything? Coffee? Breakfast? Your favorite croissant from that bakery you won’t shut up about?
She bit her lip, stifling a laugh. Always so eager, she thought, but the fluttering in her chest betrayed how much she secretly loved his relentless attention. Still, she couldn’t let him off easy. Not yet.
Y/n: Actually… I need to ask you for something. Something important.
Her fingers hovered over the screen, and before she could second-guess herself, she hit send. The reply came almost instantly.
Lando: Name it. Anything.
Y/n: I need money. About £500.
There was a brief pause, and she could almost picture him raising an eyebrow, his lips curling into that mischievous grin she both adored and dreaded. Then, her phone buzzed again.
Lando: Done. Check your account. And don’t even think about paying me back.
A notification pinged moments later, and her eyes widened at the figure. It was more than she’d asked for—far more. She shook her head, muttering under her breath, “He’s ridiculous.” But the warmth spreading through her chest told her everything she needed to know. He wasn’t just indulging her; he was showing her, in his own way, how much she meant to him.
By noon, she was out the door, weaving through the bustling streets of London with a singular mission. The boutique windows gleamed with temptation, and she allowed herself a rare indulgence, stepping inside one after another to select pieces that made her feel powerful, desired, dangerous. Each lingerie set was a statement, a promise she intended to deliver on later that evening.
---
Lando arrived at her apartment precisely at 7 PM, his arms filled with takeaway bags. The aroma of sushi wafted through the air as he stepped inside, his bright blue/ green eyes scanning the room for her.
“You’re late,” Y/n teased, leaning against the doorway to her kitchen, her tone light but her gaze sharp enough to make him falter.
“Traffic,” he shot back, setting the bags down on the counter. “And I had to endure the smell of raw fish for you. Do you know how disgusting that is?”
She laughed, the sound soft and melodic, and crossed the room to inspect the food. Sure enough, there were her favorite rolls, perfectly arranged, alongside his more mundane choices. “You hate sushi, yet you still bring it every time. Why?”
He shrugged, his expression casual, but the intensity in his eyes gave him away. “Because it makes you smile.”
The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. She glanced away first, busying herself with plates and chopsticks, but her heart raced as if she’d run a marathon.
They ate in comfortable silence, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. Every brush of their hands as they reached for the same piece of ginger sent sparks racing up her arm. Lando watched her intently, his gaze lingering on her lips as she chewed, on the way her hair fell over her shoulder when she leaned forward.
When the last bite was gone, she stood abruptly, a sly smile playing on her lips. “I have a surprise for you.”
His eyebrows shot up, curiosity and excitement mingling in his expression. “Oh? Should I be scared?”
“Terrified,” she replied, disappearing into her bedroom before he could respond.
Lando sank back onto the sofa, his leg bouncing with anticipation. The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, the soft click of heels echoed down the hallway. His breath caught as she stepped into view, wearing a black lace bralette that clung to her curves like a second skin, paired with matching panties that left little to the imagination. The thin straps accentuated her shoulders, and the sheer fabric teased at what lay beneath.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.
Y/n smirked, twirling slowly to give him a full view. “Do you like it?”
“Like it? I—” He cut himself off, raking a hand through his hair as his eyes darkened. “You’re killing me.”
She giggled, the sound light and infectious, before retreating to her bedroom once more. When she reappeared, it was in a deep red set, the color vivid against her skin, the plunge of the bra daringly low. She struck a pose, her confidence radiating as she strutted toward him, only to stop just out of reach.
“And this one?” she asked, her voice dripping with mischief.
Lando’s jaw tightened, his hands gripping the edge of the sofa as if to anchor himself. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Who said anything about playing fair?” she shot back, vanishing again.
By the third set—a delicate white number adorned with pearls—his resolve was crumbling. His cock strained against his jeans, the outline unmistakable, and Y/n couldn’t help but revel in the power she held over him.
“You’re enjoying this,” he accused, his voice thick with frustration and arousal.
“Immensely,” she admitted, her grin widening.
The fourth and fifth sets pushed him further to the edge, but it was the sixth and final one that shattered whatever remained of his self-control. This time, there was no lace, no frills—just two small patches of fabric barely covering her nipples and a single string nestled between her thighs. Lando’s breath hitched, his knuckles white as he gripped the sofa, his entire body taut with need.
“Y/n…” Her name sounded like a plea, a prayer, and she felt a thrill at the sound.
She strolled toward him, her hips swaying deliberately, until she stood mere inches away. “Yes, Lando?” she purred, tilting her head as if daring him to make the next move.
But he didn’t speak. Instead, his hands shot out, grabbing her waist and pulling her down onto his lap. Their lips crashed together in a searing kiss, all pretense stripped away as the tension finally snapped. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned against her mouth, his grip tightening as if afraid she might disappear.
When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, Lando pressed his forehead to hers, his voice trembling. “You’re going to ruin me.”
She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Isn’t that the point?”
Lando’s lips trailed down her neck, his breath hot and urgent as he nipped at her collarbone. Y/n arched into him, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could fuse their bodies together. He murmured something incoherent against her skin, his hands sliding under her thighs to lift her effortlessly off the couch. She gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist instinctively, her heart pounding as he carried her toward the bedroom.
“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, his voice low and strained, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Do you even know what you do to me?”
She didn’t answer, just pressed her lips to his jawline, teeth grazing his stubble as she teased him with soft, fleeting kisses. Her touch was deliberate, every movement calculated to drive him wild. And it was working—his breathing was ragged, his steps quickening as they reached the doorway. He kicked it shut behind them with one foot, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
He laid her down gently on the bed, his eyes raking over her body like he couldn’t believe she was real. The last set of lingerie clung to her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination, and his hand trembled slightly as he reached out to trace the delicate lace at her hip.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. His fingers moved higher, brushing against the fabric that barely covered her breasts. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
Y/n bit her lip, her cheeks flushed as she watched him. God, he looked so good, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his hair disheveled from her hands. She reached up to finish what she’d started, undoing the rest of his buttons until his chest was bare. Her fingertips brushed over his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he shuddered under her touch.
“Lando…” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need you.”
Those words seemed to break whatever restraint he had left. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as his hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her. His touch was electric, sending sparks shooting through her veins as he slid the flimsy lingerie off her shoulders. His lips followed suit, trailing down her neck, her collarbone, until he reached her breast.
Her breath hitched as his tongue flicked over her nipple, teasing her relentlessly. She squirmed beneath him, her nails digging into his back as she tried to pull him closer. “Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Please…”
He chuckled darkly, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “So impatient,” he teased, his thumb brushing over her other nipple. “What happened to taking our time, hm?”
Y/n groaned, throwing her head back against the pillows. “You’re killing me.”
“Good.” His grin was wicked as his hand slid lower, slipping between her thighs. She gasped, arching off the bed as his fingers found her slick heat. He circled her clit slowly, deliberately, watching her reaction with rapt attention. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.”
She moaned, her hips rocking against his hand as he increased the pressure. Her eyes fluttered shut, her entire body coiled tight with tension. But just as she felt herself teetering on the edge, he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air.
“Lando!” she whined, glaring at him through hooded eyes.
“Patience, love,” he said, his smirk widening as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. Her gaze dropped to his cock, hard and throbbing, and her mouth went dry. He climbed back onto the bed, hovering over her as he kissed his way down her body, pausing to nip at her inner thighs before finally settling between her legs.
His tongue flicked against her in slow, torturous strokes, teasing her until she was writhing beneath him. Her hands fisted in the sheets, her thighs trembling as he worked her into a frenzy. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right to make her see stars.
“Oh god—” she cried out, her back arching as pleasure crashed over her in waves. She came undone, her vision blurring as he continued to lap at her, drawing out every last tremble until she collapsed bonelessly against the mattress.
Lando gave her a moment to recover, kissing his way back up her body until his lips met hers. She could taste herself on his tongue, and it only made her crave him more. She reached between them, wrapping her hand around his cock and guiding him to her entrance.
“Inside me,” she demanded, her voice shaking with need. “Now.”
He hesitated, his brow furrowing. “Are you sure—”
“Yes,” she interrupted, pulling him closer. “I’m sure.”
With a groan, he pressed into her, filling her inch by agonizing inch until he was fully sheathed. They both stilled for a moment, foreheads pressed together as they adjusted to the sensation. Then Y/n shifted her hips, urging him to move.
Lando obliged, setting a slow, steady pace that quickly built into something more frantic. His thrusts became deeper, harder, each one driving her closer to the edge. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in his skin as she urged him to go faster.
“God, you feel—” he broke off, his voice strangled as he buried his face in her neck. “You feel so fucking good.”
She could only nod, her own words lost in the haze of pleasure clouding her mind. Every nerve in her body was alight, every touch, every movement sending ripples of ecstasy through her. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned in response, his rhythm faltering.
When she felt him tense, his thrusts becoming erratic, she knew he was close. He pulled out suddenly, his hand wrapping around his cock as he spilled himself across her stomach and pussy. The sight of him, breathless and undone, sent a shiver down her spine.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room their labored breathing. Then Lando glanced down at her, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “You look so fucking hot like this,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction.
Y/n laughed softly, her cheeks burning as she reached for the sheet to clean herself up. But his hand stopped her, catching her wrist mid-motion.
“No,” he said, his tone firm but gentle. “Leave it. You’re perfect.”
Lando’s hand lingered on her wrist, his fingertips brushing against her skin in a way that made her pulse quicken. “Leave it,” he repeated, his voice low and husky, the words settling into the air like a command she couldn’t ignore. His eyes held hers, intense, filled with something she couldn’t quite name—admiration, desire, maybe even tenderness. She felt exposed, not just physically but emotionally, under the weight of his gaze.
Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heartbeat still racing. She glanced down at herself, her stomach streaked with him, and a flush crept up her neck. “You’re insane,” she muttered, though there was no bite to her words. Her voice was soft, almost shy, as if she weren’t entirely sure how to handle this version of him—the one who looked at her like she was everything.
He laughed, the sound warm and rich, and it sent a ripple of warmth through her chest. “Insane for you,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder. His lips were gentle, almost reverent, and it made her shiver.
She turned her head to look at him, her cheeks still pink. “You’re impossible,” she said, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“And yet here you are,” he teased, his fingers trailing up her arm. “Stuck with me.”
For a moment, they stayed like that, tangled together in the quiet aftermath. The room smelled of them, of sweat and sex, but there was also something sweet lingering in the air—something undeniably intimate. Y/n wasn’t used to this, to being so completely seen, so completely known by someone. It terrified her, but it also exhilarated her in a way she couldn’t explain.
Finally, Lando shifted, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her closer. “Come on,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “Let’s clean up.”
She hesitated, her body stiffening slightly at the thought of moving. But then he was sitting up, his hands gently guiding her to do the same. When she stood, her legs felt unsteady beneath her, but Lando was there instantly, his arm slipping around her waist to steady her.
“I’ve got you,” he said softly, his tone reassuring.
She nodded, letting him lead her toward the bathroom. The tile floor was cool beneath her feet, and the air was thick with steam as Lando turned on the shower. He adjusted the temperature carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration, before stepping back to let her step in first.
The water was warm, almost soothing as it cascaded over her skin. She closed her eyes, letting it wash away the remnants of what had just happened. But then she felt him behind her, his chest pressing against her back as his arms wrapped around her waist.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her shoulder.
She tilted her head, glancing back at him. “For what?”
“For tonight,” he said simply. His voice was soft, almost vulnerable, and it caught her off guard. “For trusting me.”
Her breath hitched, her heart swelling in her chest. She didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded, her fingers curling around his forearm as he held her.
They stood like that for a while, the water running over them, washing away the tension and the heat that had been building between them all night. It was strangely peaceful, standing there with him, their bodies pressed together without any expectation or urgency. Just… them.
Eventually, Lando reached for the soap, spreading it between his hands before smoothing it over her shoulders and down her arms. His touch was slow, deliberate, and she couldn’t help but lean into it.
“You know,” she began, her voice hesitant as she stared at the tiles in front of her. “I didn’t actually need the money.”
His hands paused for a moment, and she could feel his confusion radiating through the silence. Then, softly, he asked, “What do you mean?”
She swallowed hard, her cheeks heating as she forced the words out. “I… I used it to buy the lingerie. All of it.”
There was a beat of silence, and then he chuckled, the sound low and warm against her ear. “Fuck, Y/n,” he said, his hands resuming their gentle movements. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever done.”
She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re such an idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he corrected, his tone teasing but sincere.
Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and she turned to face him, her hands resting lightly against his chest. “Is that what you are?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He looked down at her, his expression softening as his hands came up to cup her face. “If you’ll have me,” he said, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone.
She didn’t know what to say, her mind racing as she searched his eyes for some hint of doubt or insincerity. But all she found was him—raw, unfiltered, and utterly honest. And for the first time, she let herself believe it.
Leaning up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was softer, slower than any they’d shared before. It wasn’t desperate or hungry; it was real. And when she pulled back, his hands were still on her face, his forehead resting against hers.
“You’re going to ruin me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
She smiled faintly, her fingers tracing patterns against his chest. “Funny,” she whispered. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
They stayed like that for a while longer, the water running over them as they held each other close. There were no more words, no teasing or jokes—just the two of them, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
But eventually, Lando broke the silence, his voice light and mischievous again as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “So… does this mean I get to pick out your next set of lingerie?”
She swatted his arm, laughing despite herself. “Don’t push your luck, Norris.”
He grinned, his hands sliding down to her hips as he pulled her closer. “Oh, I think my luck’s pretty damn good right now.”
#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula one x reader#f1 fic#formula one imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1#formula one x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n
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Hi!!<3 i really love your writing!! Im kinda new to tumblr but i was wondering if u could do like blue lock boys w a gf whos obsessed w jellycats?? That'd be really cute! Ty in advance!! ♡♡
Lesgoo with jellycats!!! Hiii i hope you will love this (≡^∇^≡)sae,nagi,kaiser
Sae Itoshi
Sae wasn’t one to get easily surprised or caught off guard but when he first walked into your room and saw the mountain of Jellycats he had to pause. There were bunnies cats whales and even an avocado plushie staring back at him with those signature beady eyes
He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms his usual deadpan tone slipping out “Do you… collect these or do they just multiply when I’m not looking?” You shot him an offended look clutching a bunny plush close to your chest.
“Sae collecting is an understatement. Jellycats are a lifestyle. Look at this face. Doesn’t it make you feel anything?” He tilted his head staring at the plushie like it might reveal some profound truth about life “It’s… fine I guess. It’s soft. But I don’t get why you need twenty of them”
Despite his stoic demeanor Sae slowly started to indulge your obsession in his own quiet way
♡ On one of his overseas trips he sent you a picture of a rare Jellycat he spotted in a boutique. Along with it was a message: “Do you want it Don’t make me regret asking"
♡ He once walked into your room to find you cuddling a Jellycat sloth while watching TV. He sighed but sat beside you subtly shifting the sloth onto his lap while pretending not to notice how soft it was.
♡ Occasionally he’d randomly toss a plushie at you muttering “Here you forgot your emotional support avocado”(づ ◕‿◕ )づ)
Nagi Seishiro
When Nagi first stepped into your room he froze. His usual sleepy expression shifted into mild confusion as he scanned the shelves bed and even the floor all covered in Jellycat plushies. There were so many that for a second he thought he might’ve walked into the wrong place
“Uh… what’s all this” he asked lazily scratching the back of his head. You looked up from where you were arranging your newest addition a chubby Jellycat turtle and grinned “They’re my Jellycats Aren’t they adorable”
Nagi squinted at the nearest one a large bashful bunny sitting on the edge of your desk. He picked it up and gave it a half-hearted squeeze “Kinda squishy… but why do you need so many They’re just plushies right”
You gasped dramatically snatching the bunny from his hands “Nagi take that back They’re not just plushies they’re family” Nagi blinked at you his usual blank look making it hard to tell what he was thinking “That’s a lot of family” he mumbled looking around again
Nagi wasn’t one to judge. If anything he thought it was a bit of a hassle but he quickly got used to the Jellycat invasion in your room
♡ One time during a gaming marathon at your place he fell asleep on your bed surrounded by plushies. When you came back you found him hugging a Jellycat shrimp to his chest completely knocked out. You couldn’t resist snapping a picture
♡ He once pointed at your new Jellycat sheep and said “This one looks weird… but I guess it’s okay.” That sheep became his favorite though he’d never admit it
♡ Occasionally when you weren’t paying attention he’d stack a few Jellycats on top of each other to see how tall he could make the pile before they toppled
Kaiser Michael
Kaiser prided himself on being a man of taste and sophistication. So when he first stepped into your room and saw an entire army of Jellycats staring back at him with their beady eyes, he was… speechless “Schatz, what… is this?” he asked, gesturing dramatically to the plushies scattered across your bed, shelves, and even the floor. You beamed, holding up a Jellycat penguin.
“These are my Jellycats. Aren’t they cute” He stared at the penguin, unimpressed “Cute? Sure. But why do you have so many of them? This looks like a toy store exploded in here” You frowned, clutching the penguin closer
“Kaiser, they’re not just toys. They’re art. Look at their craftsmanship. Their charm. Their squishiness”He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose “Of course. How could I possibly understand the ‘art’ of a stuffed avocado” he muttered under his breath
As much as Kaiser teased you about your Jellycat obsession, he couldn’t deny how happy they made you and begrudgingly, he started to indulge your quirky hobby
♡ On one of his trips to Europe, he sent you a picture of a Jellycat lion he saw in a boutique, along with the message: “Would this make your little collection complete or is it still missing a giraffe”
♡ He occasionally picked up a random plushie while lounging in your room, twirling it in his hands as he scrolled through his phone. Once, you caught him absentmindedly squeezing a Jellycat otter while pretending to ignore you
♡ He loved teasing you by calling your Jellycats “my competition” and dramatically acting jealous whenever you cuddled one more than him
Enjoy!
#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae x reader#sae x you#sae x reader#sae smut#sae itoshi x reader#bllk sae#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#nagi seishiro x you#nagi fluff#nagi x y/n#seishiro nagi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#bllk nagi#nagi x you#nagi seishiro#nagi smut#nagi x reader#micheal kaiser x reader#bllk kaiser#kaiser x reader#michael kaiser#blue lock kaiser#kaiser x you#bllk x you#bllk x reader#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x y/n#bluelock x reader
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Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 2/?)
Do you know what the main problem with addiction is? It's that it always demands more. And unfortunately for you, Silco was an addicted man.
Silco x fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Word Count: 5,2K
Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, oral sex (f!receiving), dirty talk, orgasm edging, overstimulation, you work in the brothel, Silco POV (when to start smut), Silco being the little control freak that he is. Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.
Part 1
Okay, I didn't expect the previous chapter to be so successful, so thank you to everyone who read it. Just a few warnings: Silco's actions can be quite controversial (you'll understand at the end), he's an antagonistic character and we have to recognize that he's not a saint. If you came here expecting something like "love at first sight", I'm sorry to tell you that there's going to be a long road to that. Remember, there's a fine line between love and obsession.
The month had flown by too quickly, and you barely noticed Silco's absence from the brothel. Since that night, he seemed to have vanished, and the days resumed their usual rhythm. With the generous bonus he had left, you managed to cut back on your workload, bringing a sliver of relief to your otherwise exhausting routine. Today was one of those calmer days. Your last session hadn't been physical; your regular client, Kate, a young woman with stunning green eyes, just wanted to talk.
You spent the time discussing her recent achievements. She had been clean from shimmer for three months and, with visible excitement, shared her plans to become a designer. She had even landed an internship at a boutique in Piltover. Despite being a paying client, your relationship with her felt closer to a friendship. You genuinely cared about her progress and rooted for her, even though you knew the harsh world of Piltover could extinguish the dreams of Zaunites as easily as a gust of wind snuffing out a candle.
The brothel had this misunderstood duality. It wasn't just a place of pleasure and debauchery, as many thought, but also a refuge for the lonely, even if those moments were as rare as fresh air in Zaun.
After the session, you sat at the vanity in the dressing room, touching up your makeup. It was a moment of pause, preparing to finally leave for the night. That's when hurried, hesitant footsteps reached your ears. Through the mirror, you saw Babette enter, her yordle face pale as if she'd seen a ghost.
"What's wrong, Babette?" you asked, frowning.
"He's back," she said in a hurried whisper, and you froze. There was no need to specify who. His name hung like a curse that no one dared to utter. "And he asked for you... in the same room."
A sigh escaped your lips as you nodded, trying to mask the storm brewing inside you. Your body moved automatically, brushing past a Babette who looked almost regretful on your behalf.
The conflicting sensations within you were hard to define—a mix of nerves and something akin to excitement. Part of you was eager to see him again, while another feared what this meeting might bring. It was a wave that swung between the warmth of reunion and the chill of apprehension. It was impossible to predict Silco's intentions with you.
Yet, despite the uncertainty, a part of you relished the idea of facing him again.
The curtains parted just as they had during your first meeting, and you stepped into the room with hesitant steps—but firm enough to mask the storm raging within you. There he was, Silco, seated on the sofa like he owned the world—or at least your little corner of chaos. This time, a cigar rested between his fingers, its smoke spiraling lazily toward the ceiling. A bottle of amber liquor and two glasses were set before him on the table.
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you regarded him, trying to keep your expression impassive. "Miss me?" The provocation slipped out in an almost sweet tone, but the mockery woven into the edges of your words was there for anyone sharp enough to catch. And, of course, he did.
His eyes lifted to meet yours, and the smile that formed on his lips was... unsettling. A slow, predatory smile that made your entire body tense, unsure whether to prepare for a fight or flight. But running from Silco was never really an option, was it?
"Miss you?" he repeated, his voice low, almost a dangerous purr, as he brought the cigar to his lips and took a long drag. The smoke escaped in a deliberate exhale as he leaned back even further into the sofa. "I've been rather busy, dove. Running a city isn't exactly a part-time job."
His voice carried an intensity that seemed to cut through your skin and lodge itself directly in your nerves. His eyes were a weapon all their own, assessing you with clinical precision as though he could decode every emotion you tried to hide. Frustration? Undoubtedly. Curiosity? Perhaps. And something else... something you refused to name but which made your stomach churn and your breath quicken.
"Ah, of course... I forgot you rule Zaun. I thought it was just a hobby of yours." The words left your mouth dripping with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at your lips. You knew exactly how to provoke him, even if it meant walking a tightrope with Silco.
But he laughed. Not a short or biting laugh, but a rich, full chuckle that echoed through the cramped walls of the room. His reaction was almost disconcerting, as if he were genuinely amused by your defiance.
"I prefer to think of it as a calling. Someone has to keep these streets in line, after all," Silco retorted, bringing the cigar back to his lips and taking a deep drag. "Drink with me." He gestured casually toward the empty glass beside his with a flick of his hand, as if this were the most normal thing in the world—as if he hadn't disappeared for an entire month and was now acting as though nothing had happened.
You blinked once, twice, frowning at his offer. Surprised was an understatement. Even so, your feet carried you to the sofa, where you sat down beside Silco. Your gaze drifted to the glass placed in front of you, but you made no move to pick it up.
"Drink something from you? I thought I'd made it clear I'm not naive." Your voice was sharp, cutting, and you made no effort to hide what you thought. The accusation lingered in the air, but Silco seemed unfazed. On the contrary, the smile on his lips deepened, as though your suspicion was yet another point in his favor.
"Relax, dove." He set the cigar in the ashtray and leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on yours. "I may be many things, but I'm not the type to drug my... companions. I prefer them fully aware of what's happening."
Before you could respond, you felt his hand rest on your thigh, his fingers drawing lazy circles over the fabric of your skirt. The touch was too light to be casual but confident enough to show he knew exactly what he was doing.
"Besides," he continued, leaning in a little closer, "I don't need tricks. You came to me willingly last time, remember? And I'm certain you'll do the same again."
You held your breath for a moment—not out of fear but from the tension building in the air. It had been mere minutes, and already you were spiraling into this dangerous, sexual dance. When he reached for the bottle and poured two glasses, the sound of the amber liquid filling the glass seemed to fill the charged space between you. He slid one of the glasses in your direction, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, and that fleeting touch was like a surge of heat, reigniting memories you'd rather not dwell on now.
The cold glass against your fingers was solid, tangible, but the same couldn't be said for Silco's intentions. Swirling the liquid in the glass, you watched its viscosity under the light, searching for any sign of hidden betrayal. You brought the glass to your nose, inhaling deeply. Nothing unusual. No suspicious scent. Just the strong, familiar aroma of an expensive drink.
"Now, don't be rude. It's a rare vintage, and I insist," he said, his voice dropping a few tones, more of a command than an invitation. "Or are you afraid you can't handle me after a drink?"
He raised his own glass to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours, taking a long sip and savoring the warmth the liquor seemed to bring. He was testing you, and you knew it.
"Oh... I can handle more than you think." You let the double meaning linger in the air, noting how quickly Silco caught on from the faint curl at the corner of his mouth. Then, your gaze shifted back to the drink in your hands.
A sigh escaped internally. Damn it. Against all your instincts, you decided to trust him—at least this once. Bringing the glass to your lips, you took a small sip.
The flavor was unexpected, complex. First, a gentle warmth spread across your tongue and slid down your throat, followed by a hint of sweetness that balanced the burn. You licked your lips, savoring the woody notes mingling with a subtle touch of caramel. It was... different. Something you'd never tasted before.
You almost let out a surprised sigh but managed to hold it back. However, you knew your expression had betrayed you. Worse still, you were certain Silco had noticed. His sharp gaze seemed to miss nothing, and he'd been watching you the entire time. Quickly recovering, you masked your face with indifference, though the effort felt pointless. Pretending nothing affected you had always been one of your sharpest weapons for surviving life in Zaun, but it seemed to fail irritatingly often when it came to him.
"So, tell me..." Silco resumed the conversation, his tone adopting a casual air, as if you were merely chatting. "What have you been up to while I've been away? I hope you haven't been entertaining any other clients in my absence."
"Well," you began, leaning back on the sofa, mimicking his casual tone while swirling the glass in your fingers, watching the liquid sway with the motion. "As far as I know, we're not exclusive."
You let your words hang in the air for a moment before taking another sip of your drink. This time, you kept your eyes fixed on the glass, pretending Silco's presence was just a shadow at the edge of your awareness. "So yes, I've been with other clients."
When you finally lifted your gaze, you met his eyes. They glimmered with something between amusement and danger, and the smile you offered Silco was anything but innocent. You knew you were playing with fire by provoking him so openly without any idea how he might react, but as the damned gambler you were, you could never resist a risky game—even if it meant losing your winning hand.
"Why?" you asked, your voice dripping with audacity as you calmly placed your now-empty glass on the table. "Are you jealous?"
"Jealous? No, I wouldn't say that." He paused, taking a slow, deliberate sip from his drink. "More like... protective. You see, dove, once I set my sights on something, I have a hard time sharing."
He set his glass down on the table with a faint but deliberate thud of glass against wood. You had pressed his buttons, that much was clear, but he didn't seem annoyed by your bratty attitude.
Silco settled back into the sofa, mirroring your posture, but with an air of authority that seemed to dominate the room. He leaned back slightly, his legs spreading just enough to make a point, the motion causing his coat to fall open. The glimpse of what looked like a holster at his hip seemed accidental—perhaps he didn't even remember carrying it. It was as natural to him as breathing.
He turned to you, his hand moving to your chin, tilting your face so your eyes would meet his. "But I'm a reasonable man," he continued, his tone soft, almost comforting, yet carrying an intensity that made your skin prickle. "I understand the nature of our... arrangement. You're a courtesan, and I'm merely a client. Nothing more, nothing less."
His thumb brushed against your lower lip, the touch as light as a feather, teasing. "Which is why I think it's time we renegotiate the terms, don't you?" His voice dropped a few tones lower. "I'm willing to pay for your exclusive services."
You couldn't deny the tension rippling through your body as Silco leaned in further, narrowing the space between you until his presence felt like the only thing that existed in your world. His touch on your chin was firm but not rough, a silent reminder of the absolute control he maintained over himself—and, in some ways, over you.
You allowed him to guide your face upward, a silent concession that you were willing to play along—at least within the rules that suited you.
His eyes were both an invitation and a threat, a contrast that should have been intimidating. But, to your surprise, you felt something else entirely.
It wasn't fear.
It was pride.
There was an unexpected, almost visceral pride within you, knowing that he wanted you—and made no effort to hide it. It was both unsettling and... perversely satisfying.
When Silco moved again toward you, the motion caused his coat to fall open further, fully revealing the holster strapped to his hip. The metallic gleam of the pistol's barrel caught the dim light, and your eyes lingered on it for a moment. The sight evoked a disconcerting mix of emotions: fear and excitement, battling for dominance within you.
You knew the gun wasn't there merely for protection. It was a silent statement, a symbol of power—and also of control. Silco didn't make empty threats, and the presence of that weapon made it abundantly clear. So classic, so predictable, you thought, though you couldn't deny there was something undeniably alluring about the image: danger so blatant yet so meticulously restrained.
That contrast was almost suffocating. The implicit threat of the weapon combined with the soft, almost intimate tone of his voice stirred something deep within you. It was a brutal reminder of the risks of being this close to him, but also irrefutable proof of the kind of power he wielded—not just physical but psychological.
This is not good, you told yourself, suppressing a shiver that could have been apprehension—or excitement. You knew how dangerous it would be to let Silco see you as his. The words you had spoken the last time you met applied to him perfectly, and to your misfortune, Silco was possessive by nature, his ambition only amplifying that trait.
But it was too late to turn back. You had already captured his attention once, and here he was again, returning to your arms like an addict seeking his next fix. And it was clear he wouldn't stop until he had you entirely.
"This negotiation..." you began, your voice lower, tinged with something that could have been scorn or desire, even you couldn't tell. "Isn't open."
The silence that followed was heavy, every word hanging in the air like a scale about to tip. There was refusal in your voice, but despite your efforts, there was also a trace of something else... something that could easily be mistaken for lust. And his gaze caught every nuance of it.
Slowly, your eyes drifted from his to his lips, but not before letting him see the small detour they took back to the pistol. As though you were weighing your options, calculating the risks, even though you knew all of them ended with him.
It was like walking a tightrope over an abyss, and both ends led directly to Silco. Two different fates, equally perilous.
"But," you continued, and your voice was almost a whisper now, deliberately laden with heat. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but the words had already taken shape. "You can try to convince me." It was a dangerous strategy, and Silco was toxic in every sense. But just like an addict depended on their drug, perhaps you could turn that dependence into an advantage for yourself.
Silco's eyes darkened, a fierce hunger burning within them as your defiant words left your lips. A low growl reverberated in his chest, heavy with intensity. He noticed the way your gaze roamed over him, like a flame consuming everything in its path. He also noticed—with dangerous satisfaction—the subtle quickening of your pulse, visible in the delicate line of your neck.
You were playing with fire, and Silco was more than willing to let you burn.
Before you could react, he moved with the swiftness of a serpent, pinning you against the couch. In one fluid motion, he seized control, trapping you beneath the weight of his body. His hands captured your wrists with firm precision, raising them above your head as he positioned himself between your thighs.
His hips pressed against yours, a slow and deliberate motion laden with intent. Your body acted before your mind could comprehend, arching to meet the contact.
"Oh, dove..." he murmured, his voice low and rough, each word caressing your skin like silk. His lips hovered near your throat, and you felt the warmth of his breath against the exposed skin. "I intend to convince you, and I think you'll find I'm quite... persuasive."
His lips found the curve of your neck, skimming over your skin with a dangerous blend of gentleness and possessiveness. When his teeth grazed your flesh, they didn't break the surface, but the implicit promise in every touch made your heart race. You knew he could, and you also knew you wouldn't fight him.
The control he exerted over you was intoxicating, but it wasn't just physical. There was something about the way he read you, how every sigh, every tremor of your body seemed to fuel him.
When his fingers released your wrists, you didn't move your hands from where he had placed them, as if the freedom he had given you was an illusion. Instead, you closed your eyes, feeling his hands glide down your body, his fingers tracing an almost lazy path that ignited every nerve in your skin.
His fingers reached the curve of your waist, pausing just long enough to apply a slight squeeze—a possessive touch that sent a shiver down your spine. He followed the contour of your hips, his movements as subtle as they were provocative. Then, with a deliberate motion, he tugged the hem of your skirt upward, revealing your skin inch by inch, as if each bit was a gift to be uncovered. The air grew heavier, each second stretching into eternity.
"You have no idea what you make me feel," he murmured, his voice a mix of confession and temptation, perhaps more to himself than to you. "The things I want to do to you..."
His breathing grew uneven, heavier, and before you realized it, your thighs tightened around his hips, as if to hold him there, in that exact place where the world seemed to have stopped.
"Then do them," you murmured, your voice hoarse, barely a whisper. This moment was his. And somehow, it didn't feel wrong, even though part of you knew you might regret it later.
But right now, in this instant, regret was the furthest thing from your mind.
Silco's Pov ━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━━
"Careful what you wish for, dove..."
Silco's eyes darkened with lust as he watched her writhe beneath him, her body arching into his touch as if she were starving for it. He could feel the heat of her core pressing against his cock, even through the layers of clothing that separated them, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to rip them off and bury himself inside her right then and there. To feel that warm feeling that had been trapped in his mind for that damn month of being away from her. But he held himself back, it wasn't about him this time, as he would have other opportunities. He wanted to savor every moment of her surrender, to engrave the memory of it in his mind for years to come.
Slowly, teasingly, he trailed his lips down the column of her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin before sucking on her pulse point, leaving a mark. Relishing the way she gasped and writhed beneath him, her hands finally moved to tangle in his hair.
He leaned back, standing erect with his gaze fixed on that which he now coveted. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs, exposing her to his hungry gaze. This was something he had wanted to do since their first meeting.
Silco settled between her thighs, his breath ghosting over her slick folds. He looked up at her through his lashes, his eyes glittering with dark promise. "Look at you, dove. So wet for me already... Such a needy little thing." he murmured before dipping his head and pressing a kiss to her clit.
He started slowly, his tongue lapping at her slit, savoring the taste of her arousal. He traced the seam of her lips, teasing her entrance before flicking his tongue over her clit, again and again, until she was writhing beneath him, her hands fisting in his hair.
He slid a finger inside her, then two, pumping them in and out of her tight heat, at first slowly. He curled them just so, searching for that special spot that would make her see stars. Silco felt her inner walls contract and vibrate around his fingers. He could tell she was getting close to her peak. Leaning down, he sealed his lips around her throbbing clit and sucked hard, flicking the sensitive nub quickly with the tip of his tongue.
At the same time, he pumped his fingers faster, rubbing mercilessly against that specific spot. Her thighs trembled and tensed on either side of his head as he took her right to the edge... then pulled back a little, wanting to prolong her torment a little longer before finally pushing her over the edge of blissful oblivion. He heard her whimper his name, her voice sounding tearful and frustrated. Then her little fingers tried to pull his face back into place between her thighs: "Easy, dove." He let his fingertip slide over her clit, circular motions that drove her to the edge, but weren't enough to give her what she wanted. "Silco..." her voice escaped in a hoarse moan, filled with a mixture of need and desperation. Sounding like a melody for Silco. "Say 'please' and I might let you cum." Silco's voice left no room for reply and this only made her even more frustrated. Her back arched and she tried again to pull Silco towards her. Her attempts failed. Silco then sped up the movement of her finger, noticing how easy it was to bring her to the edge again... and just as easy to slow down.
The second denied orgasm drew a reaction from her. "Please! Fuck.. I beg you... please!
He smirked as she begged so sweetly, the word "please" falling from her lips like a prayer. Oh, how he adored when she got like this - pride and poise cast aside in favor of raw, aching need. Silco was more than happy to oblige her, diving back in with renewed fervor. He savored the taste, groaning low in his throat as he feasted on her like a starving man, his fingers pumped steadily, curling just to brush that spot inside her. He felt her thighs clamp down around his head, heard her screaming his name as she came undone, her release flooding his mouth.
But Silco didn't stop. He kept going, riding her through her orgasm and straight into another, his tongue lashing at her sensitive flesh, his fingers pumping in and out of her clenching heat. He could feel her fighting it, her body tensing, trying to pull away from the too-much sensation, but he held her in place, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from her.
He felt her come again, harder this time, her body convulsing beneath him, her hands fisting in his hair so tightly it bordered on pain. He swallowed every drop of her release, groaning at the taste of her, the feel of her coming apart for him.
Only when she went limp beneath him, her body spent and trembling, did Silco finally relent. He pulled back, licking his lips as he admired his handiwork - His sweet dove sprawled on the couch, her chest heaving, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat. She looked utterly debauched, and fuck if it wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen. A sight that had to be for his eyes only.
"Perfect." He whispered to the void as you seemed to be passed out. Nothing could take away his sense of pride in having reduced you to a limp body lying on the couch, although a part—the one deep inside him—was irritated by the mere idea that someone else could do the same to you. "We can't let that happen, don't you think?"
A rhetorical question to which he already had an answer.
━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━━
You blacked out for a second. You'd like to say you lasted longer after the first, but that would be a blatant lie. With Silco consuming you completely—in presence, touch, scent, and the rough sound of his voice—it was impossible to resist. He pushed you to the edge once more, and when you finally fell, the orgasm that crashed over you was even more devastating than the first.
You collapsed onto your side, utterly boneless, as though every bone in your body had dissolved. The exhaustion was so overwhelming that the line between consciousness and unconsciousness blurred with each passing moment. Every muscle in your body screamed in surrender, yet you still found enough energy to let out a soft whimper as you adjusted your legs, trying to ease the discomfort.
Your body was in a state of hyperawareness. You could feel every little detail: the slow but persistent throbbing between your legs, the sensitive, swollen ache of your clit, both painful and pleasurable as the pressure of your thighs shifted.
The heavy silence of the room was broken only by the sound of your ragged, uneven breathing. Each breath felt like an effort, but you began to relax, letting your muscles go slack against the couch. And then you felt it.
His gaze.
Even with your eyes closed, you knew Silco was watching. It was impossible to ignore. Those eyes had the power to strip you bare, as though he could see beyond flesh, directly into what you tried to hide—vulnerability, desire, surrender.
Opening your eyes slowly, you blinked a few times, dislodging the tears that clung stubbornly to your lashes. Your lips curled into a trembling, tired but genuine smile as your gaze found his face. Silco didn't look away. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—dangerous and tender all at once—that made you shift uncomfortably, even in your exhaustion.
"That was the first time..." you began, your voice breathless, your chest still rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. "By Janna... twice in a row... How is that even possible?"
The words came out in an almost incredulous tone, with a hint of exhausted laughter. You didn't know how he did it, but it seemed Silco knew exactly what to do with your body. Where to touch, what to say, which buttons to press... absolutely everything.
"Give me a minute," you continued, your voice strained with fatigue. "I don't think I can do anything else right now. My body has officially shut down, and it's your fault."
Despite the exhaustion, there was a note of humor in your voice, something you knew he'd pick up on. But it was the truth. Every fiber of your being felt like it had been pushed to its limit, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you had no urge to fight it.
Silco leaned over you, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face with a surprisingly gentle, almost reverent gesture. The touch was a stark contrast to the roughness of his calloused fingers. "Don't worry about me, dove," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, like a whispered melody in the darkness. "I'm more than satisfied with how the night turned out."
He then pressed a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. The fleeting touch was almost contradictory, an unspoken promise hidden behind the faint, teasing smile that played on his lips. "Now, catch your breath. Compose yourself."
He moved away with his usual natural elegance. As he adjusted his clothes, straightening his suit with meticulous care, smoothing out his trousers; taking more careful care of this part for obvious reasons, and running his fingers through his slightly disheveled hair, you watched him silently. He seemed lost in his own world as he tidied himself.
Silco then turned his attention back to you, extending a steady hand to help you sit properly on the couch. With surprising care, he adjusted your skirt, a gesture that felt almost chivalrous coming from the same man who had undone it in the first place. But what truly caught your attention was the way he picked up the garment he had removed from you earlier—your underwear—and slipped it into his trouser pocket without even attempting to hide the act.
You opened your mouth, perhaps to protest, but before you could utter a word, he had already shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The weight of the expensive fabric pressed against your skin, warm from his body heat, carrying his unmistakable scent: lingering tobacco, worn leather, and a metallic note that reminded you of burnt gunpowder or rust. It wasn't necessary—you knew that—but he seemed to relish the idea of covering you, marking the moment with a gesture that was as possessive as it was protective.
"In any case," he said, his voice taking on a teasing tone as his hand rested firmly on your shoulder, the touch deliberate, "You can return the favor next time."
"So that's your excuse to come back to this brothel?" you replied, your tone laced with sarcasm as one eyebrow arched slightly. A sly smile curved your lips as you looked at him. "How predictable, Silco..."
"Oh, I assure you, dove," he murmured, his voice laden with a dangerous softness that made every word sound like a promise. "It's not the only reason I'll return. But, I must admit... it's a rather tempting incentive."
Yet, as he spoke those words, something shifted inside him. A dark and familiar shadow rose, staking its claim on his mind. Suddenly, Silco pulled back. His face, previously brimming with desire and mischief, turned into a mask of indifference.
"I need to go," he said abruptly, the tone of someone ending a conversation with no room for argument. "There's something I need to take care of."
And with that, without another word, he was gone.
Leaving you behind, confused, and his jacket.
[...]
The days following Silco's visit were a series of unsettling events. The changes came slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, but you had a knack for picking up on nuances. You were a survivor, and survival meant knowing when something was wrong before it became a bigger problem.
First, there were the furtive glances. Your colleagues at the brothel seemed to watch you with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. There were hushed whispers and abruptly interrupted conversations whenever you walked by. That wasn't new—gossip was as common as the smell of cheap perfume in that place. But this felt different now. Heavier. As if they knew something you didn't.
Then came the anonymous donation. A substantial amount of money, accompanied by a short and direct note, unsigned. Just three words: "For your comfort."
You found yourself staring at the note longer than you should have, the paper trembling slightly in your hands. The tone of the words seemed polite, even kind, but in context... there was no comfort in them. Only confirmation that someone was meddling in your life.
Finally—and perhaps most disturbingly—was the sudden drop in the number of clients. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, something seasonal. The brothel's clientele had its ups and downs, after all. But as the days went by, the reality became unmistakably clear.
The few men who still requested your company exhibited strange behaviors. Gone were the hungry gazes, the invasive touches. They were stiff, as if walking on eggshells, and most seemed incapable of relaxing in your presence. They didn't want closeness, avoided more intimate advances. Instead, they merely asked for your company, remained in an awkward silence while sitting far from you, and left far more money than necessary.
It was disconcerting. The break from routine, the absence of the predictable... it was almost worse than dealing with the unwanted touches you'd learned to ignore.
And then came the confirmation you didn't want. It arrived through a conversation you weren't invited to but overheard from the other side of a door: the men who had been appearing and specifically requesting you, were none other than subordinates of a certain chemical baron.
Silco. Part 3
#silco x reader#silco x you#reader insert#minors dni#arcane fanfic#arcane silco#smut#no beta we die like silco#arcane
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“HE MOVES MOUNTAINS AND POUNDS THEM TO GROUND AGAIN — bruce wayne.
PAIRING! bruce wayne 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS! bruce likes to spoil you, especially during christmas WORD COUNT! 3.4k WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, bruce ‘let me spoil my girl’ wayne + lmk if more! NOTES! wanna be spoiled by a rich guy sb , header bellow belongs to @/v6que © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
THE STREETS OF GOTHAM, OFTEN SO COLD AND CRUEL WERE CHANGED UNDER THE FIRST TRUE SNOWFALL OF THE SEASON. Blankets of pristine white coated the rooftops, softening the jagged skyline into something almost whimsical. The sidewalks were a patchwork of footprints and slush, as bustling crowds meandered through the early morning chill. Each breath of air carried the scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby stand, mingling with the crisp bite of snow.
Children’s laughter rang out in bursts, slicing through the muffled quiet that came with the falling flakes. A group of them had gathered at the corner of Robinson Park, throwing handfuls of powdery snow at one another while some tilted their heads back, tongues outstretched, hoping to catch a flake or two. Their squeals of delight painted the city in a light Gotham rarely allowed itself to wear.
Storefronts glowed with soft, twinkling lights, festive decorations hanging from doorways and window displays dressed in shimmering reds and golds. Every shop seemed to beckon, promising warm escapes and holiday cheer, from tiny mom-and-pop bookstores to designer boutiques with mannequins posed elegantly in the latest winter fashion. Salvation Army bells jingled near donation buckets, blending with the soft hum of carolers just off the main avenue.
The energy was infectious—families strolled arm in arm, couples leaned into one another for warmth, and even the loneliest passerby seemed to walk with a lighter step.
Christmas was approaching.
That was how you found yourself walking arm in arm with Bruce, the world narrowing to the warmth of his presence beside you despite the winter chill. His grip on your arm was steady and sure, his hand a comforting weight where it rested over yours. Even through your gloves, you could feel the faintest trace of his warmth, a contrast to the icy air that kissed you cheeks.
He guided you effortlessly through the busy crowd of people, and his towering frame acted as an anchor amidst the chaos. You noticed the way heads turned, how people instinctively parted to let him through—not just because he was Bruce Wayne, the name that commanded attention, but because he carried himself with a quiet, natural authority. Still, his touch on your arm was gentle, not hurried, as though he had no place to be except here with you.
“Do you think it’s going to stick?” you asked, nodding toward the layer of snow coating the rooftops and trees. Your breath slipped through your lips in visible puffs.
Bruce glanced skyward, his eyes softening in the glow of string lights overhead. “It’s Gotham,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. “The snow never lasts long. But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it while it’s here.”
There was something so rare about seeing him like this—relaxed, his usual sharp focus softened by the holiday atmosphere. His other hand reached up briefly, brushing a stray snowflake from her your before it could melt, his touch so natural it made your heart stutter. “You’ll let me know if you’re getting cold, won’t you?” he added, his gaze flickering down to you, concern laced in his words.
You tilted your head, a playful smirk curving your lips as you glanced up at him. “I’m fine, Bruce. I’ve survived Gotham winters before.”
The words were teasing, but when he looked down at you with that gentle, pointed expression—his brow slightly furrowed, lips tight with that quiet intensity—you felt the weight of it, as always. It was as if he could see through you, straight into your heart, expecting an answer more than just your usual wit. He always wanted to hear it. A simple reassurance, whether you were okay in his arms after a quality night with him or sharing a quiet moment in the middle of the city’s frenzy.
Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the teasing edge fading into something more genuine. “I’m okay,” you assured him quietly, words a whisper that seemed to linger in the cold air between the two of you. “Really.”
Bruce’s expression softened, but there was still that hint of concern in his eyes, the faintest crease in his brow. His lips parted for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I know you are,” he admitted. “But I like hearing it anyway.”
Your heart fluttered, and you gave him a soft, affectionate smile before he shifted his attention. Bruce pulled his phone from the pocket of his coat, the sleek device easily fitting in his hand, and he flicked through it with practiced ease. The light from the screen cast a subtle glow across his sharp features, revealing the concentration as he scanned his list.
“Alright,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Alfred’s gifts—need to pick up something special for him . . . then there’s Damian, Dick . . . Jason . . . oh, and Tim.” He paused, scrolling through the notes app, his brow furrowing just a little as he went over his meticulous list of people to buy for. “It’s harder than it sounds—every one of them has something they’ll really like.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the contrast between his usual effortless decisiveness and the almost comical way he planned out every detail. It was such a Bruce thing to do, and yet it was endearing in its own right. “It’s just shopping, Bruce,” you teased. “You’ve got enough money to buy Gotham if you really wanted. Just get them whatever’s shiny and expensive.”
He shot you a glance, lips quirking into a barely-there smile. “Not for them,” he replied, voice thoughtful. “They’re not impressed by the shiny stuff. I want to get something meaningful, even if they act like they don’t care.”
Your teasing smile faded into something softer, touched by the sincerity in his words. He was always thoughtful, always careful, and it was something you’d grown to admire more than anything else. But you still had to comment, your voice light again to keep things from becoming too serious.
“Alright then,” you said with the twinkle in your eyes Bruce adored to see, “just don’t forget the part where you buy me something too. You know, for the ‘special girl’ in your life?”
The man gave you a look, not quite amused but not entirely serious either, his fingers scrolling on his phone as he half-listened. “Of course. You’re on the list, don’t worry.”
The way he said it, though, with that glimmer of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, let you know he was absolutely serious with it. And you knew, in his own quiet, understated way, Bruce would spoil you just as much—if not more—than anyone else.
As you continued in your stroll down the street, the quiet chatter of the crowd around thr two of you felt like distant noise, a soft hum that blurred into the background as your gaze drifted to one of the storefront windows. Nestled in the corner of the display was a delicate bracelet—its silver links shimmering beneath the soft glow of the shop’s warm lights. Each facet of the small diamonds glistened, catching the light just right, creating a mesmerizing sparkle that seemed to draw you in without you even realizing it.
Your heart skipped a beat as you took a step closer, breath caught in your throat as you admired the elegance of the piece. It was everything you loved—simple, yet exquisite, with just the right amount of subtle luxury. You could already imagine it on your wrist, the way it would catch the light, how it would complement the delicate necklace you wore around your neck. But, of course, you couldn’t be too obvious.
You quickly forced your feet to move, pulling your gaze away with an almost guilty glance toward Bruce. You could feel the warmth of his presence beside you, and you tried your best not to linger too long, not wanting him to see the longing in your eyes. It wasn’t like you wanted him to buy it for you—you weren’t the type to ask for extravagant things—but the thought of having something so beautiful . . . well, it made your heart ache just a little.
But of course, Bruce noticed.
He always did.
Without skipping a beat, he slowed his pace to match yours, his sharp eyes flicking toward the window where you had just stopped. He said nothing at first, but his gaze was keen, taking in the way your attention had been captured by the bracelet. It didn’t take much to read the silent longing in your eyes, and though he didn’t say a word, his lips twitched upward in that knowing, almost amused way he often did when he could see through you better than you could see yourself.
“Something catched your eye?”
You turned to face him, offering a quick, almost embarrassed smile. “Oh, it’s nothing, really,” you waved a hand dismissively, though you couldn’t quite hide the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “Just . . . admiring.”
Bruce tilted his head slightly, as if debating whether to push you further or let it slide, but his gaze never left yours for a moment. “You know,” he started, his voice low, with a hint of amusement. He was enjoying the moment. “I’m pretty sure I could arrange for that bracelet to be . . . yours, if you really like it.”
Your heart skipped again, and you couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound was breathless. “Bruce, you don’t—”
“Don’t what?” he interrupted, his gaze flicking back to the bracelet. “You deserve something beautiful.”
You met his eyes, a warmth blossoming in your chest at the way he spoke so naturally, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. You didn’t need to ask. He’d already thought it through, already seen something you hadn’t even let yourself admit.
Bruce, as always, seemed to be one step ahead of her.
Before you could protest, he gave your hand a gentle but firm tug, guiding you toward the shop entrance with a determined stride. Your protests, half-hearted as they were, barely made it past your lips before you found yourself caught in his wake.
“I don’t think I need anything,” you started, but the words felt flimsy as he nudged open the door for you to enter first, the warm air from inside the shop spilling out like an invitation. The shop was just as elegant as the bracelet itself, filled with gleaming displays of luxury and an array of fine jewelry that made your eyes sparkle. Even the air smelled faintly of polished wood and expensive perfumes, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place in your cozy winter coat compared to the sleek interior.
Bruce, however, seemed perfectly at home.
He was already scanning the shelves with the kind of focus he reserved for planning an important mission, his eyes darting between the glimmering items like a child in a candy store. “What do you think of this?” he asked, pointing to a necklace encrusted with gorgeous diamonds, its center stone a vivid shade of sapphire. “Or this?” His finger then hovered over a ring so opulent it seemed to catch the light from every angle, a stunning emerald set in platinum, polished to perfection. “I’m sure you’d look incredible in this one.”
You had to laugh, despite yourself. “Bruce, they’re beautiful, but I don’t need anything like that,” you said, trying your best to steer him toward a less extravagant choice. You couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by how effortless he made it look—like money was a toy for him, to be spent and discarded without a second thought. But you weren’t that girl. You didn’t need diamonds and gold to know he cared.
Bruce merely glanced at you, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’m not saying you need it,” he explained with a knowing glance, “but you deserve it. Every piece in here, and more.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through you at his words. “I’m really fine with just looking.”
Yet, his hand never wavered as he pointed again—this time toward the stunning bracelet you eyed earlier, a sleek chain with delicate diamonds set into its links, glistening under the shop’s overhead lights. “What about this one?” he asked, voice smooth and persuasive, as though he knew exactly you would choose this one. “It would go so well with the necklace you already wear.”
Oh, he knew you so well.
Your breath caught for a moment. There it was—the same bracelet you’d seen outside, now glowing with the same captivating brilliance up close. You felt your resolve falter, but you quickly steadied yourself. “Bruce, it’s beautiful, but—”
He cut you off, his voice warm but insistent. “I know what you’re thinking, but I can tell you right now, it’s not too much. Not for you.” His gaze softened as he met your eyes, almost pleading with a subtle intensity that you couldn’t ignore. “Let me spoil you, sweet girl, just a little. You’ve earned it.”
You swallowed, your cheeks warming up with emotion at the sincerity in his words. It wasn’t the extravagant pieces he had pointed to earlier that made your heart swell; it was the thought behind it all. He was offering what you had always dreamed of—the luxury, the feeling of being cared for so much that it made you almost melt.
“Bruce, really,” you tried again, voice softer, more vulnerable now. “I don’t need any of this.”
But his eyes, dark and unwavering, held yours, and you knew—he was determined. And deep down, you knew there was no way to say no.
Your words hung in the air for a moment as you smiled sheepishly, trying to ease the tension you could feel building between them. “I was just window shopping. I wasn’t planning on buying anything. It’s just . . . pretty to look at, that’s all.”
But when Bruce’s expression shifted—eyes narrowing ever so slightly, lips pressing into a thin line—you instantly knew you had made a mistake. His posture straightened, his gaze hardening in that way you knew too well. It wasn’t anger, exactly, but something else—something deeper, like he’d just been presented with an insult he hadn’t expected.
“You were just window shopping?” His voice was soft, but there was a steel edge to it now, one that told you he wasn’t pleased with the idea of you limiting yourself to just looking. “With me?”
For a moment, you were silent, surprised by the strength of his reaction. It almost felt like he’d been wounded, as if the idea of you standing in front of something so beautiful—something you deserved—without actually taking it, was too much for him to bear. The hint of disappointment in his voice caught you off guard, a realization dawning on you that you’d underestimated him again.
“Bruce,” you started, your tone softer now, trying to piece together the right words. “It’s not that I didn’t want it . . . I just didn’t want you to—”
He shook his head, cutting you off gently. “No. You don’t just window shop when you’re with me, sweetheart. Not for things like this. You see something you like, you take it. And I’ll make sure you get it.”
You opened your mouth to protest again, but the gentle cut-off from him stilled the words before they could escape. And before you could even process the shift, his fingers were already moving—sliding his sleek black card from his wallet with an ease you had come to expect, but it still made your heart flutter every time he did it.
The sound of the card swiping against the boutique’s terminal felt like a soft crack of thunder in the quiet of the shop, and the realization you her all at once—he wasn’t just offering to buy you the bracelet. He was already doing it.
The cashier smiled warmly, already taking the sleek black card and ringing up the bracelet. The sparkle of the diamonds under the soft shop lighting seemed to mock your hesitation, making the choice you had avoided all along suddenly seem inevitable. Your gaze flicked from the bracelet to the man who liked spoiling you a little too much, then back again, your chest tightening with a swirl of emotions.
Bruce caught your eye, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t take no for an answer when it comes to you,” he murmured quietly, his words soft but sure, as though the decision had been made the moment he saw you admiring the piece. “You deserve to have everything you want.”
“I . . . I didn’t want to feel like I was asking too much,” you admitted softly to him, fingers lightly brushing the delicate fabric of your scarf.
He stepped closer and his voice lowered just for you, the softness of it carrying a weight that made your cheeks warm up. “Sweetheart, you’re not asking for anything. You’re not asking too much. You never have to. Let me spoil you, let me take care of you.”
Before you could give him a response, the cashier handed him the small box containing the bracelet, wrapped with a care that only seemed to make it more precious.
“Enjoy the holidays, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Bruce turned to you then, the box resting in his hand, his dark eyes fixed on you with an almost expectant look.
“Go ahead,” he urged, his voice soft but firm, “Try it on. It’s yours just like I said it would be.”
Your fingers hovered over the delicate box, the weight of Bruce’s words lingering in the air like a soft promise. You opened it slowly, almost reverently, and your breath caught in your throat as you saw the bracelet in its full brilliance for the first time up close. The diamonds caught the light, glinting like tiny stars, each one reflecting a different facet of the warmth you felt deep inside. It was beautiful, in a way that made you feel a little lightheaded, and as you slipped it onto your wrist, you couldn’t help but glance up at Bruce, who was watching you with an almost proud smile.
“It’s perfect.”
Bruce’s eyes softened with something close to satisfaction, but the teasing smirk tugging at his lips was unmistakable. “I told you it would be,” he said, his voice rich with affection—and something else, something playful that you knew all too well.
You smiled, reaching up to adjust the bracelet slightly, the delicate metal cool against your skin. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually buy it, though,” you admitted, still a little embarrassed by the extravagance of it all. “You could’ve just let me keep window shopping.”
“Window shopping, huh?” He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “You’re with me now. Window shopping isn’t a thing, sweetheart. Not for you. You deserve more than that.”
You laughed, shaking your head, but before you could say anything else, Bruce’s voice turned more teasing, that mischievous edge creeping back in. “Although,” he began, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something more, “now that you have that beautiful bracelet, I wonder what else you might need. I’m sure there are plenty of other lovely things out there for you. More necklaces? Maybe some earrings? Or,” he paused dramatically, looking you up and down with a grin, “how about a whole set?”
You rolled her eyes, half-amused and half-embarrassed by the thought of being so utterly spoiled. “Bruce, I don’t need a whole set.”
“Oh, but I insist,” he teased, his smile widening. “There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to you. I’d spoil you rotten if I could.”
You could hear the amusement in his voice, but there was a layer of genuine affection beneath it all. It was the way he looked at you, the way he spoke—like you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and nothing was too much to give.
For a moment, you let yourself bask in the warmth of that feeling, your new bracelet gleaming against your wrist, a symbol not just of his generosity but of something much deeper—the connection the two of you shared. “You’re impossible,” you laughed softly, but there was no real heat in your words. Only affection, and the quiet joy of being loved in a way you’d never quite expected.
Bruce’s smile softened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low and sincere. “I’m not impossible, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.”
#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne fluff#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne fanfiction#bruce wayne dc#bruce wayne batman#batman x fem!reader#batman x you#batman x reader#x reader#reader insert#batman fic#batman fanfiction#batman imagine#batman dc#dc x reader#dc comics#dcu#dcu x reader#dc universe#dc comics x reader#dc comics x you
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Giant Natural Ammolite (opalized ammonite shell) from Alberta, Canada. With the rare purple and blue colors.
Photo: Geologic Gallery | Boutique
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干爹
- second acc: @blushpawss
sugardaddy!sylus takes you to a high-end boutique in the city. the staff greet him by name, treating him like a regular customer. he insists that you pick out whatever you like, and when you hesitate, he gently nudges you forward with a reassuring smile. you try on several outfits, and each time you come out of the fitting room, his eyes light up. he makes you feel like you’re the most beautiful person in the world. after you choose something, he pays without a second thought, holding your hand as you leave the store with shopping bags in tow.
sugardaddy!sylus surprises you with a reservation at one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants. the atmosphere is elegant, with soft lighting and expensive decor. he pulls out your chair before you can sit, treating you with such care. the menu has no prices listed, but he doesn’t even glance at it before ordering the best dishes for both of you. throughout dinner, he listens attentively, smiling at your stories while reaching across the table to hold your hand. the night feels magical, and you realize just how much he enjoys spoiling you.
sugardaddy!sylus invites you to spend the weekend at his private villa by the beach. the house is enormous, with high ceilings, a pool overlooking the ocean, and every room decorated with style and comfort in mind. you explore the villa together, and he leads you to the balcony where there’s a perfect view of the sunset. you sit together, wrapped in a warm blanket as the breeze brushes by, and he tells you about his favorite memories of the place, promising that he’ll make many more with you here.
sugardaddy!sylus surprises you with a beautifully wrapped box. inside is a piece of jewelry—something elegant and understated, yet incredibly precious. he explains that it’s not just expensive, but it has a deep meaning to him, maybe something that belonged to a rare item he found on his travels. he gently fastens the necklace or bracelet around your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin. you can see the emotion in his eyes, and you know it’s not just about the money; it’s about what you mean to him.
sugardaddy!sylus wakes you up early one morning with a mischievous smile and tells you to pack a bag, hinting at a surprise. before you know it, you’re on his private jet, sipping a glass of juice while the plane soars above the clouds. he doesn’t reveal the destination until you’re almost there, teasing you the whole way. when you land, it’s a beautiful, remote island or a charming city you’ve always wanted to visit. he’s planned everything down to the smallest detail, and you can’t help but feel amazed by his thoughtfulness.
sugardaddy!sylus invites you to be his date at a high-society gala, where everyone is dressed in their finest. he sends a designer to your home with several elegant gowns, letting you choose the one you like the most. the night of the event, he picks you up in a sleek car, looking handsome in his tailored suit. as you arrive, all eyes are on you both, and he keeps you close, introducing you to important people. despite the grand setting, he makes sure you’re comfortable, always keeping you by his side, his arm around your waist.
sugardaddy!sylus arranges a private evening on his yacht, the boat anchored just off the coast. the deck is set up with soft cushions, fairy lights, and a candlelit dinner waiting for you. he steers the yacht himself, guiding it through calm waters under a sky full of stars. after dinner, he turns on soft music, and you dance together under the night sky, the gentle rocking of the boat adding to the moment. he pulls you close, his voice soft and gentle as he tells you how much he treasures nights like this with you.
sugardaddy!sylus wakes up in a soft, oversized bed in a beautiful hotel suite. the sunlight streams in through sheer curtains, and sylus is there, already awake, bringing you a tray of breakfast with fresh fruit, pastries, and your favorite drink. he’s wearing a robe, his hair slightly messy, looking relaxed and happy. you both enjoy breakfast in bed, laughing and talking without a care in the world. it’s a morning filled with gentle touches and quiet moments, the kind that you wish could last forever.
sugardaddy!sylus decides to treat you to a day at a high-end spa. the atmosphere is calm, with soft music and gentle scents in the air. you both enjoy a couple’s massage, side by side, feeling the stress melt away under the hands of expert masseuses. after that, there’s a private hot tub just for the two of you, with rose petals scattered on the surface. you lean back against him, the warm water soothing your body, and he whispers how happy he is to see you so relaxed.
sugardaddy!sylus takes you to a private cabin in the mountains for a winter getaway. the cabin is luxurious yet cozy, with a roaring fireplace and a view of snow-covered trees. one evening, a snowstorm hits, and you’re both stuck inside. sylus wraps you in a thick blanket, sitting by the fireplace with hot cocoa. you play a board game, talk, and watch the snow fall, feeling like the rest of the world is miles away.
#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x y/n#sylus x you#sylus fic#sylus fanfiction#sylus fluff#fluffy#fluff#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#x reader#x y/n#x you#x reader fluff#x you fluff#x y/n fluff#lads#lnds#l&ds#lads fluff#lnds fluff#l&ds fluff
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TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)
Immune: Nine
WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)
CW: Attempted suicide, unknown watching as someone gets changed, SIMON BEING THE CUTEST MAN ALIVE, kissing and bum spanking
Taglist: @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan
ANYTHING IN ITALICS IS A FLASHBACK
Masterlist
The summer air was a broil of wet leaves and burnt tar, roads simmering with clouded fogs of steam that snipped at the exposed flesh of your leg. Your bike was worn, tyres nearly flat from the consistent rummaging of scarred rocks tearing the innocent rubber into a battered mess.
Your legs were inflamed from the constant use, thighs straining against bones and weathered skin. Sweat stuck to you in a damp layer, the occasional fly suckling at the salty residue. There was a gentle strum of moans, ripped jaws sloshing against rotten teeth, skin a ghastly contrast against the greenery. They didn’t care for you, walking past you like you were one of them.
It was a sick punishment.
You thought back to the first couple of days after. After Vienna. Steel supported rough fingers, muzzle pointed under your chin, the chill of cold tickling down your throat, trapping your oesophagus with an arrogant choke. Nimble fingers unclicked the safety, a line of tears streaming down your face pathetically.
You didn’t do it. You weren’t sure which was weaker, staying or leaving.
Blood ran through your chest, beating down to the tips of your wrists, eyes gauging through the flesh as if you had x-ray vision. You would no doubt be scorned with blisters later, the sun kissing you with fat welts filled with liquid medicine as you rolled in used sheets, unable to sleep.
You stared down the winding road, a companion of butchered shops lined up by the corner, untouched. It wasn’t rare for you to venture far, always taking a main road that would eventually lead you home.
You pushed through glass doors, majority of the crystal shattered across the concrete. There was a gentle ding of a bell as you entered, a lone zombie trailing towards the noise, disappointed at the sudden disappearance of its senses as you smashed a blade into the centre of its head, the stench of death filling the shop as you gagged. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to the smell.
The store was disappointing at the front, but you knew the stock room held liquid gold. Your knees skidded over the counter, a till smashed across the floor as you laughed. You wriggled the STAFF ONLY door, your shoulders working to barge it open. There were unopened boxes of candy that caught your attention, sticky tape quickly stuck to the wall as you delved through, a child-like innocence adorning your face as you tore apart a chocolate wrapper.
A sick moan of satisfaction ran through you as you stuffed more bars in your bag, teeth rotting with gooey caramel. Your feet padded against the floor, achy limbs begging for a rest as you sat down on a bench, uncomfortable wood barely supporting you. You scoffed back an apple, a small container full of buttered bread soon resting in your stomach.
You groaned as you chugged the majority of your water, the liquid quenching the Sahara in your throat as it stained your chest, a light dribble working down your chin as you sighed. Eyes stared at the bike resting against a brick wall as you looked up, noticing the flock of birds make their way through the sky, gradual darkness soon blending into the baby blue.
Dirtied nails scraped against the glass of your final destination, a small boutique with a flickering sign greeting you with the smell of dust as you pushed the door open. Nimble fingers worked your sweaty top off as you tried clothes on, wiping the grotty mirror down with an ugly rag of a shirt.
Dark eyes watched you from a rooftop, covered face twisting into a scowl as he watched you prod at yourself in the mirror. Your flesh was greasy, a sweet shine covering your muscles as he fixated on the way you moved. He stared at you through the lens of a sniper before placing it next to him as you walked out, bag round with clothes and the minimal amount of food you could find.
You didn’t notice him, his body stealthy as he adjusted, eyes immersed in you as you rode off. They would head your way tomorrow, he decided.
Thick hands ploughed at the wood; an axe gripped between his fingers as you watched him intensely. Your eyes gawked at his biceps, chiselled muscles bulging under the sun, a glisten against his skin from his work.
“That enough?” His voice was thick, a mixture of molten and sweet honey lacing him. His aura was earthy and masculine, his need to prove himself to you evident as he looked to you for approval.
“Good enough for me,” you replied, attempting to grab a log of wood before he barked that he would do it, snatching it from your grip.
Your eyebrows twisted up in annoyance as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not useless, I was the one doing this before you all came along.”
“Didn’t mean to offend you, sweet’art, just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”
It was impressive watching him work; his forearms stuffed full of wood as he placed it in the small collector next to the fireplace. This was your first time being alone with him, his large frame was intimidating at first, but his shitty dad jokes couldn’t help but pull a smile from you.
You pulled him into the barn, introducing him to your cows, Daisy and Ted. He wasn’t fond of the names, but he felt himself nodding, watching the way you greeted them like they could speak, eyes full of admiration at the way you handled yourself.
“I’m hoping she gets pregnant, she’s my lifesaver,” you cooed, swatting the cow gently against her rump as she huffed out a breath. Simon raised a brow at you, a cocky smirk against his face.
“Don’t think about it,” you scowled as he turned around. Quick hands swatted at his ass as he grunted. Ghost was trained for anything, his hands at your waist as you squealed, quickly thrown over his shoulder with a huff before you were dropped in a bale of hay, endless giggles wracking through your chest as he peered down at you with a grumpy look.
You noticed his eyes crinkle as your laughter slowly subsided, both of you staring at each other with an amused look. His hands stilled at your waist, gripping them slightly with a warming touch.
“What’s your real name?”
He paused for a moment, thumb rubbing at your rising tummy, a pool of butterflies sinking into every crevice of the muscle. “Simon.”
You repeated it several times back to him, enjoying the way it fell from your lips as battered eyes focused on them, watching the way your tongue wriggled in the heat of your mouth as you spoke.
“You like it?” He asked, voice lower with nerves. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous. But he was.
You nodded at him, glancing from his eyes down to his mouth. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, bringing his hand to your cheek as your mouth opened slightly, eyes never leaving his. He paused, ready to turn away from you.
He didn’t.
Instead, he leaned in, pushing the mask down his chin in a rough manner before he kissed you, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip before easing it into your throat. He was strangely gentle, almost like he was scared to hurt you. The Lieutenant’s hands gripped your face as you pulled him in by the scruff of his neck, deepening the motion.
His eyes were voids of burnt sugar, a hinge of toffee speckling through as they merged into his iris. He was warm and inviting, the slight tang of his saliva running through your taste buds as he welcomed the sensation of you, a hand dropping to your throat with a delicate squeeze.
Simon pulled away with a slight gasp, catching the breath he wasn’t sure he was holding.
“I don’t want to rush you.”
You only smiled and brought him back in.
#evilgwrl#call of duty x reader#141 x reader#simon riley#ghost#ghost smut#simon Riley smut#gaz x reader#gaz smut#kyle gaz smut#gaz#soap smut#soap mactavish#soap#ghost x reader#kyle gaz x reader#captain price x reader#price smut#captain price smut#captain john price#poly!141 smut#poly 141 smut#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#141 smut#tf141 smut#tf 141 x reader#call of duty#cod smut#call of duty smut
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Hola babe!! Wondering how rafe would react to reader walking around with a short skirt/dress and no panties 🤭
-🍒
let’s be clear, this little habit of yours was only allowed within the confines of tannyhill. you rarely slept with panties on, usually a silk nightgown or one of rafe’s sufficed — unless you were feeling doll-like and wanted to put on a show for your doting boyfriend, then you’d be dressed in the finest array of lingerie while you walked around the estate. but, today you’d tried on the new pastel yellow crochet dress that you’d bought from a small boutique on the mainland, and you hated how your panty line disgustingly clashed the figure hugging fabric. you absolutely hated visible panty-lines — they ruined your pretty outfits.
so, with a small huff, you slid your panties down your legs, allowing the flimsy underwear to pool at your pedicured feet, before smiling at the vastly improved appearance of the dress. the yellow clashed beautiful with your sunkissed glow, your swollen breasts pushed up just right against the crochet fabric, due to the tie-up halter neckline. with a satisfied grin now expanding on your swollen, faded dusty rose lips, you smoothed your delicate hands over the soft fabric, before you slid your feet into your beige chanel sling back heels, cutely pouting your lips in the mirror as you gently ran your pearlescent acrylic nails through your freshly blown out hair.
in your biased mind, unless you looked uncomfortably close, the meticulously designed fabric of your dress covered everything it needed to, so you figured it would be okay for you to simply not tell rafe about your lack of underwear. if you played it cool, maybe he would too? either way, you were dead set on debuting this outfit as you went out for a lunch date with rafe. your slinky heels clicked and clacked against the hardwood floor as you made your way downstairs.
“papi, are you ready to go?” you sang, grabbing ahold of your chanel wristlet, making sure that it was filled with your emergency lipglosses and face powder, a sweet hum leaving your lips as rafe’s arm slid around your waist, “hi, baby — quieres un besito? i haven’t put on my lipgloss yet” you asked, running your hand down the side of rafe’s handsomely structured face, before running your hand through his buzzed hair as you turned to face him.
rafe was quick to swing his arm around the back of your neck, wordlessly pulling you into a purposely sloppy kiss, his tongue messily sliding against yours as you let out a muffled squeal into the kiss. you could hear a breathy chuckle leave rafe’s lips as he hastily pulled away from you, his lips shiny as you rolled your eyes, knowing that some of your makeup would be smeared. “raafe, i just did my makeup,” you whined, letting out an annoyed huff as rafe wiped his lips with an amused smirk, his ringed fingers swiping at the corners of his mouth as he adjusted the collar of white white linen button-up.
“you asked me if i wanted a kiss, mama,” rafe reminded you, his eyes falling on how the crocheted fabric stuck your your every curve. you mumbled something incoherently as you pressed a powder puff to your face, a displeased pout on your now smeared lips. rafe shamelessly ogled at you, his eyes hanging low as they watched how your plushy ass jiggled with every subtle move you made. his spit-coated lips now ran dry as you stood in direct sunglight, the silhouette of your inner thighs and unclothed pussy coming into view as you bent over to grab your tube of glittery hot pink lipgloss that fell to the floor.
with a sarcastic laugh, rafe clears his throat, “uh, princess, m’gonna ask you a question and i want you to tell me the truth, okay?” rafe sighed, his cocked to the side as he watched you freeze in place, the fabric of your dress stretched against the curve of your ass as you craned your neck to look at rafe from your bent position.
your doe eyes widened in fear as your wispy eyelashes blinked, you were quick to stand up straight, your chin up as you watched rafe take a breath, “are you wearing any panties?” he questioned, his eyebrows raised and pink lips parted as he awaited you answer. your boyfriend didn’t miss how you shifted your weight to lean on your hips, your swollen lips parting as you nodded your head, earning an amused laugh from rafe as he crossed his arms over his firm chest, “y’sure? m’not gonna ask you again,” he warned, his voice a bit raspy as he adjusted the band of his rolex to sit comfortably snug around his wrist.
“noo, but it’s because it made my dress look weird,” you whined, your smeared lips pulled into a pout as you approached rafe, your arms snaking around his waist as he rolled his eyes at your lame excuse. “i’m serious, it looked so fucking ugly,” you sighed, batting your doll lashes at rafe who couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatic you were being over a stupid panty.
mimicking your pout, rafe gently grabbed ahold of your cheeks, mushing them together, before pressing a chaste kiss to your mushed lips, “poor baby doesn’t wanna her panties, huh” he teased, mocking your whiny tone, earning a frustrated sigh from you. you could tell that he wasn’t sold on your reasoning and that in about ten seconds he was going to send you upstairs to change, “the thing is, i don’t wanna let your pretty pussy get all dirty, bein’ all out in the open like that,” he explained, his tone still disgustingly condescending as your doe eyes silently pleaded with him.
with an entitled roll of your eyes, you pulled away from rafe, childishly storming upstairs to your shared bedroom, leaving rafe to stand with his hands shoved in his pockets, “drop the fuckin’ attitude!” he called out, rolling his eyes as you wordlessly closed your bedroom door. “m’gonna fuck her up,” he mumbled to himself, letting out a strained sigh as he ran his large hands over his shaven face.
ꪆৎ
you were a spoiled little princess, eager to annoy rafe just because you didn’t get your way. you’d swapped your yellow dress for a crème colored mini knit dress, the swells of your cute tits on full display as you bent over to grab your purse that accidentally fallen on the ground, your lacy thong sucked in by the soft fat of your ass cheeks that were on full display as you stopped suddenly in front of rafe. with an annoyed grunt, rafe grabbed your arm, swiftly pulling you to stand straight as he reached down to grab your purse.
pulling down the hem of your ridiculously mini dress with his fingers, rafe shoved your purse into your small hand, before nudging your chin with the side of his ringed finger, “cut it the fuck out, y’being a fuckin’ brat,” he whispered into you ear as you shrugged carelessly, your glossed lips twisting into an annoyed frown as you exhaled sharply through your nose.
hastily pulling you closer to his chest, rafe pointed a finger at you, “i don’t know what the fuck is with you getting a fuckin’ attitude when you don’t get what you want, but you’re my girl, and m’not gonna have my fuckin’ girl walking around showing everything she’s got,” he scolded, his hand roughly squeezing your jaw as he forced you to keep your wandering gaze on him, “if y’don’t like that, then go be with one of those fucking pogues wouldn’t give a fuck about you and what happens to you,” he adds, the vein in his neck strained as your eyes welled with guilty tears.
“i don’t want them, i want you,” you blinked your tears away.
roughly releasing your jaw from his tight grip, rafe sends you a chilling look of warning, “then fuckin’ act like it,” he mutters, moving his sunglasses to cover his bright blues as he grabs your hand, leading you into the restaurant. his jaw tight as he walked aimlessly, eyes blown with frustration as you slowed down to a stop, tugging on your boyfriend’s arm. “what?” he snapped, his anger gradually dissipating as you rushed into his arms, your chin leaning into his heaving chest.
“i’m your girl, papi, only yours,” you batted your wispy lashes up at rafe, pushing yourself onto the tips of your toes. rafe forced himself to appear stoic as you kissed his lips, a troublesome smile pulling on your pouty lips, as you brought your mouth to his ear, “i think i just need you to fuck me, rafey,” you knowingly sighed, scratching your nails against rafe’s clothed abdomen, a giggle leaving your throat as he sighed in defeat.
that was all rafe needed to hear, before he began to pull you in the opposite direction of the restaurant, a yelp leaving your lips as he suddenly lifted you by your legs, hauling you over his shoulder as he eagerly made his way towards the backseat of his pickup truck.
you always knew how to get back in rafe’s good graces.
#asks#🍒 anon#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#obx#obx imagine#sweetheart!reader
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Thinking about how Sabo would steal all sorts of jewellery and expensive clothes from the nobles he encounters on his missions. He takes diamond bracelets, emerald rings, handbags worth more than his own bounty and clothes so rare they have waiting lists of almost a decade. Then when his mission is over he returns back to the base and gives it all as gifts to you, decking you out in the finest the four seas and the Grandline has to offer.
You don't know if it's his desire to provide for you and his own strange way of thanking you for loving him so beautifully or a way of reminding the nobles of what they have to loose and rubbing it in their faces that their important social status can be taken away so easily to be given to a commoner. Sabo is sadistic and arrogant, he burns with hatred and is motivated by a messy sense of justice but he loves you in his own weird way.
The luxurious bracelets and necklaces that cover your body and the high-end bags that you wear as though they were commonly found in a normal boutique are proof of that. He's arrogant but his arrogance always falls at your feet and submits to a desire to make you happy. However, sometimes his own whims have to win and the hours he spends between your legs as you lay sprawled out in your sheets decorated in priceless luxuries are his tools of revenge against those who oppress the world.
Sabo's tongue spreads the Revolutionary Army's message and criticises the nobles, but it also serves to make you feel good. His hands steal overpriced artisan objects and fight off corruption; but also clasp on expensive jewellery to your neck and caress your body so he never forgets how you feel pressed against him. He craves and loves you with a deep burning passion and he serves his job with that same passion. So it's only natural that they combine occasionally in your bedsheets and escape through your cries of pleasure beneath him.
#i could not tell you what this is#this genuinely just slipped out of me when i opened a blank post to write something else#this was my subconscious speaking#this is not proof read so be warned#sabo x reader#sabo one piece#sabo smut#sabo thirst#one piece thirst#sabo headcanons#one piece smut#sabo op#one piece x reader#one piece#revolutionary army
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ೃ⁀➷ white mustang ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢
╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x single!mother!reader imagine
a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!
˚ ༘♡ you were a single mother raising a four-year-old daughter in the bustling, unforgiving city of seoul. life had not unfolded as you once fantasized it might, instead, it had cornered you into a relentless cycle of poverty and struggle. you had married young, filled with hope and naivety, but those dreams were shattered when your husband abandoned you shortly after you announced your pregnancy. unable to bear the duties of fatherhood, he not only left but also cast you out of the home you once shared, leaving you to fend for yourself and your unborn child.
˚ ༘♡ your own family, steeped in tradition and pride, turned their backs on you as well. they viewed your divorce as a mark of shame, a stain on their honor. the fact that you would raise a child without a father was, in their eyes, an unforgivable disgrace. they refused to take you in, forcing you to seek refuge in whatever options you could find. eventually, you found work as a sales assistant at a small boutique, where the pay was barely enough to scrape by. minimum wage stretched thin over endless expense, formula, rent, utilities, and it quickly became apparent that even the bare necessities were a luxury. in a moment of sheer desperation, you began taking out loans amounting in tens of thousands of won, well aware you could never repay them. the interest piled up as fast as the bills, but the loans kept your daughter fed and clothed, albeit barely. you hated yourself for it, but there were no other choices that didn’t feel impossible.
˚ ༘♡ your home, if it could be called that, was on the less fortunate side of a narrow street lined with aging apartments and cracked sidewalks. the peeling paint and broken railings were a daily reminder of your circumstances. yet, even amidst your despair, you couldn’t help but notice the contrast a few blocks over, a wealthier stretch of the same neighborhood, where sleek cars parked outside magnificent homes and prosperity seemed to flourish. it was during one of your daily walks to the bus stop, your daughter’s tiny hand clutching yours, that you first noticed him.
˚ ༘♡ cho sang-woo. a man who seemed completely out of place in your reality but belonged so effortlessly to the better half of the neighborhood. his polished suits, sharp gaze, and air of quiet confidence spoke of success and power. you didn’t know much about him, only the whispered details you overheard at the local convenience store. he was a former student of seoul university, where he graduated at the top of his class, and he now worked at joy investments, one of the most prestigious firms in the city. he lived in the nicer part of the street, a place that might as well have been a world apart from yours.
˚ ༘♡ for weeks, your paths crossed without words. you would see him on the way to work, his brisk stride purposeful and somehow detached. you’d clutch your daughter’s hand tightly as she skipped beside you, her laughter a rare mirthful mark in your otherwise gray days. sometimes, you wondered if he noticed you at all, or if to him, you were just another melancholic face in the crowd. but there was something in the way his eyes briefly wandered to yours, a swift, barely noticeable moment of acknowledgment, almost imperceptible but not absent.
˚ ༘♡ a month passed without much change. you worked long hours at the boutique, came home to your daughter’s laughter echoing in the small apartment, and fell asleep each night with exhaustion pressing against your chest. spring had arrived, softening the chill in the air and filling the streets with blossoms and a sense of renewal you couldn’t quite feel for yourself. still, you tried to give your daughter a taste of joy, taking her for walks when time allowed, letting her skip along the sidewalks as if the world weren’t so cynical.
˚ ༘♡ one bright afternoon, the kind that made the city’s grime seem almost picturesque, you saw him again. cho sang-woo stood ahead, unmistakable in his dark business suit. the clean lines of his attire and the polished leather of his shoes seemed to set him apart from the bustling, chaotic world around him. his square-rimmed glasses caught the sunlight, and his expression, though composed, held a trace of warmth when he noticed you approaching. he lifted a hand in a brief wave and nodded. “good morning,” he greeted, his tone polite but personable.
˚ ༘♡ you returned his nod with a soft smile, your daughter tugging lightly at your hand. “good morning to you as well, sir,” you replied, your voice calm, though you felt a twinge of surprise that he’d acknowledged you.
˚ ༘♡ your daughter, far less reserved, beamed up at him, her youthful cheer impossible to contain. “hello, sir!” she exclaimed with a giggle, her small voice cutting through the hum of the city.
˚ ༘♡ he stopped in his tracks, the corners of his mouth lifting in a genuine grin. “how old is she?” he asked, his gaze shifting to your daughter, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.
˚ ༘♡ “four years old as of last month,” you replied, brushing a hand over her dark hair with a hint of pride you didn’t bother hiding.
˚ ༘♡ he adjusted his glasses, the gesture quick and practiced, before replying, “she’s a clever child. you’re blessed to have her.”
˚ ༘♡ his words, spoken so simply yet with unmistakable sincerity, stirred something in you. “i tell myself that every day,” you said quietly, your fingers tightening gently around your daughter’s small hand.
˚ ༘♡ he didn’t seem rushed to leave, lingering as though the conversation mattered more than wherever he was headed. his questions were unintrusive, small talk about the weather, the flowers blooming along the street, and whether you’d been in the neighborhood long. you answered politely, aware of the contrast between his world and yours yet struck by how easily he spoke to you.
˚ ༘♡ after a few minutes, he glanced at his watch, a subtle flare of responsibility returning to his expression. “i’d better get going,” he said, though there was no impatience in his tone. “it was nice talking to you.”
˚ ༘♡ “and to you,” you replied, dipping your head slightly.
˚ ༘♡ he offered your daughter one last smile before walking away, his pace measured, his presence lingering even as he disappeared down the street. you watched him for a moment, then turned back to your daughter, who was already pulling you toward the park.
˚ ༘♡ from that day on, whenever your paths crossed, he made a point to stop and speak with you. at first, the exchanges were brief, a polite inquiry about your day or a comment on how quickly your daughter was growing. but as the weeks passed, the conversations stretched longer, even when his crisp attire and leather briefcase suggested a packed schedule. he would pause, leaning slightly toward you as he spoke, his words carrying a kind of attentiveness you hadn’t encountered in a long time. those encounters, swift as they were, began to carve a small space of solace into the otherwise monotonous routine of your days.
˚ ༘♡ one quiet afternoon, as you were tidying up after a long day, the phone rang. you glanced at the screen and saw sang-woo’s name flashing. you hesitated for a moment, unsure why he was calling, but you picked up. his voice on the other end was casual yet warm. “would you like to grab dinner tonight? nothing fancy, something simple,” he said, his tone friendly enough to put you at ease.
˚ ༘♡ you smiled softly, though he couldn’t see it. “i’d like to, but i can’t leave my daughter home alone,” you replied, your words tinged with regret. her well-being was always your priority, and you weren’t in a position to make exceptions.
˚ ༘♡ he didn’t hesitate to reply. “then bring her along,” he insisted without hesitation. “it’ll be fun for all of us, and i couldn’t think of leaving her out.”
˚ ༘♡ his sincerity made it hard to say no. after a brief pause, you agreed, telling him you’d meet him shortly. your daughter, wide-eyed and excited, picked the dinner, a feast of fried chicken and tteokbokki. it wasn’t what you considered a balanced meal, but sang-woo laughed softly when you voiced your concerns. “an occasional indulgence won’t hurt,” he reassured you, his tone effortlessly convincing. “besides, it’s my treat tonight.”
˚ ༘♡ when you arrived at the small, bustling eatery, your daughter clung to your hand while her gaze darted around, taking in the brightly colored menus and the sizzling platters on nearby tables. sang-woo was already seated, waving you over with a welcoming smile that made you feel momentarily lighter. he pulled out a chair for you before settling back into his own seat, engaging your daughter with playful questions about her favorite foods and games. her laughter filled the air as he entertained her, his natural charm putting her completely at ease.
˚ ༘♡ as the meal went on, you found yourself relaxing, enjoying the rare treat of good food and pleasant company. when your daughter noticed the arcade machines near the back of the restaurant, her face lit up with excitement. before you could say a word, sang-woo reached into his pocket and handed her a coin, encouraging her to go play while the two of you stayed behind. it was then, as you sat alone with him, that the evening took a turn you hadn’t anticipated.
˚ ༘♡ leaning in slightly, his expression grew more thoughtful. “can i ask you something personal?” he began, his voice measured and quiet. you nodded, unsure where he was going with this. “are you seeing anyone right now?”
˚ ༘♡ the question caught you off guard. you hesitated, but there was no point in pretending. with a quiet sigh, you opened up about your past, your brief, ill-fated marriage, your ex-husband’s abandonment, and the struggles that had followed. sang-woo listened intently, his gaze steady, never betraying judgment or discomfort. when you finished, he offered a small, empathetic smile and reached across the table, his hand brushing yours lightly. “you’ve been through so much, but you’re doing a wonderful job as a mother,” he said, his words sincere. before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, quick and discreet, ensuring your daughter didn’t see.
˚ ༘♡ the gesture left you momentarily speechless, your heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years. cho sang-woo was everything society valued, handsome, intelligent, and successful. yet, you couldn’t ignore the gap between your worlds. a single mother scraping by on meager wages didn’t belong in the same orbit as a man like him, no matter how kind he was. you told yourself he was simply a good friend, someone who offered comfort in a lonely existence. but the truth was harder to dismiss, and the growing fondness you felt for him remained long after that night.
˚ ༘♡ weeks later, the strain of your financial troubles bore down on you more heavily than ever. the debt had spiraled out of control, and every day felt like a losing battle to stay afloat. you were walking home one evening when a sharply dressed man approached you, his presence almost unsettling in its precision. he introduced himself with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and held out two small folded squares of paper. “care for a game of ddakji?” he asked, his tone cheerful but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place. “if you win, you’ll get one hundred thousand won. if you lose, i get to slap you.”
˚ ༘♡ desperation clouded your judgment, and against your better instincts, you agreed. the first few rounds ended in failure, each slap stinging more than the last. but you persisted, driven by the thought of what that money could mean for your daughter. finally, with trembling hands and a burst of determination, you flipped the paper correctly. the man handed you the cash with an unsettling smile and then extended a business card. “call this number if you want to win more,” he said, his words lingering in your mind as you walked away clutching the money.
˚ ༘♡ that night, after tucking your daughter into bed, you stared at the card for what felt like hours. the temptation was overwhelming, and in the end, it won. you called the number, your voice shaking as you gave your name and address. within minutes, a sleek black limousine pulled up in front of your building, its windows tinted so dark you couldn’t see inside. stepping in, you barely had time to settle before a strange chemical filled the air, and the world went dark.
˚ ༘♡ when you awoke, the surroundings were unfamiliar and unnerving. rows of bunk beds stretched endlessly across a vast room, the walls painted a distasteful shade of green. you looked down and saw the plain jumpsuit you now wore, the number 017 stitched onto the fabric. confusion and fear gripped you, but one thought rose above the chaos, your daughter was at home, and you had to survive this for her, to give the life she deserved.
˚ ༘♡ the goal of winning was your aspiration when the first game began. at first glance, it seemed absurd, red light, green light, a relic from childhood memories long buried beneath the weight of adulthood. the vibrant, oversized doll at the far end of the field seemed almost laughable in its stillness, its painted smile eerie but harmless. but that illusion shattered when the first player was eliminated. the sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, followed by the horrifying sight of their lifeless body collapsing onto the dirt. the cheerful voice announcing the rules continued without pause, as though nothing had happened.
˚ ༘♡ panic erupted among the players. shouts of disbelief and terror filled the air as dozens bolted toward the exits, frantic and desperate to escape. one by one, they were struck down, their bodies littering the field as if caught in an invisible storm. the realization hit you like a physical blow, this was no game. this was life and death, and you were standing in its grasp. your knees trembled under the weight of fear, and your breaths came shallow and quick. every instinct screamed at you to run, to flee the nightmare unfolding around you.
˚ ༘♡ “the doll’s eyes are motion sensors. don’t move.”
˚ ༘♡ the voice came from behind, quiet but firm, cutting through the chaos. you turned your head slightly, careful to avoid triggering the sensors. it was cho sang-woo, his expression as composed as ever, though his voice carried an edge you had never heard before. his presence shocked you, why was he here? he had a prestigious job, a beautiful home, a life far removed from the misery that had led you to this place. what could have driven him to join this horrifying spectacle? but there was no time for answers. survival demanded your complete attention.
˚ ༘♡ you fixed your gaze on the doll, its head swiveling unnervingly to scan the players. the melody began again, and with it, the rules of survival. move forward, stop immediately, stay frozen. you forced yourself to take small, deliberate steps, resisting the overwhelming urge to sprint. each time the doll’s head turned, you froze, your body taut with fear, your heart pounding so loudly it seemed deafening. every second stretched into eternity, every step forward a test of willpower.
˚ ༘♡ sang-woo crossed the finish line seconds before you, his figure stoic as he turned his back to the field. you pushed onward, your focus unyielding, until you finally crossed the line with seconds to spare. the tension in your body snapped, leaving your legs weak beneath you, but you remained upright, clinging to the knowledge that you had survived, for now. you glanced toward sang-woo, hoping for some acknowledgment, but he avoided your gaze entirely, turning away as if you were a stranger.
˚ ༘♡ once the last player stumbled through, the harsh blare of a horn signaled the end of the game, and the survivors were ushered back into the dormitory. the atmosphere was suffocating, the air thick with tension and fear as the reality of what they had just endured began to sink in. the sight of so many bodies lying lifeless on the field haunted you, but there was no time to grieve, no space to process. the masked guards stood silent and menacing, a constant reminder that you were trapped under their watchful gaze.
˚ ༘♡ as the players murmured among themselves, questions and disbelief rippling through the crowd, one of the masked guards stepped forward. his voice was distorted through the microphone, chilling in its detachment. “to remind you why you are here, we will reveal the amount of debt each of you owes.”
˚ ༘♡ the room fell silent, a collective tension building as a screen lit up on one of the walls. one by one, the players’ faces appeared, alongside staggering amounts of debt. gasps and whispers spread as the numbers grew larger and larger, each amount more crippling than the last. when your face appeared, the sum displayed made your stomach churn, a figure so vast it felt insurmountable, nearly half a billion won, a reflection of every foolish decision you had made to keep your daughter fed and housed.
˚ ༘♡ but the room truly stilled when cho sang-woo’s face appeared on the screen. his debt was six billion won. the air seemed to grow heavier as the number glowed on the screen, an incomprehensible weight tied to the man who had always seemed so polished, so composed, so untouchable. a few players exchanged shocked glances, but sang-woo’s expression didn’t waver. his face remained unreadable, a mask of calm that betrayed none of the turmoil he might have felt.
˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop staring at him. six billion won? how could someone with his education, his prestigious career, have ended up in such a dire position? questions swirled in your mind, but the icy tone of the guard’s voice broke through your thoughts. “this is what brought you here. this is what you must fight to overcome.”
˚ ༘♡ as the screen darkened, the room buzzed with subdued murmurs. the revelation had shifted the atmosphere, exposing the cracks in the carefully guarded facades of those around you. it was a stark reminder that no one here was truly secure, no matter how confident or composed they appeared.
˚ ༘♡ murmurs of confusion and disbelief filled the air. then, to your astonishment, sang-woo stepped forward and initiated a vote to end the game. the announcement caused a ripple of hope, and soon the vote began. by the narrowest margin, the majority chose to leave. the thought of returning to your daughter filled you with relief, even as unease lingered in your mind.
˚ ༘♡ back in the outside world, you clung to the brief sense of normalcy that returning home provided. your daughter’s laughter was a salve to your frayed nerves, but the relief was fleeting. the reality of your situation hit like a tidal wave when you opened the door to find loan sharks waiting, their demands sharper and more insistent than before. a stack of bills sat ominously on your table, a chilling reminder that leaving the game hadn’t erased your debts. it had only delayed the inevitable.
˚ ༘♡ when the sleek black limousine returned, you didn’t hesitate. you kissed your daughter’s forehead, returned her to the care of your elderly neighbor, and climbed into the car, your resolve hardening. the gas filled the air once again, and the world faded into unconsciousness. when you awoke, you were back in the same vast dormitory, the green jumpsuit hanging from your frame like a prison uniform.
˚ ༘♡ to your surprise, and perhaps dismay, sang-woo had returned as well. he stood apart from the crowd, his expression carefully neutral, as though he had already resigned himself to whatever horrors lay ahead. you couldn’t help but feel a pang of curiosity and frustration. what could have brought him back to this nightmare? but his presence, as unsettling as it was, also brought a sliver of comfort. at least one person here wasn’t a complete stranger. whether he acknowledged you or not, the fact that he was there, breathing the same air, enduring the same fate, made the unbearable feel slightly less isolating.
˚ ༘♡ as you climbed through the maze of brightly colored block structures on your way to the second game, the oppressive silence among the players was broken only by the occasional scrape of shoes against the smooth surfaces. the atmosphere was suffocating, each person wrapped in their own thoughts of survival. as you reached the next passageway, you caught sight of sang-woo walking a few steps ahead, his broad shoulders unmistakable even in the dull green jumpsuit. you quickened your pace, weaving around other players until you came up beside him.
˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo?” you called out hesitantly, unsure if he even wanted to be acknowledged. “it’s good to see you.”
˚ ༘♡ he turned to face you, his expression weary, his sharp features softened by exhaustion. his glasses were gone, leaving his face bare in a way that felt unfamiliar. the hollowness in his eyes made your heart ache, a stark contrast to the composed man you once knew. “it’s good to see you as well,” he said quietly, though his tone carried an undercurrent of shame. his gaze drifted downward, as though he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes for long.
˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, unsure whether to press him further, but the words poured out before you could stop them. “sang-woo, i had no idea you were in so much debt. i thought…” you faltered, the unfinished sentence hanging heavily in the air. you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud, the claims you’d heard about client embezzlement and loans swirling in your mind. surely, he wouldn’t have stolen money from his workplace? the man you thought you knew wouldn’t sink to such levels, or so you hoped.
˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression tightening. “we can talk later, alright?” his voice was calm, but the subtle edge warned you not to push further. he looked away, focusing on the corridor ahead, his discomfort palpable.
˚ ༘♡ before you could respond, the masked guards appeared, their presence commanding immediate attention. one of them stepped forward, his voice cold and distorted as he barked instructions. “players, form a line in front of the four doors, triangle, circle, star, and umbrella.” the straightforward simplicity of the directive only heightened your unease. no explanation was given, and the purpose of the shapes remained a mystery.
˚ ༘♡ you watched as sang-woo leaned toward the group of players he had been speaking with, his voice low but audible. “we should split up,” he suggested. “i’ll take the triangle.” his tone was measured, but there was something deliberate in the way he spoke, as though he knew more than he was letting on.
˚ ༘♡ you stepped closer, offering him a faint smile. “i’ll take the star,” you said, trying to inject a bit of optimism into the tension-filled space.
˚ ༘♡ his jaw tightened visibly, and he shook his head, the motion slow and deliberate. “no,” he said, his voice firm. his friends had already dispersed, blending into the lines forming at the other doors, but he didn’t move. his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching.
˚ ༘♡ “why not?” you asked, confused by his sudden insistence.
˚ ༘♡ he hesitated, the pause stretching long enough to feel significant. “i think you should stick with me,” he said finally. “for a woman, the next game could be dangerous, and you might need protection. choose triangle with me.”
˚ ༘♡ there was something in his tone, persuasive as it could be, that made it impossible to refuse. though his reasoning unsettled you, you nodded, falling into line behind him as the players shuffled forward. your eyes scanned the room anxiously, searching for any clue as to what lay ahead.
˚ ༘♡ when the game was finally revealed, your stomach sank. the guards handed each player a thin tin containing a piece of dalgona candy. the shape on the door you had chosen corresponded to the delicate imprint in the sugar, triangle for you and sang-woo. the instructions were chillingly simple, extract the shape from the brittle candy without breaking it. failure meant elimination.
˚ ༘♡ as you stared down at the candy in your hands, your breath hitched. the triangle, though angular and sharp, was mercifully the easiest of the shapes. your fingers trembled as you picked up the needle provided, its point glinting under the harsh overhead lights. you glanced at sang-woo, who was already at work on his candy, his face an unreadable mask. you offered him a small, grateful smile, relieved that his advice had spared you a more complicated shape. he acknowledged it with a weak nod but didn’t look up from his task.
˚ ༘♡ the room was filled with the sound of quiet scraping, interspersed with the occasional crack of breaking candy and the deafening gunshots that followed. each failure sent a ripple of fear through the players, the stakes of the game becoming all too real. your hands shook uncontrollably as you traced the edges of the triangle, the needle’s tip scraping against the delicate surface. beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.
˚ ༘♡ finally, with painstaking caution, you lifted the triangle free from the candy, the edges intact. relief flooded through you, though your hands continued to tremble as you approached one of the masked guards. holding up the completed shape, you waited for his acknowledgment. “player 218, player 017, pass,” the voice from the speaker announced, devoid of emotion.
˚ ༘♡ as you and sang-woo stepped into the expansive player quarters, the dim lighting and echo of murmured conversations created an atmosphere that felt dreadful yet oddly subdued. the space was filled with rows of bunks stacked high, each one occupied by players whose expressions ranged from numb exhaustion to quiet fear. you glanced around briefly before turning your attention to him, your gratitude bubbling to the surface.
˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo, you saved my life,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. the words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. “i wouldn’t have had the precision or patience to cut out the star. thank you for convincing me to choose triangle.”
˚ ༘♡ he paused mid-step, his shoulders tensing ever so slightly as he turned to look at you. his expression was calm, but there was something unreadable in his gaze, a flicker of thought he didn’t voice. you tilted your head, your curiosity piqued as a question formed in your mind. “did you know it was going to be dalgona?” your voice held both curiosity and suspicion. he was intelligent, brilliant, in fact. it wouldn’t have surprised you if he had pieced together clues that no one else had noticed. but then again, if he had known, wouldn’t he have told his friends?
˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he looked almost reluctant to answer. “i didn’t,” he said finally, his tone measured and deliberate. “it was a lucky guess, i suppose.” but there was something about the way he said it that left you unconvinced. his words felt too crafted, too careful, as if he were guarding a truth he wasn’t ready to share.
˚ ༘♡ before you could probe further, he shifted the conversation, his gaze tender as he looked at you. “come on,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you look like you’re about to collapse, and i can hardly stay upright myself after how draining that game was. let’s try and relax our nerves.”
˚ ༘♡ you nodded, the tension in your body loosening slightly as his words pulled you away from your thoughts. together, you made your way to an unoccupied bunk in one of the quieter corners of the dormitory. as you sat down, the fatigue of the day hit you like a wave, the adrenaline that had kept you going during the game now fully drained from your system.
˚ ༘♡ sang-woo leaned against the metal frame of the bunk, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. his face was pale under the fluorescent lights, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed how much the game had taken out of him. for a moment, the silence between you felt almost comfortable, a reprieve from the chaos that had defined the day.
˚ ༘♡ “you know,” you said after a while, your voice barely above a whisper, “i don’t know how you stayed so calm out there. i felt like i was going to fall apart the entire time.”
˚ ༘♡ he let out a low breath, not quite a sigh, as his eyes shifted to the floor. “i wasn’t calm,” he admitted. “i was terrified, but fear doesn’t help you survive. you have to focus, no matter what.” his words were matter-of-fact, but there was an edge to them, a glimpse of the pressure he carried that he rarely allowed others to see.
˚ ༘♡ you studied him for a moment, your gratitude mingling with a growing sense of unease. there was so much about him that remained a mystery, layers of calculation and restraint that made it impossible to fully understand what he was thinking. but for now, you were too tired to dwell on it.
˚ ༘♡ “thank you, sang-woo,” you said again, your voice softer this time. you meant it, not simply for his advice during the game, but for the quiet sense of stability he brought in a world that felt increasingly unmoored.
˚ ༘♡ he gave a faint nod, his lips curving into the barest hint of a smile. “get some rest,” he said, his tone gentle but steadfast. “tomorrow will probably be worse.”
a/n: can you all tell my favorite character is cho sang-woo? don’t worry, part two of the hwang in-house x wife series will be out soon! let me know your thoughts! 🤍
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game fanfiction#squid game fic#squid game imagine#squid game x y/n#squid game x reader#squid game x you#cho sangwoo x reader#cho sang woo fanfic#cho sang woo x female reader#cho sang woo fanfiction#cho sang woo imagine#cho sang woo x reader#cho sangwoo#cho sang woo#cho sang woo x you#cho sang woo fic#sang woo#sangwoo#player 218 fanfiction#player 218 fanfic#player 218 x reader#player 218 x you#seong gi hun#player 456#seong gi hun fanfiction#gi hun#gihun#player 456 x reader
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Ruined Surprise & Birthday Trip
Logan tries to buy a gift for your birthday only for it the surprise to be ruined.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
divider credit: @enchanthings
It was rare for Logan to suggest going into town—usually, he grumbled about crowds and small talk, preferring the solitude of the mansion. So when he’d casually suggested a trip downtown, you’d blinked in surprise, half wondering if you’d misheard him.
“You… want to willingly go into town?” you asked, brows raised.
Logan scowled, crossing his arms. “Yeah, sweetheart. Don’t look so surprised,” he muttered, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
You’d agreed, thrilled at the prospect of visiting the bookstore to check out the new bestsellers. Little did you know, Logan had an ulterior motive. Your birthday was coming up, and Ororo had mentioned a shop downtown that sold dresses. She’d let it slip that the last time you and she had gone shopping, you’d fallen in love with a particular dress—a flowy, deep blue number that you’d admired for a solid ten minutes before putting it back, insisting you didn’t need it since you rarely had a reason to dress up.
Logan remembered the way you’d lit up talking about that dress to Ororo over dinner, and the idea of surprising you with something you truly wanted, well… it stuck with him.
He could already picture your face when you opened the box, how your eyes would go wide and that soft smile he loved so much would spread across your lips. And then, just when you thought the surprise was over, he’d tell you he’d planned a weeklong getaway for the two of you—someplace where you could wear that dress as often as you wanted.
Now, he was standing outside the boutique, hands stuffed in his pockets, feeling more out of place than ever. The storefront was bright and airy, with mannequins dressed in floral prints and pastel colors—decidedly not his territory.
He sucked in a breath and stepped inside, ignoring the immediate urge to turn around and bolt.
The shop was even worse on the inside. Every surface seemed to glitter or shine, racks full of delicate, flowy fabrics that looked like they’d tear just from a hard stare. The walls were painted a cheery pastel pink, and some floral fragrance in the air made him want to sneeze. Logan shifted uncomfortably, glancing around like he was preparing for a sneak attack.
He tried to look casual as he scanned the racks, hunting for the blue dress Ororo had described, but his every move seemed to attract attention. A young, fashionably dressed employee sidled up to him, her expression a mixture of amusement and… something else he didn’t quite like.
“Can I help you, sir?” she asked, her voice lilting with polite curiosity but her eyes betraying a hint of judgment as she took in his rugged clothes, the faded jacket, and usual scowl.
Logan grunted, trying to sound polite, though it didn’t come out quite right. “Just lookin’,” he muttered, shifting his weight and wishing the place had darker lighting or a less floral smell.
The employee’s smile turned tight, and her gaze lingered a bit too long on his worn leather jacket and calloused hands. “Well,” she said, her tone verging on condescending, “we have a few… men’s items by the front if you’re interested. Cologne, wallets, that sort of thing.”
Logan clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. “Not lookin’ for a wallet,” he replied tersely, eyes narrowing as he scanned the racks once more. “Lookin’ for a dress.”
The employee’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and her smile became a little forced. “Oh… a dress? For, um… someone special?”
“Yeah,” Logan answered, his tone clipped. He spotted a flash of blue fabric on a nearby rack and immediately headed toward it, leaving the employee standing there, blinking after him.
After a bit of searching, he found it—the dress Ororo had mentioned. Soft, elegant, and exactly the shade that would make your eyes stand out. He could practically see you in it, twirling around with that shy smile, maybe laughing at the idea of him picking it out.
He made his way to the register, the dress draped carefully over his arm, ignoring the way the employee’s gaze followed him with barely hidden skepticism. As he reached the counter, he noticed her pulling out a fancy tissue-paper-lined bag, the kind that screamed, look at this overpriced gift.
Logan cleared his throat. “Don’t bother with the bag,” he said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could manage. “I’ll just… uh, I’ll carry it out.”
The employee raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was the strangest man alive. “You don’t want it wrapped?” she asked, incredulous. “We offer free gift wrapping, and it would probably… well, keep the dress safe.”
Logan shifted, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Nah. Just hand it over,” he insisted, pulling his jacket open slightly. “I’ll, uh, just tuck it in here.” He gestured at the inside of his coat, planning to hide it under the leather so you wouldn’t see it if you wandered out of the bookstore early.
The employee’s look of disbelief turned to outright condescension. “Sir, this is a dress. You… don’t just stuff it in a jacket,” she said, her tone making it clear she thought he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
Logan’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Look, just hand it over,” he said, trying not to snap. “I don’t need a bag. I don’t need tissue paper. Just the damn dress.”
She pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed, but after a moment, she complied, handing it over with a sigh as if she couldn’t believe she was letting him walk out of the store like that. Logan stuffed the dress carefully inside his jacket, folding it as neatly as he could without creasing it too much, and then turned to leave, the employee’s skeptical gaze boring into his back.
As he stepped out onto the street, he exhaled a long breath, relieved to be away from the pastel walls and judgmental stares. He glanced down, making sure the dress was safely tucked away, hidden from view.
Moments later, Logan spotted you coming out of the bookstore, a stack of books piled up in your arms and a contented smile lighting up your face. He felt a little flutter of nerves—something he wasn’t used to—and forced himself to keep a straight face. When you caught sight of him, you grinned, hurrying over.
"Find anything interesting?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you noticed the odd bulge under his jacket.
Logan shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Nah," he said, his tone as casual as he could muster, though he couldn’t quite keep a small, secretive smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Just… picked up a little something. Nothin' important."
Your eyes narrowed playfully. "Is that so?" you replied, clearly suspicious.
Before you could probe further, Logan threw an arm around your shoulder, steering you down the street in the opposite direction. You walked in comfortable silence until you spotted a familiar storefront and came to a sudden halt, eyes lighting up.
"Oh! That boutique!" you exclaimed, pointing to the shop with a glint in your eye. "They had the most amazing dress last time I was here. Let’s go inside—"
"Uh, no!" Logan said quickly, cutting you off with a little too much force, causing you to raise your brows.
"Why not?" you asked, half amused, half curious.
He cleared his throat, searching for an excuse. "I just… it’s not my kinda place, alright? You go on ahead," he added with a smirk, trying to play off his awkwardness.
"Fine," you replied, giving him a skeptical look as you handed over the books. "But you’re holding my books, tough guy. Don’t drop them," you teased, shoving the books into his hands. He let out a reluctant chuckle as he took them, watching you head toward the shop.
As Logan made his way back to his truck to stash the books, you slipped into the boutique, already scanning the racks for the dress you’d admired with Ororo. The shop was just as charming as you remembered, with racks of delicate fabrics and an air of quiet elegance.
You made a beeline for the rack where you’d last seen the dress, quickly scanning for any sign of it before a frown formed on your face. The dress was nowhere to be found.
Puzzled, you approached the counter, where a young employee was restocking a display of scarves. "Excuse me," you began politely, "I was wondering if you still had this blue dress? It was on display a few weeks ago—soft fabric, kind of a deep sapphire color?"
The employee looked up, her expression shifting to one of mild irritation as she sized you up. "Oh, that dress?" she replied, a hint of condescension creeping into her tone. "I’m afraid it’s gone."
You blinked, surprised. "Gone? Already? It’s been here for weeks!"
She gave a dismissive shrug, her lips curling into a slight smirk. "Yeah, some… rugged, gruff guy came in and bought it earlier," she said, her tone implying she found the whole thing bizarre. "Didn’t exactly seem like the type to shop here. Honestly, it was a little strange."
You felt your heart skip a beat, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as realization dawned on you. Logan had bought it. You should have known—his awkward insistence on carrying your books, his weird reluctance to enter the shop… it all made sense now. A warmth spread through your chest, but you tried to keep a straight face.
"Well," you said, your voice tinged with humor as you looked back at the employee, "if you thought he was out of place, you should meet my husband."
Before she could respond, the door chimed, and in strolled Logan, glancing around with a slightly bored expression—until his eyes landed on you. He froze, catching the look on your face, and immediately knew you’d figured it out.
The employee’s face went pale as she connected the dots, watching Logan walk over with a wary expression. "Oh… he’s your… husband?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Logan’s eyes flicked to the employee, then back to you, his face breaking into a smirk as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Everythin’ alright, darlin’?" he asked, his voice rough but warm, laced with a protective edge.
The employee swallowed, clearly flustered now. "I, uh, was just… explaining that the dress… it’s been… sold," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between you and Logan.
Logan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable but his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah? I know. Picked it up earlier," he said, glancing at you with a hint of a grin. "Thought it’d make a good birthday present for my wife here."
You felt a surge of affection as he spoke, and you shot the employee a polite but pointed smile. "See? Guess that gruff, rugged guy had pretty good taste after all," you said lightly, squeezing Logan’s arm.
The employee managed a tight smile, clearly embarrassed. "Well… uh, good choice," she mumbled, avoiding your gaze.
Logan gave a small nod, his smirk widening as he looked down at you. "Ready to go, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice softening just enough for you to catch the warmth behind his usual gruffness.
You nodded, barely able to contain your smile as you leaned into him. "More than ready."
As the two of you left the shop, you glanced up at Logan, feeling a rush of warmth. "So," you murmured, once you were a safe distance away, "this was why you wanted to come into town so suddenly?"
Logan shrugged, looking a little sheepish but trying to play it cool. "Might’ve been," he muttered, glancing away. "Figured you deserved somethin’ nice."
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, slipping your arm around his waist as the two of you strolled down the street together. "You know," you teased, giving him a sidelong glance, "for a 'gruff, rugged guy,' you’re pretty damn thoughtful."
Logan huffed, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he pulled you closer, pressing a warm, lingering kiss to your temple. "Yeah, well," he murmured, his voice gruff but soft, "I guess since the surprise is ruined—"
"Nope! Not ruined," you cut him off, shaking your head with a mischievous grin. "In fact, I’m gonna totally forget that you bought me the dress. I’ll just act completely surprised on my birthday." You paused, looking up at him with an exaggerated, innocent expression. "See? What dress? I don’t remember a dress. Are we talking about a dress?"
Logan chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You’re ridiculous," he muttered, but his arm tightened around your shoulders, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Maybe," you replied, grinning up at him. "But you love it."
He let out a soft sigh, as though he was trying to sound exasperated, but his gaze was soft as he looked down at you. "Guess I do," he admitted, brushing a thumb along your jaw before leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.
When he pulled back, his expression turned mock-serious, though his eyes were still twinkling. "Just remember," he said, tapping your nose gently, "when you open that dress, I expect full-on shock, maybe even a tear or two."
You laughed, nodding solemnly. "Oh, I’ll deliver. You’ll be convinced I had no idea. I’ll even throw in a dramatic gasp for extra points."
Logan smirked, shaking his head. "I don’t know what I got myself into with you," he murmured, but there was nothing but love in his eyes as he said it.
────୨ৎ────
Logan had to give you credit—you’d really leaned into the performance when you opened his gift, letting out a dramatic gasp and grinning as you picked up the dress you’d already knew he’d bought. Your fingers traced over the soft fabric, your face lighting up as if it were the first time you’d seen it.
"Oh my God, Logan!" you exclaimed, holding it up and admiring it. "It’s perfect. Thank you."
He chuckled, clearly amused by your theatrics, but there was warmth in his gaze. "Of course, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. "I’d say it was worth dealin’ with that boutique just to see that smile."
You wrapped your arms around him, snuggling into his chest. "You're the best, you know that?"
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, though you could hear the affection behind his gruff tone. He pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Now, how about you try it on for me?"
You rolled your eyes, laughing as you swatted his chest. "Later, tough guy. I still have some dignity."
"Do you now?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. Before you could reply, he tilted his head and gave you a look. "Didn’t notice the card, did ya?"
You looked up at him, puzzled. "A card?"
"Check the box," he said, crossing his arms with that knowing grin of his.
Curious, you reached back into the gift box, your fingers brushing over the tissue paper until you felt a small envelope tucked beneath the layers. You pulled it out, glancing up at him with a questioning look as you opened it. Inside was a handwritten note:
"Pack your bags, sweetheart. We’re headin’ out for a week. Just you, me, and a place that I think you’ll love."
You blinked, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Wait… a week? You’re taking me somewhere? Where are we going?"
Logan’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. "It’s a surprise," he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "But let’s just say… it’s a place for bookworms. Figured you’d appreciate it."
The next morning, Logan packed up the truck and you hit the road, driving for hours until you arrived at a quiet, picturesque town nestled by a shimmering lake. The town was like something out of a novel—narrow, cobblestone streets lined with charming bookstores, cozy cafes, and tiny shops selling everything from handmade journals to vintage novels. You felt like you’d stepped into another world.
"Welcome to your personal literary paradise," Logan said, his voice low and warm as he helped you out of the truck.
Your eyes lit up as you took in the view. "Logan, this place is… it’s perfect."
He shrugged, though you could see the pride in his eyes. "Figured you might like it."
After settling into a quaint little inn overlooking the lake, Logan handed you a brochure he’d picked up in town. "Turns out they got all sorts of book-related tours here," he said, sounding only slightly amused. "One’s a walking tour of spots that supposedly inspired some big-shot authors. Figured we could do that if you’re interested."
"I love it," you said, grinning as you flipped through the brochure, the excitement bubbling up in your chest. "I can’t believe you planned all this."
He chuckled, sliding an arm around your shoulders. "Can’t have you thinkin’ I don’t listen when you go on about books, sweetheart."
The next few days were a dream. You spent hours wandering through rows of rare books, getting lost in cozy bookstores, and sipping coffee in quaint little cafes while Logan watched you with that soft, steady gaze of his. In the evenings, you’d return to the inn, where he’d build a fire and sit with you on the balcony, the lake shimmering under the moonlight.
On your last night, Logan took you to a quiet spot by the lake. The stars were out in full force, reflecting off the water, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you looked up at the sky. "This feels like something out of a novel," you murmured, leaning into his side.
Logan chuckled, pulling you closer. "Yeah, well, you’re the one who keeps sayin’ life’s better with a little drama and romance," he teased. "Figured I’d give you the full experience."
You looked up at him with a grin. "If we’re talking romance novels, then you’re definitely the brooding, mysterious hero. The one with the tragic past and the soft heart under all the gruffness."
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, is that so?"
"Absolutely." You nodded, feigning a serious expression. "You know, when I first met you I thought, Yep, that’s the hero from Chapter One. Rough around the edges, but with a heart of gold."
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You thought that, huh?"
"Yep," you said, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Over time, you proved it to me even though it took some time for you to warm up to me.”
He let out a soft chuckle, but there was a tenderness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “Good thing I did,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along your cheek. "Or I’d missed out on the best thing ever happening to me.”
Your smile softened, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss under the starlit sky. "Thank you, Logan," you whispered against his lips. "For everything."
"Anything for you, darlin’," he replied, his voice barely more than a murmur. "Happy birthday."
#logan howlett#wolverine#x men logan#x men wolverine#logan howlett x you#james logan howlett#logan x reader#fluff#marvel#hugh jackman#logan howlett fluff#professor logan#professor reader#professor howlett#logan wolverine#james howlett#the wolverine
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Valentine’s Day with Glinda.
Pairing: Glinda Upland x reader.
Trigger warnings: none.
Requests.
Weeks in Advance: Glinda has been buzzing about Valentine’s Day for weeks, brainstorming the perfect romantic gestures. She’s the type to adore grand displays of affection.
The Night Before: She insists on helping you pick out the perfect outfit for the day, rummaging through your closet while excitedly sharing her plans.
Surprise Wake-Up: You wake up to a sparkling, pink breakfast tray in bed, complete with heart-shaped pancakes, fresh flowers, and a handwritten note sprinkled with glitter.
Love Overload: Her enthusiasm might be a bit overwhelming—there’s a steady stream of compliments, affection, and her ever-sunny energy filling the room.
Shopping Spree: Glinda insists on a fun outing to "treat ourselves," dragging you to her favorite boutiques. She delights in trying on different outfits, giggling, and making sure you feel like royalty too.
Surprise Decorations: By the time you return home, she’s somehow managed to have your space filled with balloons, ribbons, and glowing lights, creating a magical, romantic atmosphere.
A Fancy Dinner: Glinda organizes a glamorous, candlelit dinner, complete with a private violinist (because of course). Whether it’s at a high-end restaurant or something she orchestrated at home, she’s dressed to the nines and expects you to join her.
A Sweet Toast: Over dinner, she gives a heartfelt toast about how much you mean to her, a rare moment of sincerity that shows the depth of her love beneath all the glitter.
Thoughtful Yet Extravagant: Glinda gives you something both meaningful and shiny, like a personalized bracelet engraved with something sweet, packaged in an ornate box with an elaborate bow.
Your Gift to Her: She’s touched by any gift you give her, but she adores anything sentimental—a framed photo, a love letter, or something you made just for her.
Quiet Cuddles: After the glamorous festivities, she’s happy to curl up with you, still gushing about how perfect the day was. She might jokingly remind you that you’ll have to top it next year.
Sappy Movie Marathon: She loves cheesy romantic comedies, and you end the night watching her favorites while she snuggles into you, happily sighing every time a big romantic moment happens onscreen.
#wicked imagines#wicked headcannon#wicked galinda#wicked glinda#wicked#wicked movie#galina upland wicked#galinda upland headcannons#galinda upland imagines#galinda upland x reader#galinda upland#glinda upland#glinda the good witch#glinda x reader#bunnysnuff writes✨
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Whispers Of Belonging ~ KSM [MATURE WARNING]
CONTINUATION OF THIS PIECE
WORD COUNT: 4.6K
GENRE: mafia AU, cinderella(ish), feelings of not belonging, people speaking down to the reader, Seungmin being the soft boy he is meant to be and making her feel welcome,SMUT MINORS DNI, protected sex, above a crowd, seungmin making the reader feel wanted and special,
PAIRING: Seungmin X Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
As the two of you stepped out of the boutique, Seungmin watched you closely, your hands clutching the bags of clothes he had just purchased for you, not a single thing even breaking his card limit and nothing felt enough for you.
Seungmin felt guilt weighing down on him after one of his men tried to kick you out of the changing room in your underwear and he was determined to make up to you even if it was the last thing he did.
"I'm sorry about Bailey again, he can be overzealous at times," Seungmin added as he shot his guard a glance who was looking anywhere but at the two of you.
"No harm, no foul." You laughed nervously not wanting to make it into a bigger deal than it was. Seungmin had already bought you so much that he didn't need to continue to be sorry.
"Will you still save me a dance?" He arched his brow at you, extending his hand as he carefully lifted it to his lips and kissed your skin softly.
"It would be an honour to dance with you," He added, your heart fluttering as you stared at him. You'd heard stories of the man but you'd never come face to face with him until now.
"I will try, I'm working at the event as well as attending so it might be a little hard," You admit shyly. You weren't ashamed to admit you'd be working the event, everyone needed to work after all, but you weren't sure you'd even have time to grab a glass of water never mind dance with someone.
"I'm sure we can arrange something with your boss," Seungmin countered as you nodded a little, smiling at him before heading in the direction of your car.
Seungmin watched you the whole time, biting back a smirk as he felt a flutter in his chest. Bailey watched his boss, it was a rare display of kindness that he was showing to you and he didn't know if he liked his boss this way or not.
"Back inside, I need a suit and I want the staff to find everything that will fit Miss YLN's style and that is in her size sent to her place." He ordered, turning back to the cold boss that everyone knew him as.
Packages had been arriving all week long, at the work office and it was a little overwhelming. Everything from clothes to accessories were inside of the boxes and it was starting to make you a little uneasy. What if Seungmin was expecting something more than just a dance in return for the items?
"Do you remember the plan?" Your best friend - Chloe - asked you as she walked with you toward the back entrance of the event hall where tonight's ball was being held in. The further you walked inside the more out of place you began to feel in the dress he'd purchased for you. It was a masterpiece creation, crafted from the finest of silk, a midnight blue colour that shimmered every time you moved making it look like it was lit by a thousand stars. It hugged your frame perfectly, accentuating every curve with elegance and grace, dipping with a modest neckline teasing just a little of your breasts.
"Just one dance, give him some excuse about needing to be somewhere else and then I'll go back to the kitchens, change into my outfit and finish working," You assured her, smiling a little as she smirked at you. The whole week leading up to the ball Chloe had been encouraging you to go through with it, that it would be a once-in-a-lifetime thing but you felt so out of place and the silver tiara that Seungmin had sent for you to wear wasn't helping that situation.
"You look hot," Chloe promises, holding you tightly before smirking at you, straightening out your hair one last time and admiring the makeup she'd done for you tonight before letting you go.
Out of the fishbowl and into the ocean, you stared around at all the people who were inside the ball unease washed over you like a chilling breeze and you realised how out of depth you truly were.
Every eye in the room felt like a spotlight, casting judgment on you as you made your way through the other elegantly dressed guests trying to find Seungmin.
Whispers started to follow your every move, their hushed tones feeling like a dagger digging into your back leaving you feeling more exposed and vulnerable to the world.
"Come on," You whispered to yourself, your eyes darting from one corner of the room to the next, desperately searching for any sign of Seungmin.
"I'm sure she served me at an event once," A voice giggled making your heart sink and your hands begin to tremble, you should never have agreed to this. You were out of depth in this place, everyone here had no doubt seen you and it would get back to Seungmin that you were a waitress. An imposter at his ball and he'd probably hate you for it.
As you continued to wander aimlessly through the ballroom, the comments about you working other events grew louder and your sense of isolation deepened with each passing second until you decided to make your way back to the exit. You were almost there when you felt a hand gently touch your shoulder,
"There you are sweetheart, I'm sorry I'm late, I've been looking everywhere for you." You stared up at Seungmin, his eyes warm as he stared down at you with a smile on his face.
"It's okay," You breathed out, his being near you was like a sense of belonging washed over you and he smiled taking your hand in his and gently placing a kiss on the top of your hand.
"Does he know he's dating the help?" Someone laughed loudly from your left, but Seungmin either chose to ignore them or simply hadn't heard them as he began to walk you through the hall again.
"How about we dance in a little while, I thought I might introduce you to some friends of mine," Seungmin suggested as he linked your arm with his, unease filling you once again as he led you toward a group of men. You were only supposed to be here for a dance, if you were too long Chloe wouldn't be able to cover too much and you'd no doubt get fired.
"Changbin, enough details about your latest heists, I'd like you all to meet someone," Seungmin called out as seven men turned to look at you, your whole body burnt at the sudden attention you were getting from all of them.
"Lovely to meet you, Seungmin's never brought along a date before." The one known as Changbin said making Seungmin's cheeks flush and your whole body tingle.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all," You said, your voice betraying you by giving off a hint of nervousness.
"No need to be nervous, sweetheart. They don't bite," Suengmin whispered in your ear, his hand gently rubbing circles on your lower back, the small action sending shockwaves through your body and yet relaxing you at the same time. For some reason you believed him, you felt safe with him and that no one would hurt you while he was around.
As time grew on you found yourself drawn into Seungmin's world, forgetting all about work and getting swept up in the whirlwind of laughter and conversations shared between all of the men. The more you stood there the more you realised that all of them were more than just members of a criminal organisation, but they were a family, bound by loyalty and mutual respect for one another. Standing there, you found yourself feeling a sense of purpose that you'd been searching for your entire life, a sense of belonging that was filling the void inside of you.
"Welcome to the family," One of the men, Chan, whispered as they finally began to leave you and Seungmin alone once again.
"Now, can I get my dance?" Seungmin winks at you, your hand placed in his as he leads you toward the dance floor.
Seungmin led you onto the dance floor, his movements graceful yet commanding. As the two of you swayed to the music, you couldn't help but marvel at the effortless charm and sophistication he exuded. The sense of belonging washed over you as you danced in his arms, the two of you enveloped in your private cocoon of warmth.
Your steps were synchronized, a seamless dance of two souls drawn together by fate. Seungmin's eyes never left yours. In that moment, you glimpsed the man behind the legend, the layers of his persona peeled back to reveal a vulnerability you hadn't expected.
As the music swelled to a crescendo, Seungmin drew you closer, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"You're a natural," he murmured, his voice low and husky, as you felt your cheeks flushing with warmth and your heart pounding in your chest.
"Thank you," You whispered, your voice barely audible above the music. As the two of you continued to dance unease began to creep its way through the cracks of your facade. Whispers of guests around you grew louder, their words like poison arrows that pierced the fragile cacoon of happiness you had been in.
You tried your best to ignore them, to lose yourself in the safety of Seungmin's embrace but their voices continued to echo in your ears, mocking and taunting you with cruel words.
"Who does she think she is, waltzing in here as if she belongs?" Someone grumbled as Seungmin spun you around, bringing you back into his chest but you could no longer enjoy this. Their words grew louder to you as if they were all holding microphones and speaking to the whole room.
"I heard she's just using him to get what she wants in life." A female voice mumbled, your eyes shooting over to her to see her glaring in your direction.
"I bet she's fucking him for money, she could never afford that dress alone." Another voice ripped through you,
"Did you see the way she was with Changbin and Chan? She's probably trying to cosy up to the whole crew." Each word was a dagger to your heart until you were unable to bear the scrutiny any longer. You tore yourself away from Seungmin, your breaths becoming ragged gasps,
"Yn? What's wrong?" Seungmin's voice was filled with concern as he stared at you but it was as if you no longer saw him as tears pricked in the corners of your eyes. You stumbled toward the nearest exit, dropping the small clutch bag you had been carrying but no longer carrying as you sprinted out of the suffocating confines of the ballroom.
Seungmin called out to you, his voice once again filled with concern as he bent down to collect your bag, frowning as you disappeared through the crowds leaving him with nothing but a memory of your night together.
"I can help you forget her," Someone breathed out beside Seungmin but he merely snapped his fingers as Bailey appeared beside him, escorting the woman away leaving Seungmin thinking of ways to find you again since he would never be able to ignore the spark that had ignited inside of you both.
The bell above the entrance of the small cafe you'd started working in tinkled and you got ready to greet the next customer. Ever since your mishap at the ball, you'd quit the job you had in hopes it would stop Seungmin from searching for you. You'd never felt so embarrassed in your life and you hoped that the small dance with you was enough for him to leave you alone. Even if it did pain you to never see him again.
"Everyone out!" The voice you'd heard less than a week ago bellowed out, your head shot up to see Bailey standing there with his gun at the ready. People rushed out of the cafe and you stared at Bailey who had a slight smirk playing on his cheeks.
"Boss doesn't like it when people hide from him," He stated with a soft tone, putting his gun away as you stared at him. The bell above the door once again rang,
"I'm going to get fired for this, you know that right?" You cocked a brow at Seungmin, your heart going into overdrive as you saw him once again. You hated your heart for betraying you, he was in a different world to you, and the two of you would never work.
"You dropped this," He said as he held out the small clutch bag, your phone had been in that and you'd been terrified you'd never see it again.
"Thanks, I-I thought I'd lost this," You stammered, your voice tinged with gratitude as Seungmin offered you a faint smile, his gaze softening.
"Bailey, out. Make sure we're not disturbed." He ordered in a cold tone, a completely different Seungmin to the one you knew.
As soon as the two of you were alone he held out a chair for you before taking a seat across from you.
"I made it my mission to find you...I couldn't bear the thought of...you losing something so precious," He saved himself from wanting to tell you he came for his own selfish reasons because he couldn't bear the thought of losing you.
"Thanks," You whispered, your eyes staring down at the table not daring to look at Seungmin but he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours as he clasped your hand in his.
"I hadn't heard what was being said at the event," He admitted as he gently ran his fingers over your skin,
"Rest assured if I had, they wouldn't live to speak again," He grumbled a little, his eyes flicking with darkness making you bite your lip a little.
"It's nothing. They were right, I don't belong in that world...Your world. I'm not meant for it." You mumbled, trying to take your hands away from Seungmin but he gently squeezed yours softly.
"You belong at any dance I take you to, you belong anywhere I take you. YOU belong in my world." HJe told you, his voice commanding and yet reassuring,
"Anyone who dares to look down on you isn't worth the time of day. They're mere flakes of dirt on your shoe that aren't deserving to be in your presence." He assured you, your eyes brimming with tears as you felt your heart overflowing with gratitude from him.
"I-I don't know what to say," You admitted, your voice trembling a little. Seungmin squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Say you'll give me another chance," He implored, he'd been wanting to get you to come out with him again and this time he was going to show you how much you truly belonged by his side.
"Say you'll let me show you how special you are. How you belong in my world." You stared at him, biting on your bottom lip as you thought about it. Seungmin made you feel as though you could do anything and when you were together you felt as though you could rule the world so you nodded.
"I'd like that," Seungmin smiled leaning across and brushing a small kiss against your cheek. Seungmin smiled as he gently raised from the chair, determined to show everyone that they were wrong about you and that they should worship the ground you walk on.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow night at 7." He said, watching you as you nervously raised from your chair and nodded,
"Sure. I'll wear one of the many dresses you got for me," You teased softly as a blush began to creep its way onto Seungmin's cheeks and a smirk played on your lips.
"I'll see you then," He whispered before placing yet another kiss on your cheek and leaving you alone, with a lot to explain to your new boss as to why his business was empty.
The night arrived and you were standing by the window of your apartment waiting for him, your heart fluttering with excitement about the night you were going to have. Seungmin had been non-stop texting you ever since the day before, fueling your crush on him even more. There was a knock on the door sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins as you rushed to the door, smoothing down the fabric of your gown.
When the door opened Seungmin's mouth dropped open at the sight of you, he was dressed in a tailored suit and holding a bouquet of red roses for you.
"You look stunning," He murmured, you felt your cheeks flush with warmth and your heart thumped harder against your chest.
"Thank you, you look very handsome," You replied, Seungmin held out the bouquet for you.
"For the most beautiful girl at the ball," He said with a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips, you giggled taking them into your apartment and placing them into a vase of water.
"Shall we?" He smirked, taking your arm in his and making his way down the staircase with you close to him the whole time.
"I got a limo for us, I wanted us to arrive in style," Seungmin smirked at you as you stepped toward the waiting car, your mouth dropping open in shock.
"No back entrances for the belle of the ball," He whispers in your ear before opening the car door and helping you inside, your heart racing at the thought of what adventures awaited you tonight.
As it turned out the night had been filled with you and Seungmin dancing so much your feet were staring to kill you from being on the floor, people had stared a lot but not one had dared to say a word about you tonight. You didn't know if it was because Seungmin had threatened them beforehand or if they were a different crowd from the one from before. But you'd been left with a group of girls all gossiping about their dates, which you'd met at the last ball.
"We will date dangerous men." You heard one of the women mention as you laughed a little,
"My ears are burning," Changbin chuckled, snaking his arm around his date and smiling over at you.
"Nice to see you again, Yn," He tipped his head at you before taking his date out onto the dance floor, all of the men slowly coming back and taking their dates one by one until it was just you and Jisung's girl and Jisung who seemed to be talking amongst themselves.
A little worry began to wash over you as you felt alone again, the feeling of not belonging beginning to creep onto you until you felt a hand on your lower back.
"Sorry, I try not to discuss business when I'm in good company but sometimes they have to steal me away," Relief washed over you as Seungmin smiled down at you and you felt your heart stutter a little.
"Shall we go somewhere more private? I want to show you something." Seungmin smiles, taking hold of your elbow and nodding at Bailey to follow you both before he leads you to a staircase at the back of the room that was blocked by velvet ropes and a "closed sign." Seungmin lifts the ropes and walks up the stairs, leading you with Bailey trailing behind.
"Make sure nobody comes up," Seungmin ordered as Bailey stood at the base of the stairs and folded his arms across his chest.
"What are we doing?" You giggle a little as Seungmin winks at you, taking your hand and pulling you along the narrow hallway until you reach a balcony that overlooks the ballroom. Excitement washed over your body as you looked down a the people attending the ball.
"I wanted to show you the best view, to look over the people that had spoken down to you before." He smiled, standing behind you as you were pinned to the waist-high wall unable to move.
"Are we allowed to be up here?" You breathed out, your stomach clenching from just how close Seungmin was pressed against you.
"We're the biggest donors, we can do whatever the fuck we want." His breath caught on your ear making your whole body shiver and your thighs rub together. All night long you'd been needy for Seungmin and it was becoming slightly more unbearable as the night went on.
"I love being able to watch everyone." You admitted, looking down at everyone as Seungmin stared at you.
"How do you feel about them watching you?" His voice dropped an octave, shivers running down your spine as he ran his hands down your hips.
"W-Watching me?" You stuttered out as he pulled the layers of your gown up revealing your legs.
"Say the word and I'll stop...But I need you," He whispered as he dragged his teeth along the back of your neck, pulling your dress up higher exposing the tops of your thighs. You inhale sharply, your heart thumping harder than before, there must have been at least three hundred people down there.
"Do you want them to watch us?" You arched a brow.
"I want them to look up here and have no idea I'm fucking you...But I want you to come in front of all these people, sweetheart. To prove that you own them and that they should be the ones scared of you instead of you them," He whispered in your ear, his hands gliding over your hips and down between your thighs and you automatically spread your legs wider for him. Allowing him to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles.
"I'm going to slide my cock inside of you, fucking you until you come for me," He whispered, your hands flying behind him and undoing his belt as heat floods your entire body. You looked out at the sea of people below you, wondering if they had any idea what you were doing. If they were completely oblivious to what was happening up above them while they danced and drank their champagne,
"You're so wet for me," He groans as he continues to rub your clit, your body shaking and he'd barely started.
"I've wanted you all night," You admit, your hands gripping the small wall in front of you as you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your cunt.
"Hold onto the wall tightly," HGe orders as you brace yourself against the cool brick, your fingers gripping the edge tightly as he pushes his thick cok into you. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you tried not to cry out at the stretch,
"Fucking Christ, you're so wet for me." He groans loudly in your ear, his hips stilling as he fills you completely, rubbing your clit gently.
"You're made for me," He whispers in your ear as you press your lips together,
"You're made to rule over everyone," He told you as he slowly began to pull out of you, only to push back in making you squeeze around him, whimpering a little.
"Fuck," He moans out as you glance down to see if anyone had noticed but no one was paying you any attention and you allowed yourself to moan.
"Oh god," You whimper, your nails digging into the brick in front of you as you let your eyes roll back. Seungmin smirks as he begins to fuck into you ruthlessly, no longer caring if someone were to look right now and see. In fact, he wanted them to. He wanted them to see that you were his and any disrespect that they sent your way had a direct impact on him also.
"Fuck, Seungmin." You cry out as you felt him getting rougher with his movement, the tip of his cock hitting that one sensitive part that made it impossible to keep quiet.
Your legs were starting to shake as he pounded into you, the people below completely forgotten as you gave in to the pleasure.
"Cum for me baby, you're doing so fucking good." The praise sent shivers down your spine as you cry out his name, your head spinning while you squeeze around his cock. You felt nothing but the deep euphoria taking over you as you cum around him, your moans coming out strangled as your legs shake beneath you, buckling a little but Seungmin holds your waist up, bucking into you as he fills the condom he was wearing.
"Fuck," He whimpers, his hips bucking as you continued to clench around him, whimpering his name until the two of you slowly pulled apart from one another.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A year Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Are you sure I look okay? I don't want to ruin their day," You told Seungmin as you once again checked your outfit over, brushing your hands over the small bump that you'd skillfully hidden under the bridesmaid dress you'd been asked to wear by Jisung's wife to be.
"You look beautiful, sweetheart." He assured you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.
"This is your fault," You scolded him, the two of you were more than happy to be starting a family, even if it was only a year since the two of you began a relationship, it felt like the right time and happy accidents happened all of the time.
"I told you I thought it would be fine in the pool." He chuckled as you smacked him with your clutch, making your way to the other girls and all their dates.
"Letting a girl beat you up?" Changbin arches a brow at Seungmin who quickly glares at him.
"Proposed to yours yet?" He teased knowing Changbin was scared to pop the question to his girlfriend yet and was lashing out at everyone else because of it.
"What dress does she have?" Jisung pried, staring at you all but Hyunjin pulled him back away from his fiance.
"Leave my muse alone, you'll see your girl in less than 20 minutes relax." He chuckled making you all giggle and shake your heads at them, your eyes flicking over to Seungmin as you pictured what your wedding day was eventually going to look like. All you could picture was your little boy or girl walking down the aisle with you toward their dad as you started another chapter of your lives together and you couldn't think of anything more perfect.
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